Iron Hearts: Book 3
Chapter 6
Changes
****
Ferrous Dominus - sector 6
"I don't understand this arrangement at all," Gaela confessed, "why come HERE? Were you fleeing some disturbance or dissatisfaction in your region?"
Cinnamon Skies giggled, her soft, understated mirth muffled and distorted by the rebreather mask over her muzzle.
"Oh, no. Cloudsdale was fine. We just wanted to settle down somewhere a little more... adventurous than Manehatten or Ponyville. Not to mention that running a sweets shop in either place would have been a struggle. There's so much competition!"
The Dark Acolyte was currently seated at a metal table bolted to a plaza just outside of the aforementioned sweets shop, appropriately named Sugar Sky. Although the Acolyte certainly stood out as the only power-armored patron currently in the plaza, she was far from the only patron in general, and numerous menials and soldiers were either chatting at their seats or waiting patiently in the long line in front of the counter.
A more polite individual might have considered that given the shop's overwhelming customer load, she really shouldn't be wasting the waitress's time by interviewing her. Gaela paid such trivialities no mind.
"You came here for economic reasons, then. How do you supply this place, though? Where do you live?"
The purple pony leaned to the side as she answered. "Oh, we have Sugar Cane deliver supplies from New Hoofington. It's a long trip, and you wouldn't BELIEVE how she whines about being stopped and having her wagon searched by giant armored super-soldiers, but we make it worth her while."
Then she tossed her mane to the side. "As for the living arrangements, they could use a LITTLE improvement. There's so much space around here, but the room they assigned us is so small! It's like a cell!"
She idly pointed a wing at a distant tower capped with anti-aircraft missile turrets on the roof.
"That's slave cell block tertius," Gaela noted bluntly, "although our current load of prisoners is too small for us to need it, it was constructed to house prisoners being subjected to forced labor, and its facilities are indeed 'cells'."
Cinnamon frowned, and then twisted her neck about to stare hard at the structure. "Huh. Okay, yeah. That would make sense, now that I think about it. I was wondering why our room only locks from the outside." Then she smiled slyly. "I don't suppose one of the wise and mighty Dark Techpriests could help a sister out and land us a better pad?"
"I am of Acolyte rank, not a Techpriest," Gaela corrected her immediately, "and we certainly don't share any first-generation blood relation. Even if we are assuming that your kind are descended from ancient Terran stock, as my theory posits, our closest common evolutionary relative existed millions of years ago."
The pegasus stared up at the grim face mask briefly before she erupted into chortles, tapping a hoof against Gaela's leg. "Oh, you guys are a hoot! It's a shame we don't get more of you Dark fill-in-the-blanks here!"
"Ingesting sustenance that has little nutrient value is detrimental, and no one in the Dark Mechanicus would expend time and resources to procure and ingest sweets," Gaela noted, "though your business volume is clearly not suffering for our absence."
"Oh, not at all. In fact, it's been kind of a problem," Cinnamon admitted, "we've submitted a few articles to the Times advertising a need for more help. I suppose we could pile up enough money for one of those servitors, but I think it'd be great if we could get more ponies to come settle here!"
Gaela was silent for several seconds. "You do?" she finally asked, utterly perplexed.
"Yeah! I mean, you guys are great, really, but having more ponies around would really liven up this place!"
Gaela was again silent for several seconds as she mulled this over.
People did not "settle" on a military base.
That really seemed to be the root of her confusion. Settlers were a function and consequence of communities and living spaces, places that grew organically from the natural reproduction and migration of individuals. Whether guided by the hand of a strong central authority or not, such places would eventually form to provide a stable environment and produce able bodies for all the non-organic institutions of the 41st millennium, be they armies, fleets, worshipers, or manufactorums.
But settlers did not settle in military bases. Every individual here was here for a reason and had a particular purpose, from the Warsmith himself to the laborers slowly choking to death in the mines. Settlers didn't fit. Dessert shops didn't fit. Ponies in general didn't fit all that well either, although she admitted that might be a prejudice on her part.
She wondered if there was some sort of spreadsheet she could lay out, some sort of complex logistics equation, that would show the pegasus couple the error of their decision and send them packing back to their former residence. Not that she particularly wanted to get rid of them, but when faced with an irregularity her first instinct was always to hammer it back into its logical order. Years of Chaos worship hadn't quite defeated that impulse just yet, although it had at least taught her some prudence when deciding which matters to actually contest.
She duly decided that this particular irregularity did not require her efforts. Bizarre as it was, it didn't matter to her one bit if ponies settled in the fortress, nor would she expect such activities to negatively impact their objectives.
"I see. You may return to your duties," Gaela said as she stood up, her servo limbs bobbing slightly at the motion.
"You're not going to order anything?" Cinnamon asked, beckoning after her.
"I dislike sweet consumables," Gaela responded evenly as she walked away, "and I am not compensated in hard currency."
"Well, all right. But seriously, if you can get us a better living space, I'd really appreciate it!" the pegasus mare called out to her.
Gaela didn't respond as she left the area, heading in the direction of the training yards.
****
Ferrous Dominus - sector 8
The staccato thunder of heavy bolters rang through the air, heralding the stitches of explosive ammunition that raked over barricades and tore apart flimsy tin target boards.
Big Macintosh was not the only one at the heavy weapon ranges, although what with the way the other practitioners kept watching him rather than paying attention to their practice drills one could be mistaken for having that impression.
Another pair of target boards flipped up. Mac's eyes blinked over to them, and his visor immediately bracketed them and labeled their ranges. He felt the shifting against his ribs - or at least, against the place where his ribs used to be - as the heavy bolter adjusted its aim, and the targeting reticule in front of his eyes swept over to the boards.
A slight clenching of his abdominal muscles sent another stream of explosive death sawing across the shooting range, carving both targets apart in one sweep.
The ammo counter on his visor suddenly flashed red, demanding a reload. Not because he had actually expended much ammunition, but it was part of the drill, apparently.
The belt of heavy bolts stretching from ammo box to gun was cut loose, and the "depleted" box tumbled onto the ground at his side.
Big Mac grunted as he turned to regard the other partially depleted ammunition boxes laying around him, his servo arm creaking forward.
It had surprised him greatly that the actual targeting and firing of a human weapon had proven to be quite simple, responsive, and intuitive. He had Solon to thank for that, obviously, rather than any natural talent or equine advantage. Aiming and firing his weapon was a matter of artificial muscle control and lining up the crosshairs generated by his visor. Not rocket science.
Reloading wasn't exactly rocket science either, but it seemed a lot closer, Macintosh reflected as the mechanical claw on his back slowly lowered itself toward the ground.
The problem was the blasted servo arm. Suddenly having a fifth limb was incredibly awkward, but it was a clear necessity: his helmet prevented him from using his mouth to manipulate anything, and his leg armor made handling things with his hooves nearly impossible as well.
It took three jolting, misdirected stabs of his servo arm before he actually managed to touch one of the ammunition boxes, and then the grasping claw scraped over the top as it searched for something to seize. Big Macintosh leaned way over as he did this, looking absolutely silly in the process but intent on learning to do it.
Eventually the arm found the handle to the box and grasped it tightly. The box was hauled up as Macintosh stood up properly again, and then he twitched the arm and its cargo carefully into place where the armor would secure the box.
It only took two tries this time.
Then came the process of drawing the belt out and fixing it into the heavy bolter, which required even more precision that he didn't have with the pincer over his back. It took several minutes before the first of the heavy rounds clicked into place, and then the blinking bullet symbol at the top of his helmet display finally vanished.
"That was abysmal," crackled a voice in his ear as a vox signal patched in, "highly amusing, but abysmal. By the time you reloaded even once, any firefight you were supposed to assist would be long over."
"Eeyup," Big Macintosh agreed. Tolken hadn't chimed in too often during his training, but when he did it was to criticize Mac's clumsy reloading. The farmpony took the rather unhelpful critique in stride; this was his first day being encased in metal and having guns plugged into his body, so he could forgive himself for his inexperience.
"You are quite fortunate that time isn't a restraint at this level of drilling," the vox crackled, "from level five onward, it will be."
Macintosh waited silently for Tolken to continue.
"This concludes level three heavy bolter drills," Tolken finally added, sounding marginally annoyed at the lack of response, "you've had enough for one day, and Dark Acolyte Gaela is here to see you off. Your safeties have been engaged."
The targeting reticule vanished from his visor display. "Eeyup," Macintosh replied as he turned away from the range. Then, after a brief, thoughtful pause, he added, "Thanks."
An indifferent grunt came from his helmet speaker before the vox line cut out.
Big Mac found Gaela waiting at the entrance to the training yards, and moved to join her without a word.
She turned around as he approached and led him away into the streets, offering no greeting or other verbal acknowledgment of his presence.
The silence stretched into its fifth minute before Gaela said something.
"I've reviewed your training logs, Macintosh. Armsmaster Tolken noted that you suffered unusually long reload times, even for someone who had never touched a heavy bolter before."
"Eeyup," Mac confirmed.
"Is there some mechanical or ergonomic deficiency with your armor?" Gaela pressed. The idea seemed almost silly to her after she'd asked; the Warsmith did not make defective or flawed equipment.
"Nope," Big Mac said, the pincer to his servo arm clanging shut noisily as it twisted about, "just need practice, Ah reckon."
Gaela nodded slowly. She had taken quite easily to her own servo limbs when they had been installed, but then she was a human born on a forge world and trained from infancy to wield such devices with precision and efficiency. Big Macintosh was a pony farmer. An adjustment period was probably to be expected.
Once again, the pair walked in silence. Neither found the lack of conversation awkward or uncomfortable, but Gaela eventually decided to speak her thoughts.
"I desire your opinion on something, Macintosh," the Dark Acolyte said suddenly, "before I met with you at the training grounds, I spoke to one of the ponies running that... shop... in sector 6."
"Eeyup?"
Gaela frowned under her mask, wondering how exactly to articulate her thoughts. "They seemed... content. Unbothered by the fortress, the soldiers, or the cultists that pervade this place. Very much unlike your sister and her friends."
Mac's head dipped in acknowledgment as he followed along behind the Acolyte. Even among the Elements of Harmony that didn't seem particularly bothered by the Chaos fortress, none of them would have liked to live there. Well, maybe Twilight, but only out of curiosity and thirst for the humans' vast stores of knowledge.
"What do you think of Ferrous Dominus?" Gaela finally asked, getting to the part that required an actual response.
Big Macintosh pondered the query in silence for nearly a full minute, as if the matter was of singular importance. Then the seals on his helmet split, and it shifted open so that he could speak without having to mumble through the vox grille.
"Ah haven't seen too much of the place outside of that party the other week," Big Mac admitted first, "but what Ah have seen is pretty hard to wrap mah head around. First thing Ah saw after Ah took a salvo in the flank was Lord Solon's workshop, and that place is strange even by your standards, Ah reckon."
"Indeed, it is," Gaela said with just a hint of pride, "the Warsmith's pet projects and idle curiosities put even the greatest Magi's efforts to shame in their complexities and power." She coughed briefly, as if cutting herself off. "Continue."
"Right. Aside from y'all bein' people from space, Ah thought this place shouldn't be TOO strange. We got cities made of clouds and cities made of crystal, so a city made of metal seems downright normal, almost."
"You have cities constructed of condensed water vapor?" Gaela asked.
"Eeyup."
"That's entirely absurd."
"Eeyup."
The Dark Acolyte could find nothing else to add to their mutual conclusion. "Continue."
"Well, when Ah was here the first time it didn't seem too bad. But Ah was with hundreds of other ponies and we were just lookin' to have a good time. Now though..."
He took another long pause to think, his voice giving way to the soft whirring of servos in his joints and the thumping of metal boots against ferrocrete.
"Somethin' about this place ain't right. Ah can feel it all over, now that Ah'm the only pony around. It's like the ground itself is sick underneath mah hooves, and Ah look at every shadow like Ah'm expectin' somethin' nasty to jump out at me."
Gaela nodded slowly. This was the first time she had ever heard Big Mac speak at length, and she had to admit being slightly impressed at the depth of his response.
"That assessment is entirely reasonable. So then, why then would any of your kind wish to live here of their own volition? I can perfectly understand trading with us and visiting our manufactory, but judging by my observations of your cultural priorities and the general opinion of your sovereign, any sane equine should be repulsed by this place as you are." Gaela explained, looking up at the plumes of toxic smoke spiraling into the sky.
Another long pause.
"It ain't mah place to speak for other ponies," Big Mac noted, "but if ya want mah best guess, Ah think some ponies just happen to like this place more'n the rest of us, and more'n a place like Cloudsdale."
Gaela's brow furrowed under her helmet. "They prefer the grinding industry of war to their idyllic, privileged lifestyles, and the danger of living alongside the Chaos cults to the safety and stability offered by your creed of 'Harmony'?" she asked.
"... Eeyup."
"I'll accept that there are many great benefits to accepting the Dark Gods and serving the Iron Warriors, as they are both paths that I have willingly chosen and am quite satisfied with," Gaela began, "but I'm fairly certain the pegasi settlers have done neither. Explain further."
Mac set his head down briefly toward the ground, once again organizing his thoughts.
"Different ponies like different things," he eventually said with a shrug as he lifted his head again, "there're plenty of ponies who were too scared to set foot in this place even fer one of Pinkie's parties. But there were also some who wanted to come back. Ah reckon some ponies like the feelin' of danger, of explorin' the unknown even if they're doin' somethin' as simple as runnin' a dessert shop."
Mac twisted his head as he watched a pair of Leman Russ battle tanks grind by, each one dressed in chains draped with skulls and broken helmets.
"And besides, the feelin' Ah mentioned is just that: a feelin'. Somethin' tells me this place ain't right, but this is also the place that brought me from good as dead to right as rain." He paused to lift his augmetic foreleg up. "So what do Ah know? Bein' creepy, fightin' all the time, and worshippin' questionable gods ain't good, but Ah'm in no position to judge. Y'all take care o'business, yer fightin' an army that's done us ponies wrong, and you've helped out me and my kin time and time again. That counts fer more than feelin's. Might even count fer more than Celestia's opinion on the matter."
The draught horse glanced left and right after he'd said that, as if afraid that he was suddenly going to be ambushed for stating such a blasphemy. "It MIGHT, mind you. Like Ah said, what do Ah know?"
"Quite a bit more than you let on," Gaela admitted, "you're quite cerebral underneath that simple-minded persona you cultivate. Is that some sort of misdirection?"
"Nope."
"Explain," Gaela said immediately, know that he'd just leave it at that otherwise.
Mac looked away to the side, embarrassed at being called smart; it was a rare compliment to be leveled at a pony of the Apple family. "Ah just prefer listenin' to talkin'. Ya pick things up sometimes."
Gaela nodded slowly. "The fact remains, though: this is a facility of war, and your people are ill-suited to it. Ponies do not belong here."
Big Macintosh shrugged, the shoulder pads of his armor suit lifting appropriately. "Eeyup. But here we are."
Gaela considered that very brief and uncomplicated thought for quite some time as they continued walking down the avenues in silence.
Then her cranial implants accessed the local noosphere databanks and she brought up the residence directories.
"Delgan's lackeys enjoy roomier quarters than the other servants of the Company," Gaela said suddenly, breaking the silence between her and the stallion, "considering that he's lost a few since the altercation at your agri-facility, he has space to spare. I'll reassign the pegasi there and have a servo skull inform them."
Big Mac didn't really know what prompted this or why she was telling him, so he did what he did best and listened silently.
Gaela made the changes as data scrolled down before her optical bionic, and then she searched the dispatch records.
"I have good news," she said a moment later, turning her head to look at Big Macintosh directly, "Sparkle's mission was completed and she and her unit are en route back to base. In addition, the restrictions on vehicle deployment have been lifted. That should make it easy to get you all home and take the artifact back here."
Big Mac thought it was strange to consider the Elements of Harmony a "unit", but waited for more information.
"Someone named Wyatt Daniels sustained considerable damage during the mission, but it seems your older sister and Sparkle survived with only minor injuries, while the others were entirely unharmed."
"Eeyup," Big Mac said happily, his mouth curling into a smile. He hadn't been told anything about a "mission", but that wasn't so important as long as Applejack was entering Ferrous Dominus in better shape than he had.
"I also have some bad news," Gaela said, her tone turning irritable.
"Eeyup?" Mac asked, wondering what could be wrong if everypony was already safe and coming back.
"This is where I left your youngest sibling and the others," Gaela said, stopping suddenly.
Big Mac halted as well, and then looked around. They were currently in a wide lot between buildings, with nothing much around besides wandering menials and a big stack of metal crates. Had Gaela seriously just dropped them off in a random open space and expected them to stay there?
The Dark Acolyte picked up one piece of an empty metal crate that had been ripped in half, suggesting that no, she had not done that at all.
"I should have expected this, really," Gaela admitted, "you ponies have always turned out to be more resourceful than we give you credit for. I could have stationed a servitor to guard them, or at least a skull to follow and track them when they escaped."
Heaving a sigh at her error, she glanced over at Big Macintosh, who had his ears flat against his head and was giving her a most impressive, and entirely silent, glare.
She hated to admit it, but it bothered her a lot more than she had predicted it would.
"I apologize for losing track of the younglings," Gaela said reluctantly, bumping the butt of her power axe onto the ground and bowing her head, "I had taken that responsibility upon myself despite your own obvious reluctance to allow it, and I have failed you. I will proceed to seek out their whereabouts and recover them safely."
"Nope," Big Mac said, his eyes still narrowed dangerously.
He continued staring up at the Dark Acolyte, his eyes warring a silent battle of wills against the eerie glow of her mask optics.
After several seconds, Gaela finally turned her head away. "Fine," she grumbled, "I'm also sorry for sealing them inside a cargo crate to keep them from getting into trouble. NOW may I seek them out?"
"Eeyup," Macintosh nodded sharply, stepping away and finally letting the intensity in his eyes drop. He doubted the sincerity of Gaela's apology, mostly because he knew that she lacked anything resembling empathy for other creatures, but at the very least he could be sure she was plenty embarrassed about having taken on a job and bungled it so completely.
Then a light flashed on his gorget, and he blinked in surprise as a vox message reached him without all of the indicators and information offered by his helmet visor.
"Hello? Is this... what was his name, again? Right. Big Macintosh?"
"Eeyup," Big Mac said as Gaela stopped browsing the noosphere network and turned toward him again.
"Okay, good. Trixie was surprised to find you had your own vox unit," the voice on the other end admitted, causing both pony and human to raise an eyebrow at the distantly familiar speaking pattern, "look, this isn't really Trixie's problem, but the Iron Warriors keep calling on Trixie to deal with other ponies, even though there's supposed to be people for that now. Is your filly missing?"
There was some incoherent noise in the background. "Okay, fine, Trixie gets it! Sorry, your little sister is here in Trixie's room. And getting on the Great and Powerful Trixie's meager and surprisingly thin nerves, Trixie might add."
Big Mac couldn't help but smile at that, now that he knew the Cutie Mark Crusaders were all right. "Eeyup. Ah'll go get 'em. Thank you, Miss Trixie."
"Yes, yes, Trixie accepts your thanks. Just hurry up. They're practically having a dance party over here. So much fuss just because they got their cutie marks..."
The vox cut out as Mac blinked in surprise.
"So they succeeded, then? Well, maybe some good came out of this after all," Gaela mumbled as she turned around and started walking at a much better pace than before, "follow me, Macintosh. The entertainer is being housed in the psyker dorms."
"Eeyup," Mac mumbled as he hurried to follow. It was strange; Apple Bloom getting her cutie mark was the first bit of entirely good news to greet the Apple family since their whole involvement with aliens began. She had been working for years to find her special talent, and she had found it, of all places, in the heart of a human military base. That was fantastic!
So then why did he feel so uneasy?
****
Ferrous Dominus - sector 24 landing platforms
The Scavurel gunship hissed noisily as the access ramp lowered itself onto the embarkation platform, the engines winding down their power cycles. Immediately a trio of grav-platforms were brought down the ramp, each one bearing a body on it and being attended to by Dark Mechanicus medicae biologis. The first two were Iron Warriors, their armor cracked and blackened by energy bursts, and the Dark Acolytes chittered noisily as they walked along the armored warriors and discussed the best ways to go about the upcoming surgeries. The final one, which was being tugged along by an aspirant like a mere afterthought, carried Wyatt Daniels on it.
"Y'all are gonna make sure he's okay, right? Hello?" Applejack was the first to follow the makeshift stretchers out, and had a small, bloodied patch just behind her shoulder. She had been completely ignored by the Dark Acolytes after they had finished disinfecting and stitching up her knife wound, and little of their attention was being put to use on Daniels instead.
"Applejack, relax. His wounds aren't fatal, and I doubt they carried him all the way back here with the intention to just let him die on his bunk," Rarity noted. The other ponies exited behind her, all of them with very different levels of concern.
"Hey, do you think we have to give Morty back now that we're done? I think him and Gummy would get along great!" Pinkie asked brightly. She was wearing the servo skull as a hat again.
Applejack sighed and cast a final, sad glance at the mercenary's stretcher as it was carried away. Rarity was right, of course, but it never sat well with her how easily everyone seemed to take him for granted.
Then again, she was the one who had asked him to be sent along with them, so Applejack supposed she didn't have room to talk.
"Ah, good ol' Ferry Dee! Home away from home!" Rainbow Dash said with a chuckle as she took to the air above the platform, scanning the area and making note of all the most obvious technological curiosities. "So what do we do now? Mission accomplished, right?"
"Ooh! That's a GREAT theme for a party!" Pinkie said, jumping up. "I know! I'll make a cake like one of those space ships we captured!"
Rainbow Dash snickered as she rubbed her front hooves together. "Sure, a party is a good start, but I was hoping to get something else out of this, actually. I think a little REWARD might be coming our way, eh?"
"Rainbow, have you forgotten that we've already been 'paid' for this mission?" Twilight asked as she fixed her respirator mask in place. Rarity was magically tugging a sheet out of the gunship's medical supply cache to hold over herself like a tarp.
"Sure, sure, but we captured THREE space ships for them in that place! That's a big deal, right? Couldn't hurt to ask for a bit of a 'bonus', right?"
The pegasus suddenly felt a sharp tug on her tail, and she yelped and landed unsteadily as she was pulled back to the ground.
Twisting her head around to complain, she found Applejack almost nose-to-nose with her, and the words died in her throat.
"Now Dash, this is important, so Ah want ya to listen real careful," Applejack said in a deadly serious voice, "Twi's right. That's Big Macintosh you're weighin' against those fancy space tubs and the rest of the base. And his life is worth more than all the ships, guns, soldiers, and random piles o'scrap on and around this here planet PUT TOGETHER. So we ain't gonna be askin' Mister Solon fer no favors, because that measly gopher's nest we just handed him barely qualifies as a down payment on what Ah owe him fer fixing up mah big bro." Rainbow Dash was cringing away by now as Applejack's eyes narrowed. "We clear?"
"C-Crystal!" Rainbow said, gulping.
"Good," Applejack's demeanor changed instantly, and she smiled as she started fitting her respirator into place.
Twilight nodded somberly. "I agree. For all my reservations about what we've done here, I'd feel the same way if it were my brother in Big Mac's place."
"Well, Ah don't know about that," Applejack mumbled as she pulled the mask down over head, "Shinin' would be worth MAYBE two space ships."
"Hey!" Twilight shouted angrily.
"Oh, come on Applejack. He's the Captain of the royal guard!" Rarity reminded the farmer as she stepped out onto the platform with the sheet hovering over her. "Let's say two and a half."
"HEY!"
The impending argument was cut short as a familiar, rapid stomping noise approached from below the platform. By now every one of the ponies could recognize the sound of Solon when the Warsmith was on the move.
"Hey, Shmithy's here! Let's go!" Pinkie said excitedly as she bolted down the stairs. The others followed with slightly less enthusiasm, and Twilight fumed silently during the short trip to ground level.
"Hey Shmithy! We're back!" Pinkie had been the first to leave and she was the first to reach the Warsmith, skidding to a halt and then snapping a foreleg up in a salute. "Mission accomplished, Sir!" Morty mimicked the gesture with one of its cables, drawing the dangling pipe over its forehead.
"Sho I've sheen," Solon began as the other ponies joined their pink friend, "fine work, girlsh. You've brought great benefit to the Company and by extenshion, the Legion. May I ashume Shliver debriefed you?"
"Yes. He was tough, but fair," Twilight confirmed. "... Mostly tough."
"He doeshn't sheem to care for you equinesh, to be honesht, but the victory you've handed ush hash lightened hish mood conshiderably." Solon shrugged. "Well then, if there ish nothing elshe, you may meet with your kin and depart the fortresh at your leishure. Shpeak to Gaela and she will arrange for a gunship now that transhport reshtrictionsh have been lifted."
"Ooh! Ooh! Do we get medals for doing such a super-duper job?" Pinkie asked, waving a foreleg into the air.
"You want medalsh?" Solon briefly considered the matter, tilting his helmet to one side. "Sure, why not? I can do that."
The Warsmith stomped over to the side of the landing pads toward a stack of supply crates.
"So... that aside, how will the capture of the Tau facility change things strategically in your conflict?" Twilight asked, following behind the hulking Chaos Lord. "This was the second of only three bases they have here, right?"
"Ah, good queshtion!" Solon murmured as he found the crate he was looking for and lifted the top off of it. Inside were countless lengths of iron chain.
"In termsh of the immediate military shtand-off between the 38th Company and the Lamman Shept, it changesh very little. Only a tiny portion of their resherve shtrength wash held at the captured facility."
He took up a length of chain and his mechatendrils went to work. The Warsmith was facing away from the ponies, though, so none of them could tell exactly what he was doing as they heard the sound of drills and welders activating.
"In the long run, the effect may be devashtating. The main Tau bashe hash no hangarsh, and the facility jusht captured houshed all of the equipment one would need to facilitate orbital operationsh or planetary evacuation."
Twilight nodded thoughtfully, but the rest of the equines looked fairly lost by the explanation. As if he sensed this, Solon turned his head to the side as his welders continued their work.
"The Tau army is well and truly trapped here on thish planet. They have no shipsh to leave, and they have no shafe haven to await pickup by an outshide fleet. Anything more that the grayshkinsh hope to accomplish here, they either do by shtealth, or they go through my army."
Applejack grinned, adjusting her hat. "Well, that sounds mighty fine to me."
"Does it? I'm pretty sure trapping a hostile army here is the OPPOSITE of what we want," Rarity pointed out.
"Regardlesh, although the Tau may have to operate primarily through shtealth, it hash not eshcaped notice that they sheem to be quite good at it. I've been shtudying the recordsh of their Shept, and thish army ish quite renowned for their reliance on shtealth technologiesh and covert tacticsh. Shomewhat unusual for grayshkinsh."
"Okay... so do we know what they're here for, yet?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"Not a clue," Solon admitted as his chassis turned around, the legs pounding against the ferrocrete rapidly. "Line up, now."
"Hooray! Award party!" Pinkie cheered, leaping up onto her hind legs and flinging a burst of confetti into the air as the Iron Warrior approached them.
Hanging from his left hand were half a dozen light chains, each one with a heavy bolter round attached at one point, like an amulet.
"Did you put all those together just now from scraps that were lying around?" Rarity asked as her ears flattened against her head.
"Yesh, it wash quite shpur of the moment. Much like the mission you jusht returned from. It'sh shymbolic."
"He's gotcha there," Rainbow Dash said as she trotted up to the Chaos Lord, "lay it on me, big guy!"
Solon leaned down and pulled the first of the loops of chain over Rainbow Dash's head. "In recognition of your shervice to the Company and the Legion, I award you all the shilver bolt," he said in a rather dull tone of voice. Clearly the Warsmith wasn't taking this very seriously, although the ponies in turn didn't seem especially bothered by his attitude. Rainbow let out a happy noise and poked at the bullet with her hoof as Solon stepped to the side.
Next was Applejack, who accepted the award with a small, silent smirk.
Rarity was next, but as he budged the hovering sheet out of the way to place the chain around the unicorn's neck it was suddenly pulled off of his hand by her levitation.
"Oh, thank you Mister Solon! This will look just lovely in my office," she said with a false smile as the chain was tucked away into her saddlebag.
"Where nopony else can see it," she added under her breath as the Chaos Lord marched on to Pinkie.
"So if we do even better on the next mission, do we get a gold bolt?" Pinkie asked excitedly as the makeshift amulet was draped around her neck.
Solon paused. "I washn't planning on giving you any more missionsh, actually."
Pinkie looked surprised, and then distressed by the news. "But then we'll NEVER get our adamant bolts! C'mon Shmithy, give us another chance!" The servo skull on her head let out a series of squealing beeps, its sensors flashing wildly.
Solon tilted his head to one side. "... Why are you addreshing me as 'Shmithy'?"
"Please, never mind her, she's loopy," Twilight pointed out.
Solon hesitantly stepped past Pinkie, and his torso swiveled to face the only alicorn of the group.
Twilight pulled her head back uncertainly. "Also, I don't think I'll be needing one of those. But thanks."
"Oh? Why not?" Solon asked curiously, leaning back again.
"Because I'm not proud of what we accomplished today," Twilight said bluntly, "yes, the Tau are our enemy. Yes, we fought and even killed them for Big Mac's sake. I don't regret it, but I'm not happy about it."
She cast her gaze over to another gunship that was emptying a line of Tau prisoners onto the platform, all of them in shackles and guarded by Iron Warriors.
"We killed people today. And helped kill others. And even those Tau that survived are condemned to a life of suffering because of us. The Tau aren't mindless monsters or evil creatures; they're intelligent people who have ended up on the wrong side of this conflict for reasons we don't even understand."
"Well, I say some of them deserve it," Rainbow Dash interjected, spotting a familiar face among the line of captured aliens. Then she jumped into the air and cupped her hooves around her mouth. "HEY, FENNIN!! YOU SUCK!!"
"UP YOURS, YOU MUTANT LIVESTOCK!!" came the shouted reply, followed by a yelp of pain as a Marine shoved him forward.
Twilight cleared her throat meaningfully before she continued. "Right. Anyway. All of this was in aid of YOUR goals, which aren't the same as ours. I'm plenty happy that we made it out okay and that Big Macintosh is better, but everything else was a tragic necessity to make that happen."
As the alicorn finished her monologue, Solon took a long moment to absorb the lecture, his optics slowly rotating within his helmet.
"I want you to take thish," he said finally, plunking the chain loop unceremoniously over Twilight's horn.
"What? But I just-"
Twilight began to sputter another refusal, but Solon interrupted her.
"You, at leasht, recognize the shignificance of your deedsh today beyond the dry calculush of material tonnage or the dizzy elation of a hard-won victory. You may wish for shomething to remember it by," Solon insisted, his gaze lingering on the purple pony before he stepped past her with the final amulet.
"And lasht but not... wait, I thought there were shix of you?" Solon asked, noting that there wasn't another pony waiting behind Twilight.
"Oh, Flutters is hiding over behind that platform column," Rainbow Dash noted as she swooped in and took the last length of chain, "you still kind of freak her out. I'll give it to her."
"Very well. Until we meet again, poniesh." Solon's legs beat a heavy rhythm against the ferrocrete as he walked off to see to his other duties. The servo skull on Pinkie's head lifted off and zoomed off after the Iron Warrior a moment later, much to Pinkie's disappointment.
"That was a bit rude, Twilight, but really, I don't blame you one bit," Rarity opined as she grimaced at the length of chain around Applejack's neck, "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing this thing! SO tacky! And the gunmetal clashes horribly with my coat!"
"Well, Ah think they're right nice," Applejack said fondly as she raised a foreleg under the chain to stare at the bolt round, "and probably better'n those Chaos Stars that Daniels and the rest wear."
"True, I wouldn't want to wear one of those either. For completely different reasons."
Twilight's head leaned forward so that the chain was hanging loosely in front of her, and she stared down at the unspent ammunition attached to it.
"Why a bullet?" the alicorn asked with a frown.
"Because he cobbled these 'awards' together with whatever was lying around, obviously," Rarity said as she rolled her eyes, "I suppose we should be thankful he didn't try to pin loose chunks of ferrocrete to our chests and call them badges."
"Heh! That woulda been bad even fer these guys!" Applejack snickered. "C'mon girls, let's go find Mac."
"Are we going to leave after that?"
"Ah was hopin' to stay the night, actually. Ah really wanna check on Daniels 'fore we take off."
"Sounds good! Hey, Fluttershy, c'mon out! Try on your Silver Bolt!"
As the other mares started chatting and walking off toward the avenues, Twilight continued staring at the heavy bolter round that had been given to her, her face eventually shifting into a grimace.
"Completely expendable, are we?" she mumbled to herself.
Uttering a sigh, she kicked her head back to let the chain loop fall around her neck as it was supposed to, and then followed her friends deeper into the fortress.
****
Ferrous Dominus - sector 6, Trixie's room
"Don't worry everypony! I'll save us!" Twilight shouted, galloping to the fore as the enormous monster beckoned.
A glow encompassed her horn as the purple unicorn quivered, and then it swallowed her entire body, until finally a beam lanced from her horn into the great blue beast looming over her.
The ursa minor staggered, but then it spread its arms wide and released an enraged roar, undaunted by Twilight's magical power.
"But how can this be?" Twilight gasped, backing up before the horrifying creature. "I'm Celestia's student, the most powerful unicorn in all the land!"
"Oh no!" cried Rainbow Dash and Applejack, running in circles after each other in a panic. "Even Twilight can't stop an ursa minor! We're doomed! DOOMED!!"
"HOLD ON, EVERYPONY!!" boomed a new voice, causing the ponies to freeze in place and the ursa minor to look up in confusion.
Trixie stood atop a cliff, her wizard's cape billowing dramatically in the wind as she stared down at the occupants of Ponyville.
"Trixie! What are you doing here?" Twilight demanded.
"Why, the Great and Powerful Trixie could only have one reason to appear right now! To help out with a little animal control!" the blue unicorn said, rearing up and glaring at the enormous blue bear.
Twilight shook her head. "Trixie, if even I, the admittedly impressive and surprisingly competent Twilight Sparkle couldn't banish this creature, how could you manage? You'll never be as good as I am!"
Trixie shook her head. "Tut tut, Sparkle! This is no time to be worrying about our petty rivalry! Ponies are in danger!" She landed back on all fours. "We must put aside our differences and combine our power! Together, NOTHING is beyond the reach of our magical might!"
"Okay, no, that is NOT what happened," Scootaloo interrupted.
Trixie paused in her story, all the small pony puppets freezing in place within her magical levitation.
"Ya know we're FROM Ponyville, right? Everypony knows that Twilight Sparkle stopped the ursa minor and that you were useless," Apple Bloom pointed out.
Trixie's eyes narrowed. "As Trixie noted before starting, this tale is BASED on a true story. Some details may have been altered or embellished for artistic purposes."
"Or made up completely," Sweetie Belle deadpanned.
"Trixie is TRYING to put on a puppet show here, not a documentary!"
"If you're going to just change the story to make it better, then you should make Rainbow Dash the hero," Scootaloo insisted.
Suuna, Gaela, and Big Macintosh observed the rapidly escalating shouting match from off to the side, each occupied with their own thoughts.
Suuna was quite intrigued by Big Macintosh, wondering what circumstances had arisen that could have possibly led to the Iron Warriors giving bionic implants and even a power armor suit to a pony.
Big Mac himself was quite worried about his little sister and her friends, hoping that they weren't pestering Trixie too much.
Gaela had a dataslate in her hands and was currently taking notes. Her observations were of a distinctly scientific nature, and were based entirely upon the new marks that now decorated the fillies' hind legs: the mark of Khorne for Scootaloo, Tzeentch for Sweetie Belle, and Nurgle for Apple Bloom.
She knew that all the ponies that had been in contact with Chaos forces had so far failed to show any kind of corruption or dark influence despite such contact. She had not considered - and for very sound, logical reasons - that any ponies might choose to devote themselves willingly to Chaos worship.
Now that this had happened, she was quite intrigued. Taking on a patron's mark and devoting one fully to the cult had a wide range of possible effects, the most common being mutation, death, and/or insanity, but the results depended greatly on the individual and their ability to satisfy their chosen deity.
She certainly didn't have high hopes for the little orange one that had apparently taken up the cause of the Blood God. Gaela idly wondered if it were possible for the Dark Gods to take a mark away out of embarrassment and regret.
A beeping noise alerted the room's occupants to someone waiting outside, and Trixie quickly snapped her head toward the door, glad for a distraction.
"You stand before the room of the Great and Powerful Trixie! You may enter at once!" she shouted grandly, sweeping a foreleg to the side.
The doors slid open, and Applejack stepped into the room with an obvious spring in her step.
"Hey, y'all! We're back!" the other Elements of Harmony entered behind her.
"Sis! Sis! Look!" Apple Bloom said breathlessly as she and the other two fillies dashed away from Trixie's improvised puppet stage. "Ah finally got mah cutie mark!"
"We did, too! Look!"
The other ponies halted, shock taking hold before cautiously shifting to happy surprise as they saw the symbols that now adorned the young ponies' hips.
All except for Twilight, anyway; her jaw had gone slack and her face had turned ashen as soon as she got a good look at the new marks.
"Well Ah'll be! And ain't ya just like yer big sis, too! It looks a lot like mine! What kinda apples're those?" Applejack asked, sidling over to compare her own cutie mark. Apple Bloom's mark was comprised of three light green circles arranged in a triangle, not unlike the three red apples that made up each of her own marks.
"Erm... Ah don't think they're apples, actually," Apple Bloom confessed.
"Oh. Well, that's all right. What are they? Melons? Limes?" Her eyes narrowed. "They ain't PEARS, are they?"
"The circles don't represent any kind of fruit," Gaela noted, still writing absently in her dataslate.
As Applejack puzzled that over, Rarity was observing Sweetie Belle's cutie mark critically, a hoof tapping her chin.
"Well, I must say the azure shade complements your coat wonderfully," the designer said approvingly, "although the actual mark seems a bit... obscure. Is it a hook? A teardrop?"
"I think it's a flame," Sweetie Belle said, glancing back at her rear, "but look! I can do magic now!"
Rarity blinked in surprise. "You can? What spell could you learn in a place like this?"
"Here, watch!" Sweetie Belle said as her horn crackled with electric arcs.
Trixie's eyes widened. "Hey, wait! Stop!"
Sweetie's eyes flashed brightly, becoming windows of pure light as her horn was encompassed by an aura of coruscating energy. Rarity stepped backward uncertainly as her little sister reared up onto her hind legs, and then the young unicorn uttered a syllable that no pony tongue should have been able to pronounce.
The lumen strips above immediately blew out in a burst of sparks, casting the room into darkness as Fluttershy yelped in shock. Gaela staggered as her optical bionics started returning hideous images of screaming faces, and Big Mac felt his augmetics started to twitch about on their own volition.
Then the spell ended, and the glow from Sweetie's horn vanished.
"Trixie TOLD you not to do that again!" the blue unicorn growled as her horn lit up the room. "Now Trixie has to have the lumens fixed!"
"On it," Gaela said immediately, rounding on the nearest light source as her opticals reset themselves.
Rarity made a face as Sweetie Belle simply sat back proudly. "Uh... what, exactly, is that spell supposed to do?"
Sweetie Belle's pleased expression fell slightly. "Well... I'm not totally sure, actually."
"Based on Trixie's observations, it mostly annoys others and spreads havoc," Trixie said with narrowed eyes.
"It looks like you found your special talent!" Pinkie cheered. Rarity was glad to hear somepony else say it, as it relieved her of the temptation to make the connection herself.
Don't listen to them. They're all just jealous of your vast power and wisdom, said a soothing voice from the back of Sweetie's mind.
"Thanks, Tzeentch," the unicorn filly said with a bright smile.
"Thank who?" Rarity asked, cocking her head to the side.
The lights flickered back on as Gaela repaired the nearest lumen strip overhead, allowing Trixie to let her light spell end.
"And check out my mark! Isn't it awesome?" Scootaloo said, ducking down and wagging her rump in the air. She had a black "X" that was underlined with a line of teeth, such that it looked vaguely like a face.
"That's the same symbol that Tellis has on his shoulder pad," Rainbow Dash noted, raising an eyebrow.
"I know! Veggie God all the way!" Scootaloo said, raising her hoof up to the other pegasus.
"Heh. Veggie God. Classic," Rainbow replied with a snicker, bumping Scootaloo's hoof.
There was an uncomfortable pause as the ponies made an important connection.
"Wait, ya mean Scoots is part of that nutty 'Blood God' cult now?" Applejack asked, wincing.
"It's not just her," Twilight said nervously, speaking for the first time since they'd entered Trixie's room, "Applejack, do you remember somewhere ELSE we've seen Apple Bloom's cutie mark recently?"
The farmpony furrowed her brow. "Well, it ain't like a pyramid of three round things is exactly rare, as symbols go." Applejack patted her hip with a foreleg for emphasis.
"Okay, sure, but... think about it," Twilight insisted, "do you remember seeing something like that before? Like, say, on a suit of armor?"
All was silent for a few seconds as she considered it, hoof to her chin and eyes on the ceiling.
"Well, actually, Solon himself has somethin' like that, if I remember right. Oh! And that big ugly guy that saved us in the hangar! And all the big'uns that zapped in there with 'im."
Applejack lowered her head to stare down at Apple Bloom. Apple Bloom blinked back.
"Uh oh."
"Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying that they've all been inducted into some kind of evil cult?" Rarity asked, her eyes wide.
"No, we've each been inducted into a different evil cult. Which forms a single greater pantheon, but still," Sweetie Belle explained, apparently oblivious to the ponies' mounting unease, "also, you could have just asked us rather than puzzling it out like that."
"Well, congratulations!" Pinkie shouted suddenly, throwing bursts of confetti into the air as she reared up on her hind legs. "I'll throw you all a big 'Welcome to the Dark Side' party to celebrate getting your cutie marks and finding your true destinies as mutant pawns of evil Warp Gods!" Pinkie then found herself the subject of numerous annoyed glares, and her bright enthusiasm visibly dimmed. "No? Is this... are we not happy about this? Oh. Okay." She slowly lowered herself back onto the ground, smiling nervously.
Gaela finished with the last lumen strip and finally rejoined the conversation. "It would seem they made the conversion willingly, but nonetheless the fault for this state of affairs is mine. It was through my error that they were able to navigate the fortress unsupervised, and I apologize." The Dark Acolyte bowed her head.
"Hey, can WE can get an apology too? For that whole deal with the metal box?" Scootaloo groused.
"I already apologized for that," Gaela insisted.
"Not to us ya didn't!" Apple Bloom protested.
Applejack shook her head and then turned toward Big Mac. "Mac, what were ya thinkin' handin' the youngin's over to Gaela to look after?! She's about as qualified a foal-sitter as she is a chef!" Big Mac winced, dipping his head lower toward the floor.
Gaela frowned. "I would find your presumption of incompetence deeply offensive if events hadn't already vindicated it. But that aside, I took responsibility without offering Macintosh a chance to refuse. The fault lay with me." She paused briefly. "And, of course, with the idiot children."
"Takes one to know one!" Scootaloo snapped.
"Don't think that the Blood God is going to intervene to save you from getting stepped on, orange pest."
Twilight heaved a deep sigh. "Okay, let's think this through. There has to be a way to reverse this."
The fillies immediately looked alarmed.
"Reverse it? But why? Do you have any idea how long we've waited to get our cutie marks?" Apple Bloom asked, her eyes growing big and dewy.
"Those aren't cutie marks, they're Chaos marks," Twilight pointed out sharply.
"They're pictures on our butt that describe what we're about," Scootaloo said with a roll of her eyes, "cutie, Chaos, whatever."
"You don't UNDERSTAND," Twilight insisted, "you've been corrupted!"
"'Corrupted' is such an... ugly word," Sweetie Belle muttered as she approached the alicorn thoughtfully, "I prefer to say we've been CHANGED. In some ways we've changed for the better, and, maybe in some small, insignificant way we might also have possibly changed for the slightly worse. Kind of."
Rarity shook her head. "I'm sorry Sweetie Belle, but I have to side with Twilight on this. As much as we've learned to live with the humans' bizarre cult, to accept it into our own home is just-"
"I promise not to use magic in the boutique," Sweetie Belle interrupted. Then she reluctantly added, "or cook."
"... Is just the very ESSENCE of tolerance, is it not?" Rarity finished, suddenly addressing Twilight instead. "Besides, who am I to try to control my sister's life right down to telling her which religions are and aren't okay?"
Twilight gaped. "But... You... She..."
Rarity walked past the purple pony while she was still stuttering. "Come on, Sweetie Belle. We're staying the night here, so that gives me some extra time to think up a nice little dress to hide that mark from any suspicious royal guards."
"You're the best, Rarity!" Sweetie Belle cheered as she followed her sister out the door. Then she said much more quietly, "Nice save back there, Tzeentch."
"Really though, who is 'Tzeentch'?"
Applejack gave her younger sister a long sideways glance before she shrugged her shoulders. "Well, we should get goin' too. Ah'm hungry as a hog and we've got plenty to do when we get back to the farm tomorrow. Gotta rest up."
Twilight snapped her head around toward Applejack. "Wait, what? But that mark is-"
"Yeah, Ah know," the apple farmer said with a roll of her eyes, "but ya know what? This time yesterday Ah wasn't sure if Ah'd ever see my brother again. Just a few hours ago Ah wasn't sure he was gonna ever see ME again. And Celestia knows worse things coulda happened to 'em around here."
"Trixie is MOST pleased by the quality of human-made fire suppression systems," Trixie interjected briefly, "Trixie had the 'opportunity' to see them in action twice before Miss Gaela and Mister Macintosh arrived."
"Right. Thanks," Applejack mumbled before she put a foreleg around her little sister, "mah point is that right now Ah'm too thankful that me and mah kin are still in walkin' shape to worry about 'corruption' or whatever. Ah need some time to recharge 'fore Ah can panic about this."
"Thanks, sis!" Apple Bloom chirped. She didn't know what the big deal was at all, but she was glad that they weren't going to march her back to the temple and get her new cutie mark removed. She had no idea if that was possible, but considering how easy they were to get, who knows?
"So nopony minds if I keep MY cutie mark, right?" Scootaloo asked cautiously.
Rainbow Dash looked down at her and then shrugged. "I think it looks good on you."
"Awesome," the pegasus filly said with a grin. Being an orphan had its advantages sometimes.
"Wait! You guys! This is important!" Twilight protested as the other ponies save Trixie and Fluttershy began to head out of the room. "I think this is what Princess Celestia was worried about happening!"
"Now, Ah ain't sayin' she's wrong," Applejack noted as she led Apple Bloom into the hall, "but Ah WILL point out that she ain't exactly been battin' a hundred when it comes to the humans."
"Applejack, this has NOTHING to do with hoofball!" Twilight ran after the departing ponies, determined to be heard.
"I can hardly be considered an unbiased source, but I do think she's overreacting," Gaela said, her left hand tracing the Chaos Star emblazoned on her chest, "this entire fleet travels and fights in service to Chaos. Sparkle doesn't seem to find us THAT repulsive."
"Well, um, does it mean that they'll end up like Tellis?" Fluttershy asked meekly. "He's the only one of you that I know very well."
"Oh." Gaela's frown deepened. "Ah. Yes. I suppose that WOULD reflect poorly upon the members of the cults. But I can assure you that..."
Then she trailed off. "Wait, the orange one actually associates with Tellis, doesn't she? That IS a concern."
"Well, Trixie's concern ends at Trixie's front door," Trixie said, glad to have the noisy arguments carried out of her room, "really, if they're at that age and don't even have their cutie marks, then they obviously needed all the help they can get. It's quite closed-minded of Sparkle to insist that dark spirits beyond the veil are off the table."
"She has a valid point if the political atmosphere in Equestria deteriorates further. They could be maligned or imprisoned for bearing those marks. Such practices are the norm in the vast majority of human settlements," Gaela admitted, "although obviously the fault in that case would be-"
A loud thunderclap interrupted the Dark Acolyte, and every occupant of Trixie's room flinched as the walls quivered from a sudden wave of force.
"Yeep! What was that?!" Fluttershy yelped as she searched for a place to hide.
"Are we under attack? Is it the Tau again?" Trixie growled as she levitated a pillow into the air and revealed a pair of boltguns laying underneath. Suuna winced but generally remained calm, knowing that the alarm system would have informed them of any such assault.
Gaela's frown turned into a full-blown grimace as her optics briefly scanned the hallway. "Nothing so simple as that. It seems Serith has stopped by."
****
Hallway
Smoke wafted from Twilight's horn as she glared hard at the Chaos Sorcerer standing several meters away and blocking the only exit.
"Temper temper, Princess. You're in MY home now. Do try to show some etiquette." Serith's left arm was held out in front of him, and the psykant occulus set in his palm hummed brilliantly as it swallowed the ambient magic left over from Twilight's attack.
"Step. Away. From my friends," Twilight growled, a violet arc of energy whipping about the tip of her horn.
Rarity and Sweetie Belle were standing in the corner immediately behind Serith, with the former standing in front of the latter protectively despite being obviously scared out of her wits. The other mares and Big Macintosh were flanking Twilight on the opposite side of the Iron Warrior, Apples on one side of her with Pinkie and Rainbow on the other.
"Oh, but an opportunity like this is FAR too intriguing to relinquish," Serith replied as his helmet tilted toward Sweetie Belle, who gulped. "Here I thought your people bore some sort of resistance, perhaps even immunity, to the touch of Chaos. There are questions to be answered. I'll be taking the little psyker. In the name of science, of course."
Twilight made an incoherent growling noise, a ball of crackling energy gathering on the tip of her horn and preparing for discharge.
"You will NOT take my sister!" Rarity said shakily. She wasn't nearly as confident as Twilight was in their ability to face the Sorcerer, and she hadn't gotten any new weapons since they had gotten back.
Big Mac's helmet hissed as it shifted back up into place, enclosing his head. Serith actually found it quite interesting to see a pony in a power armor suit, but he had other curiosities to explore at the moment.
"Lord Serith." Gaela stepped into the hall with her power axe over her shoulder and a tired grimace on her exposed face. "My lord, I believe the Warsmith-"
"The Warsmith has nothing to do with this, Acolyte," Serith interrupted, "nor do you. Be silent, now."
The Iron Warrior dipped his force halberd down, the tip of its blade pointing toward Apple Bloom and Scootaloo off to the side. "My, but our cults are popular nowadays, are they not? They would make a poor substitution, but perhaps I could be persuaded to take the lesser two younglings."
"Yer not takin' nopony!" Applejack snarled.
"Say again, orange horse?" the Sorcerer asked.
Applejack cocked her head to the side. "Well, actually, now that Ah think about it, Ah guess it wouldn't hurt if-STOP DOIN' THAT!!"
Sweetie Belle chewed her lip as she watched the stand-off play out in front of her, idly wondering if using her new (and only) spell could possibly help the situation.
A fool and a coward, a voice laughed in her head, Ahriman was right about him. Solon should have left him as a worthless pile of dust.
Sweetie Belle, not really understanding but feeling quite upset at the Sorcerer, decided to take the initiative.
"Tzeentch says Ahriman was right!" the unicorn filly shouted suddenly. "You're a fool and a coward! Solon should have left you as dust!"
Sweetie wasn't exactly sure what she had been hoping to accomplish with the insult besides hurt his feelings. More to the point, she didn't really consider what would happen if she succeeded.
Throwing his arms out, Serith released a pulse of force that smashed into the mares and fillies and scattered them like bowling pins. Twilight released her spell on reflex as she was flung through the air, but the flickering magic sphere went wildly off-target and cut a molten gouge into the wall instead of Serith's face.
The Sorcerer turned around immediately to face the two white unicorns, both of whom had been slammed against the wall. "He... WOULD say that, wouldn't he?" the Sorcerer's voice was wavering, trying to contain and control his emotions.
Big Macintosh snorted as he raised his head. The boots of his suit had mag-locked him to the floor, and the kinetic wave had barely budged him. Serith wasn't looking his way anymore either, the Chaos psyker's attention entirely given over to Sweetie Belle as the young unicorn staggered upright.
"But enough about me," the Sorcerer said hotly, levering the force halberd at her, "let's begin. Experiment number one."
The force halberd crackled, seething with psionic power. Big Macintosh surged forward into a charge. Gaela snapped up her plasma pistol.
"All right, ALL RIGHT!! Everybody just calm the buck down!"
The energies around the halberd fizzled. Big Macintosh braked, his armored hooves screeching across the metal floor. Gaela blinked, and then stared at her pistol.
Trixie trotted past Fluttershy, who was watching the scene unfold near her door, and the entertainer cast an annoyed glance at the various mares and fillies who were picking themselves off the floor as she walked past them.
"Serith, did you say 'experiment'? Because if so, please allow Trixie to save you a heap of trouble and warn you that these three are NOT worth it." The blue unicorn cast a brief glare at Sweetie Belle, who admittedly looked plenty terrified already.
Serith hesitated. "They are the only ponies to have been touched yet by Chaos. The implications-"
"Can be observed from a safe distance, I'm sure," Trixie interrupted, reaching the Sorcerer and tapping his leg with a hoof, "those three are a magic catastrophe waiting to happen, and Trixie knows you have enough of a problem with lab explosions." She flicked her tail across the Iron Warrior's knee before she turned around and started heading back toward her room.
"Those were due to extraordinary circumstances," Serith said defensively as he followed Trixie, turning away from an utterly stunned Rarity and Sweetie Belle.
"Trixie's sure they were. And those three have 'extraordinary circumstances' written all over them," Trixie offered a disdainful look as Scootaloo stuck out her tongue, "besides, as much as Trixie enjoys seeing Sparkle and company snarl like a pack of angry timberwolves whenever they see you, Trixie wishes you'd restrain from actually fighting them."
"You think I would lose?" Serith chuckled darkly as he followed Trixie past the other ponies, feeling their glares on him as if they were trying to puncture his armor with their eyes.
"No. But Trixie doesn't want to associate with a pony murderer, and you're the only decent conversation Trixie can find in this place," the unicorn pointed out as she stepped into her room, "believe it or not, Trixie would miss you."
"An utterly bizarre sentiment," Serith chuckled as he glanced at Gaela. The Dark Acolyte took a step back and bowed her head, her frown slightly tighter than usual. "You're a very strange pony."
Then the Chaos Sorcerer walked into Trixie's room, and the door slid shut behind him.
"... Okay. What in the name of Tartarus just happened?" Rainbow Dash asked, rubbing her head with her hoof.
"I think... Trixie just saved Sweetie Belle," Twilight said uncertainly. Then she paused before adding, "With the magic of friendship."
"I really think Serith would be better dealt with using the OTHER kind of magic," Rarity quipped as she inspected herself for bruises, "the kind that imprisons troublesome sorts on the moon for a millennium or so."
Pinkie frowned. "I don't think that would work in this case. Couldn't they just go there and pick him up?"
"Sis, ya all right?" Apple Bloom asked in concern as Applejack adjusted her hat.
"Just mullin' a change of priorities, Bloom," Applejack admitted.
"How's that?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"Ah think Ah'll grab some human moonshine 'fore we eat. Seems like a perfect night fer it."
"Eeyup," Big Mac agreed, his usual affirmation distorted by his vox grille.
Fluttershy had stayed largely silent through the encounter and conversation that followed, and as her friends left she found her eyes drawn to Gaela. The Dark Acolyte wasn't very expressive at the best of times, even when one could actually see her face, but right now her brow was furrowed with such intensity that it was obvious something was bothering her.
"Miss Gaela? Are you... okay?" Fluttershy asked quietly.
Gaela was staring at her plasma pistol with a look normally reserved for when the weapon had suffered a catastrophic overheat. After several seconds, her biological eye twitched toward Fluttershy.
"I was about to shoot him," the machine cultist confessed, her voice missing much of the cold steel that it normally carried, "I didn't even hesitate. Had the entertainer not interfered..."
Fluttershy cringed. "You were going to shoot Big Macintosh?" It made a cold, terrible kind of sense, actually. Besides being a servant of the Iron Warriors, if Gaela had prevented them from actually hurting the Sorcerer then there was still a chance of most of them, at least, leaving the fortress alive. That prospect would have been a lot less likely if they had actually harmed an Iron Warrior.
Gaela's lips pressed into a thin line. "Negative. I was aiming at Serith."
****
Ferrous Dominus - sector 6 Trixie's room
"You can't deny that it's a fascinating turn of events. I'd really begun to think that you ponies may be immune to Chaos entirely."
Trixie sipped a cup of tea as she lay on a silk pillow atop a lounge chair. Behind her, Suuna was busying herself picking up the remains of Trixie's earlier puppet show that had been cut short.
"Trixie is pretty sure that's a good thing, but for the sake of curiosity, why did you think so?"
Serith leaned back against the wall, lifting his force halberd up in front of him to observe the weapon.
"Mostly my observations of you, Lady Trixie. Chaos corruption is rarely very subtle, and occurs quickly unless resisted. You have been perfectly placed to find yourself guided to the Eightfold Path, and yet you seem blind to it, utterly untouched by the madness of the Darker Powers."
Trixie quirked an eyebrow. "... Go on," she requested before tilting her tea cup toward her again.
Serith lowered his halberd and stepped over to the unicorn, staring into her eyes.
"You have been living amongst the tainted and dipping your mind into the Warp on a regular basis. You have shed blood for the sake of the Company, and thus to the purpose of Chaos and its supremacy. I have shared with you spells that I puzzled together from the dark whispers of daemonic voices. You sleep soundly each night despite the lack of psycomantic shielding to protect your mind from malevolent spirits, and suffer no troubling dreams and hear no voices. Am I right?"
Trixie took another deep slurp of her tea before shrugging. "Probably. Trixie doesn't see why that's so special, though. Didn't you say Trixie's horn protects her or something?"
"That is my... hypothesis, yes. But I lack data," Serith admitted, "your horn may merely protect you from Warp feedback or be a convenient method of projection."
He turned his gaze toward the door. "Those three younglings were not corrupted, but gave themselves willingly to the Dark Gods. In this manner they may have relinquished whatever protection is normally afforded your people against madness and mutation. But without further study, I am unable to say."
Trixie gulped down the last of her tea as she thought over the Sorcerer's comments. Truth be told, "madness" and "corruption" were pretty good descriptions of what she had gone through when she had used the Alicorn Amulet, an artifact that she had willingly taken up and forced her mind into. She had recovered from that though, with no lasting consequences other than persistent guilt and some kind of obscure "scarring" that Serith was barely able to detect.
Trixie idly floated her empty cup over to Suuna, who quickly took it to be refilled. Her experience probably had implications that would be of use to Serith, but Trixie decided to keep her experience to herself. She might have found Serith's company generally enjoyable, but that didn't mean she approved of experiments that might involve tormenting and harming ponies.
"Who is Ahriman?" the unicorn asked suddenly, changing the subject completely. "Trixie heard what that filly shouted before you... well... took initiative back there."
Trixie detected a slight squeak of metal as Serith's gauntlet tightened around the shaft of his polearm.
The answer was a long time coming. Suuna brought Trixie's tea and set it down next to the pillow before leaving again.
Finally, Serith spoke. "Ahriman is a fool and a coward, who would be better off as a pile of dust," he said snidely, "as they say: 'it takes one to know one'."
"Okay, but... who IS he? Another Iron Warrior? A Tau? What?" Trixie asked. "Let's start with his species, at least."
"I'd rather not," Serith said simply, turning away and walking toward the wall. His eyes scanned the length of one of the banners pinned to the wall.
"It's just that Trixie doesn't know very much about you," the unicorn confessed before tasting the fresh cup of tea for temperature. Smacking her lips, she continued, "Every time we meet, we either talk about magic, or Trixie, or Trixie's magic."
"Do you not prefer it that way?" Serith countered, still facing away from the blue pony.
Trixie paused before taking another sip from her cup. "Okay, you've got Trixie there."
"Then by all means, let us discuss you," Serith said with a nod, turning toward Trixie, "tell me: how has progress been coming along on your caravan?"
Trixie scowled immediately, and then guzzled some tea before telekinetically slamming the cup down on the table. "It hasn't. Trixie finally managed to get some time with one of those Mechanicus people to work out all the details, and then when Trixie finished, the dolt said it would be put 'in the queue.' When Trixie asked where in the queue it was, the Dark something-or-other spouted a number that Trixie is fairly certain isn't even real. It had eighteen digits, a decimal point, and Trixie's pretty sure there were some variables or a logarithm somewhere in there too."
"It would seem that with the Tau an ever-present threat and our supply stock reduced, the Dark Magi have many projects they wish to see completed before working on paying an entertainer," Serith mumbled thoughtfully, "and of course, the creation of a vehicle for a xeno may grate when Magos Kaelith is trying to preserve material stocks."
"Trixie simply can't deal with such messed-up priorities!" the unicorn complained before slurping down more tea and then floating the empty cup to Suuna again.
The Chaos Sorcerer nodded. "Indeed, it's a shame. But I know of at least one... 'worker' who may be able to complete a project for you in-between his other duties. Not a caravan, of course; that would require the use of the hull presses among other things, and they are fully occupied."
Trixie raised an eyebrow. "Well, what else would Trixie want built, then?"
Serith hummed briefly. "Tell me: what did you think of that red pony's power armor suit?"
Trixie's eyebrow climbed further as Suuna returned with another full cup of tea, and she levitated it right out of the young woman's hand to hover below her chin.
"... Tell Trixie more of such suits."
****
Black Point - main command center
Shas'el Wraithstar sat behind a heavy desk ringed by monitor banks and control panels, his fingers laced together in front of him and an expression of carefully-reined fury on his face.
The Shas'el was surprisingly short and wiry for a member of the fire caste. He had never been muscular, but long years piloting a battlesuit to the exclusion of all other training and kinds of battlefield deployment had left his body much weaker than the infantry who marched under his orders. A thin braid of black hair was rooted in the back of his skull and trailed down his back.
Wraithstar was a cerebral leader who fought with strategy rather than example. He was a bitter, cynical sort of general that saw glory as nothing more than rookie's naiveté and honor as the dithering of the water caste. Getting things done was his creed and the only metric by which he judged himself and his Cadre.
And there had been precious little getting done as of late.
*That concludes the... the report,* said a Shas'vre officer, his throat tight as he completed his re-telling of distant events as relayed through panicked emergency transmissions. *Salvation Echo has been overrun and has fallen into enemy hands. The evacuation order was not given before communications were disrupted. It... It must be presumed that all personnel at the base have been killed or captured by the gue'la assault force.*
The two other Tau officers in the room, an earth caste Fio'o and an air caste Kor'vre, remained silent and ramrod straight, waiting for the news to sink in.
It didn't take long. *Infiltrators. We lost Salvation Echo to gue'la... INFILTRATORS.* It was not a question.
The Shas'vre considered reminding him that the team had apparently consisted mainly of local aliens, but dismissed the point as irrelevant; obviously the assault was in aid of the gue'la army that had eventually seized the base, so what did it matter the species of the actual infiltrators?
*We have tightened our security procedures here to make sure the same thing will not-*
*That is NOT what concerns me, soldier!* Wraithstar snarled. *What concerns me is that we have an entire artillery corp sitting on top of us, half a Chapter of gue'la super-soldiers, a flotilla of disguised warships hanging above us in orbit, and our only path OFF of this planet is now being pillaged by shock troopers!*
The Shas'vre cringed, having no response to that.
*And of all the things to lose it to! INFILTRATORS! We had a dozen plans to intercept or delay a strike force, but somehow the blasted apes managed to sneak a demo team into our hangars?*
None of the others said anything. It was something of a cruel irony that they, a Sept that specialized in such tactics, should find themselves crippled in such a way by an army that usually scoffed at stealth and guile. Space Marines were about as subtle as the power fists their leaders carried into battle, and the lesser humans were usually little better. Or such were the assumptions up until now.
*The fall of Black Point is a matter of initiative, now,* Wraithstar seethed, *yes, we can and will cause excruciating damage to the foe in our defense, but no strategy can account for what we're up against! This is the wrong battle, against the wrong foe, at the wrong time!*
*I don't think I need to remind you of what's at stake here,* interjected the Fio'o.
Wraithstar lifted a fist as if he was going to pound it against the desk surface, but then paused to let his temper cool for a moment.
*No, Fio'o, you do not. But high stakes will not power ion cannons, lend strength to railguns, or fill missile racks,* he turned his head away bitterly, his braid whipping about his head, *it is not will we lack, but resources. Material, ammunition, and bodies.*
The earth caste planner sighed. *There must be a way. Is it possible to take Salvation Echo back?*
*Yes, it is possible,* Wraithstar admitted, *and foolhardy. Trying to clear a base filled with Astartes? There's no way we could hide a deployment like that. If they deploy reinforcements to hold the hangars, we lose the battle. If they decide to attack Black Point to take advantage of our depleted reserves, we lose the war. We did the same to them; I'd wager one of their commanders would appreciate the opportunity to give us more of our own medicine.*
*I'd hoped we'd done more damage when we assaulted their fortress...*
*The gue'la fleet's supply stocks must be enormous to recover this quickly, to say nothing of their engineering teams.*
*What of the fortress itself, then? Can we get an infiltration team of our own inside THEIR base?* asked the air caste officer.
*Maybe,* Wraithstar admitted, *granted, their security has improved considerably since their previous lapses, but it is possible. But to what end? What would they break? For every heavy gun they could demolish there are ten more. The gue'la armories are large, and there are many. And the extremely high-value targets? Commanders? Reactors?* He laughed bitterly. *Well, suffice to say, that's an impossible order even before we consider the presence of MONSTERS.*
He slapped a hand on the desk. *The big problem is simply a matter of scale. We are a Kroot Hound stalking the feet of a Carnifex. The lesser problem is that our foes are acting erratically: ambushing convoys with irregular patrols, fortifying bizarre positions around alien villages, and using handfuls of infiltrators rather than legions of infantry and armor. If we can't predict their targets and tactics, then we can't hope to compensate for the difference in troop strength.*
*On the subject of their erratic strategies, Shas'el, I have my doubts that this latest assault is merely them trying to close the noose around us, so to speak,* the fire caste commander pointed out, *we haven't seen any activity from the base that suggests a deployment in our direction.*
*And that's why we're still breathing. But that could change within a day,* Wraithstar noted coldly, *relying on the mercy and cowardice of my enemies is not a strategy. And the gue'la have too little of either for comfort.*
*So then what can we do?* the Fio'o asked. *We can't defeat the enemy on their territory or ours, and we can't seem to draw them into any fights we CAN win.* He paused. *Can we at least recover the Warp core? It's the only component still missing. If it could be brought back...*
Wraithstar looked up at the other fire caste officer.
He wet his lips before speaking. *We had a Stealth Suit squadron scout the area where the Warp core was last found. Purely recon this time; maximum stealth, no engagement orders. They... managed to detect the core, but it was airborne and leaving by the time they got into sensor range.*
*So then by now the gue'la have it sequestered within their fortress,* Wraithstar growled, his brow furrowing.
*Well... I don't think so.* The Shas'vre found himself he recipient of some very intense, and somewhat incredulous, stares. *The thing is, they detected the Warp core, but not any gue'la vehicle that presumably would have been carrying it. Also, it was not moving toward the fortress. Its current location is unknown.*
There was a brief silence as each of the Tau officers thought that over.
*A mixed blessing, to be sure,* Wraithstar muttered, *you have my authorization to send out more scouting teams to find the core.*
*I believe I may be able to improve our suits' sensors to enable them to track the device from its last known location,* the Fio'o interjected, *it releases some unique energy particles that may leave a trail of sorts for several days.*
*Do it,* Wraithstar ordered, *we have to do everything we can to keep this situation from getting any worse.* Then he laced his fingers together again. *Success, however, may be out of our grasp... until the fleet arrives. Kor'vre?*
The air caste member shuffled uncomfortably. *The main battle fleet isn't due to arrive for almost a week. Give or take a few days.*
*Well, that's not very long,* the earth officer noted.
*With our strategic presence on this world quickly eroding, it's an eternity,* Wraithstar quipped, *but if we hold out until then, we'll have a whole host of new options.*
*Assuming they don't fall for the same trap we did and get cut apart by the 'freighters',* the Shas'vre grumbled.
The air officer glared at him. *The main fleet is too big to be ambushed as we were. Victory in a void engagement is assured.*
*No, it's not,* Wraithstar said sharply, *I'm tired of flinging men and weapons at these... renegades and watching our forces fall apart. They're strong, well-equipped, and far more clever than we gave them credit for. I want our communications system boosted and ready to dispatch a warning message the very moment we detect the fleet's presence. They must know everything about the threat here. Kor'vre, I want void combat plans in place that best avoid the gun batteries the gue'la have set up. I'll have my own strategies set out for the ground war, to coordinate our strikes with the fleet's forces.*
The other officers nodded.
*You are dismissed. For the Greater Good!*
*For the Greater Good,* the others intoned.
The earth and wind caste officers quickly filed out, each of them with a lot of work to do. The fire caste officer remained.
*Something else to say, Shas'vre?* Wraithstar murmured bitterly as he turned toward the monitor displays.
*Yes, Shas'el,* the other Tau said cautiously, *you have my... apologies. About Jerriha.*
Wraithstar's jaw tightened. *This is war, Shas'vre. We all make sacrifices. And mistakes.*
The officer winced. Jerriha was Shas'el Wraithstar's niece, and it was no big secret that she had been moved to the hangar base so that she'd be in a better position to escape the planet than the rest of them if things took a turn for the worse. Abysmal luck, then, that the turn for the worse should involve the base's capture.
*Besides, the Fireblade is a most capable warrior. I have no doubt that she acquitted herself well in battle with the dignity and ferocity expected of her rank.*
****
Salt Lick Canyon - command center
"Okay, hold on, this is my favorite part," said the Iron Warrior, pointing to the monitor that was hooked up to his helmet.
Several other Chaos Space Marines leaned in closer as they watched Jerriha plunge her knife into Applejack, and several started snickering as the orange pony head-butted the Tau in the stomach.
The snickers turned to full-blown laughter as the recording continued, showing Applejack battering her head into her opponent repeatedly.
"Dark Gods, that's hilarious!"
"How long does she keep this up for?"
"Ha ha ha haaah!"
"We should loop this so that it just shows the horse head-butting the gray over and over, and then pass that around!"
"Hell-o new screen saver!"
****
Black Point
*But enough about the hangars, Shas'vre. What of the gue'la we've taken on?* Wraithstar asked. *We may come to need all the bodies we can muster for a defense of the base.*
*The training is going about as well as could be expected. But the gue'la we saved are slaves, not soldiers,* the officer grumbled, *for every one of them eager to turn their guns on their former masters there is another who looks bound to flee once the shooting starts, and another who quails at the very thought of fighting Astartes. And even of those in the first category, zeal can only compensate so much for lack of experience and ill health.*
Wraithstar grimaced. *Do we have enough human weapons for them? I don't like the idea of equipping them with our own.*
*Almost, Shas'el. But I'm far less concerned with their combat strength than whether they'll break into retreat and trample our firing lines at the first casualty.*
The Shas'vre hesitated again. *I would also like to speak to you about the... native problem, Shas'el Wraithstar.*
The commander rolled his eyes as his seat leaned back further. *Fine. Go ahead.*
*We didn't really bring it up just now, but it's relevant that the infiltration team included equines rather than just humans. The natives are now participating openly in offensive military operations against us.*
*Unexpected, and yet I can't exactly bring myself to be surprised,* Wraithstar said blandly, *so what?*
*So, this implies a much deeper alliance than we'd guessed at so far,* the officer pointed out, *twice now we've seen evidence of the gue'la defending native settlements. The gue'la have obviously been reluctant to venture out of their fortress and engage us in open terrain, where we have a strategic advantage. But what if there were a way to lure them out?*
Wraithstar paused, and then his eyes narrowed. *Let me see if I understand the point you're dancing around, here. You think that if we terrorized the local villages the apes would swoop in to rescue them, and we could trap and eliminate them that way?*
*It is... an option, Shas'el. And we're painfully short of options at the moment.*
The Commander considered the argument. Briefly.
*No,* Wraithstar said sharply, *too many assumptions. Too many things that can go wrong. The gue'la may not be as helpful as we'd hoped. The natives may prove more dangerous than we'd expected. Or on the flip side, the gue'la response may be overwhelming, and we'd continue to lose the battle of attrition. I won't start committing war crimes on such thin hopes.*
His caste-mate nodded somberly. *Very well, Shas'el. So we can do nothing but wait?*
*I hate it more than you do. But there are times when inaction is the proper decision,* Wraithstar said bitterly, *besides, when it comes to the natives...*
He trailed off, and a grim silence hung in the air for several seconds.
*... I pity them,* Wraithstar finally admitted reluctantly, *they don't know what's happening, or why. They don't know what's coming. The gue'la will realize our aims soon enough. But the equines are merely an ember at the edge of a firestorm, a footnote in a struggle far greater than they could comprehend.*
*They're not the only ones,* the officer said coldly, *and if we can succeed here, they will not be the last. But we fight for T'au. For the Alliance. For the Greater Good.*
*Indeed, Shas'vre. But that would be little comfort to them, I think,* Commander Wraithstar blew out a harsh sigh, *you are dismissed.*
****
Ferrous Dominus - sector 7
"Wooooo-eeeeee! Every time Ah try that stuff, it tastes better'n the last time! Ah think Ah might not even sell the booze Ah got back at the farm! Might be nice to save it fer an occasion, y'know?"
Applejack was swaying slightly as she trotted ahead of the others, her hat sitting backward on her head. Her family and friends - plus whatever Gaela counted as - followed behind her. Most of them were considerably more sober.
Most of them.
"I didn' loosh," Rainbow Dash slurred as her wings twitched, "c'mon, I c'n take anudder glash." She was currently slung over Big Macintosh's rear, being held in place by his armor-mounted servo arm to keep her from flying off.
The stallion himself was completely sober. After the third bottle of synthehol without acquiring so much as a buzz, he had come to the conclusion that his new artificial liver apparently filtered and processed the drinks faster than they could affect him. His feelings about that were mixed.
"I can't imagine what kind of pony would actually want to LIVE in a place like this, but I for one hope more of them show up," Rarity said. She was again wrapped in black robes and other rubber articles that obscured everything but her horn, and had partaken very lightly of the drinks that evening. "A dessert shop is a good start, but this place is DESPERATELY in need of a proper restaurant."
"It might be happening," Gaela admitted as she trailed the equines, "according to the noosphere residency logs, three ponies aside from the pegasi couple have applied for residency in absentia and are awaiting notice. Apparently the merchant corps are mulling a formalized immigration procedure." Gaela, like Fluttershy and the fillies, had abstained from any of the harder refreshments.
Twilight glanced up at Gaela, almost tripped over her own hooves, and then steadied herself before she managed to ask her question. "Isn't it odd for ponies to settle-"
"Yes," Gaela interrupted.
"I didn't finish my question."
"It doesn't matter. There is no context in which ponies settling in an Iron Warriors' fortress is NOT odd," the Dark Acolyte said firmly.
Twilight had an objection to that, but the thought slipped away from her before Gaela finished speaking. She had tried to match Rarity's consumption of synthehol, but it seemed that her tolerance didn't quite match that of the glamorous unicorn.
"Maybe I should throw them a party!" Pinkie Pie said, bouncing at approximately three times the normal rate. She was literally hopping in little circles around Fluttershy. "An 'Avoid the Temple District, Seriously' party! Or would a 'Hope You Don't Get Blown Up From Space' party be better? Ooh! How about-"
"The next party you throw in Ferrous Dominus is likely to be met with ACTUAL artillery strikes," Gaela pointed out, "Lord Sliver is still quite upset at the last one."
"Boo! Well, fine!" Pinkie sniffed. "They still haven't paid for the first party anyway!"
"We're not going to pay you for disrupting our work schedule and creating enough gaps in our guard patrols that the slaves were able to escape with ease."
"But it was hard wooooork!"
Apple Bloom trotted up to her sister, her expression somewhat downcast as they neared the dormitories where they were housed.
"Sis, Ah'm still real worried about Crabapple. We ain't seen her fer hours."
Applejack gave her sister a sideways glance that turned into an upside-down glance as she stumbled.
"Oof! Whatcha worried fer? Gaela already called her, didn't she?" the orange pony asked as she picked herself up off the ground.
Apple Bloom pouted. "Ah don't trust her! Ya know she don't like Crabapple!"
"I can hear you, you know," Gaela said, her vox unit amplifying her voice to be heard over Pinkie.
"So what?" Apple Bloom shouted back harshly.
"Nothing. Your suspicion is entirely justified. I just thought you should know."
The redheaded filly fumed as she turned back to Applejack. "See? Can we go look for her?"
Applejack snorted as she adjusted her hat. It still didn't face forward, but it was no longer backward. "No way, no how. Crabapple is FROM here, remember?"
"Actually, the probes are dispatched from-"
"Not important, Gaela!" Applejack barked. "Mah point is, this place is huge, and the daggone bot is less likely to get lost than you! Ah mean, how would you even find her?"
"Tzeentch knows where she is!" Sweetie Belle chirped. Then her face scrunched up into a frown. "That's weird. He just started counting down, for some reason."
Rarity groaned, not bothering to ask again who "Tzeentch" was.
"See that?" Applejack challenged, poking her little sister in the chest with her hoof. "If ya can't rely on the voices in yer head, then ya might as well rely on the Dark Techies!"
Applejack turned around again and headed toward the dorms, only staggering a little bit this time.
"But sisss~!" Apple Bloom whined. "What if Bic Mac comes with us?"
"OH no!" Applejack said, stopping again as she twisted her head around. "Not this time! Like Granny always says: 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, when are ya gonna find yerself a nice pony and make me some great-grandfoals?'"
Rainbow Dash blinked, and then her head rolled to one side as she laughed. "Ha! She got it wrong!"
"Nope," Big Macintosh refuted, his head dipping slightly in embarrassment. Applejack's quote was quite accurate, although if she were in a better state of mind she never would have bothered quoting their grandmother.
Applejack cleared her throat noisily before she continued her lengthy refusal. "Ah leave ya here in Mac's care fer one afternoon and you go and sell yer soul to evil space gods! It ain't happenin' again!"
Apple Bloom recoiled, looking offended. "Ah did not! Ah sold mah soul to ONE evil space god."
"Oh, what's the diff'rence?" Applejack snorted as she rolled her eyes.
"Do you want an actual answer to that, or are you merely trying to dismiss her protest?" Gaela asked. "Because there's actually a very important difference."
"The second one."
"I see. Carry on, then."
Apple Bloom moped as Applejack stepped up toward the dorm entry way, the door sliding open in front of her.
"So long as we're in this here fortress, Ah'm not lettin' you outta mah sight again! And right now we're headin' to bed to get some shut-eye 'fore anythin' else happens today!"
Sweetie Belle's ears twitched.
Eight... Seven...
The sound of shouting and the distant thump of rapid, heavy impacts against the ground caused the group to halt.
Six... Five...
Either one of these on their own probably wouldn't have attracted their attention, since there were always big pieces of machinery rumbling through the avenues, some of which had legs, and there was just as often a man, cyborg, or Iron Warrior speaking at high volume for one reason or another. When the two coincided, however, there was usually a problem.
Four... Three...
"A daemon engine is loose," Gaela said with a grimace as she watched a Maulerfiend charge down the avenue at high speed.
"It wasn't my fault," Fluttershy said quickly and for no reason that Gaela could think of.
Two... and... show time.
Applejack's head drooped. "Aw, horseapples."
The Maulerfiend slowed rapidly as it approached the wide-eyed ponies, most of whom had never seen a daemon engine up close before, if at all.
Fluttershy was particularly unnerved. Right away she felt something different about this Maulerfiend compared to the daemonic war machines she had met before. Its movements were too stilted and precise, its maw released no bestial snarls or grunts of exertion, and its attention didn't wander curiously. Even as it slowed to a lazy walk it moved forward with focus and calculation, paying no heed to the ponies that were scrambling out of its way except for one.
"Wh-What is that thing? What's goin' on?" Apple Bloom asked nervously as she backed away. It didn't escape her notice that the blazing crimson eyes of the mechanical beast seemed to be fixed on her.
The next thing she knew, Applejack and Big Macintosh were standing in front of her, glaring defiantly at the daemonic siege walker.
"You back the HAY off," Applejack snapped, "Ah've had a mighty rough day, and right now Ah'm too tipsy to consider how stupid it is to try an' stop somethin' yer size! You hear me?!"
Apparently the Maulerfiend did hear her, because it paused in its advance and then backed away a few steps as ordered.
Everyone found this behavior rather puzzling.
"Uh... Gaela? Any thoughts?" Twilight asked.
The Dark Acolyte immediately began running optical scans, and she immediately began finding incongruences in the Maulerfiend's noosphere registry, energy patterns, and data cachet.
She also noticed that a piece of another machine had been welded onto its right hip. The piece was a mechanical leg, but resembled a long metal compass point. It was painted pink, and had a strange picture scrawled on it of a smiling apple with little crab legs.
"I... I have a theory..." Gaela managed to say around the lump in her throat.
Then the Maulerfiend raised its head and growled.
It wasn't an angry, bestial growl, and for that Fluttershy found herself further unnerved. The others mostly found it annoying; a discordant, reverberating snarl that went on for way too long. Big Macintosh waited to see if his helmet visor would translate the noise into something comprehensible, but it did not.
Gaela was confused as well, but only for a moment. The Maulerfiend's throat and mouth were constructed to mimic a living animal's so that the daemon could emit terrifying howls and other such instinctive forms of auditory communication as easily as possible. It was not made to conform to the two-tone language of binary, which it seemed to be trying to speak. Any mechanical system would be unable to pick it up, detecting too many different notes and unstable changes in pitch. Members of the Dark Mechanicus, however, were practiced in many strange dialects and complex variants of basic machine code, and her ears picked up the key elements in seconds.
Rainbow Dash squirmed nervously, really wishing that she wasn't still pinned to Big Mac's armor. She would feel a lot more comfortable if she were in the air above this new monstrosity rather than stuck near the ground right in front of it. "Okay... so... whadda we do?"
"That's up to Apple Bloom," Gaela said. Her tone of voice was even more dull and listless than usual, which actually impressed some of the equines.
"Why Apple Bloom?" Applejack asked.
"Because she is Crabapple's command unit," the cyborg deadpanned.
The ponies all stared up the Maulerfiend, which sat on its haunches as its lasher tendrils twitched in the air all around it. Then they lowered their gazes back to Gaela.
"So you're saying that this thing is..." Twilight prompted.
"This thing, designated as a Maulerfiend siege walker, now hosts Crabapple's consciousness," the Dark Acolyte's servo arms drooped as she said it, as if it sapped her energy reserves to admit such an absurdity.
The massive war walker nodded its head, the gears in its neck grinding noisily. All the while the shocked and nervous expressions of the young fillies slowly shifted into thrilled grins.
"... HOW?!" Applejack demanded, barely able to shout the question with her jaw hanging slack.
"The Warp did it," Gaela mumbled.
"CRABAPPLE!! It's really you!" Apple Bloom shouted in glee as she darted between Big Mac's armored legs toward the siege walker.
"This is awesome!" Scootaloo cheered, likewise bolting for the mechanical monster with a huge grin on her face.
You should call shotgun, Tzeentch said to Sweetie Belle.
"Shotgun!" Sweetie Belle called as she joined her friends, having no idea what that word even meant.
As the other ponies slowly came to terms with this bizarre news, Twilight noticed that Gaela was leaning on her axe and clutching it with both hands, as if it were a crutch.
"Uh... Gaela? Are you all right?" the alicorn asked uneasily.
"I suddenly regret not drinking," mumbled the Acolyte miserably.
****
Ferrous Dominus - Solon's quarters
Solon's legs clanged noisily across the metal flooring as he walked into the section of the manufactorum block that was designated as his quarters.
Unlike his forge, his sleeping space was small and simple. Or at least it was simple to the extent that it wasn't filled with grandiose archeotechnology or manic displays of data cascading all around. It was still somewhat complex and unusual; he didn't sleep like other Astartes, after all.
A set of locking bays sat on the floor for his legs, and a bank of cogitators lined the walls to accommodate his "dreams". The only spot of the wall not devoted to data cores and logic engines was a patch that had been set aside for a small incense burner with the mark of Nurgle sitting atop it. It was a small, almost pitiful little shrine, but somehow it felt appropriate for the setting; a single shred of faith and sentimentality surrounded and dwarfed by a phalanx of thrumming calculation and cold metal.
A fitting metaphor for its owner.
Solon stopped and bowed his head before the altar, his optics zooming in on the parasites that scuttled about the hot dish and the flies that hovered lazily in the noxious smoke that wafted from it.
"Blesh the Plaguefather, our lord Nurgle. Bleshed be the circle. Life comesh to death, and death comesh to life. We are the guardiansh of the cycle. From birth comesh decay. From love comesh hatred. From creation comesh deshtruction. The wheel turnsh. Praishe Nurgle."
His prayer complete, the Warsmith stalked forward into the locking bays, his legs sliding into each mechanism before the heavy latches clapped shut and magnetized. His heavy bolters were likewise disconnected, and his servo claw reached up into a bay on the low ceiling that clamped shut around it. Such precautions were necessary, for the extremely vivid nature of his dream/simulations could otherwise easily cause a nerve twitch that would send a limb or burst of heavy bolter fire through the cogitator banks.
With a pleased sigh, he heard the nerve uplink arm lower itself and slowly plug into the socket in the back of his helmet, inserting with a brief spray of dim sparks.
His vision darkened.
Within seconds his consciousness had completely left the waking world and been submerged completely into the matrix that the cogitators imprinted on his subconscious. His vision returned slowly, although there wasn't yet much to see. His body was a wire-frame construct, shaped like an ordinary post-human and awaiting specific details to fill in. The land around him was an ethereal fog; a haze waiting to take the shape of a specific memory.
"A Forge World, this time," Solon mumbled, watching as a screen flickered into being from nowhere and presented a long list, "how about... Praxis V was a nice, long battle." The list blurred as it scrolled down at high speed, then stopped suddenly on the planet name in question. "Location settings. Manufactorum complex..."
Solon trailed off as some kind of tapping noise from behind him interrupted his train of thought.
The Warsmith turned around.
Princess Luna stood barely a meter away from him, one back leg tapping the ground in a steady rhythm and a decidedly displeased frown on her face.
"... Were you waiting for me?" Solon asked, puzzled. He was more or less expecting the dark-furred alicorn to show up as a matter of course by now, but she had never arrived this early before.
Luna stopped tapping her hoof, and her eyes narrowed. "Thou did not rest last night."
Solon stared at the agitated princess for several long, silent seconds.
"Really? Is this where we're at now?" the Warsmith finally asked. "I have to explain my absences to you like a wayward spouse?"
"We art merely... curious," Luna amended unconvincingly, "we arrived per our usual routine only to find thee missing. We waited for some time, but to no avail."
Solon snorted as he turned away, going back to his previous task of selecting the simulation parameters. "I'm sure it will come as a shock to you, Princess, but I have many duties and diversions during my waking hours that take priority over entertaining you."
Luna rolled her eyes. "We art aware. Still, some manner of explanation or forewarning would hath been polite."
"Then consider me impolite," Solon replied blandly, "so did you just lay about my resting bay waiting for me the entire night?"
"We did not," Luna informed him curtly, her nose in the air, "we have other means to divert ourselves besides your memories."
****
??? - The previous night
Big Macintosh laid on a hill overlooking Sweet Apple Acres, a cool breeze making waves through the grass all around him.
As he gazed peacefully at his family's home and livelihood, another pony slowly stepped up behind him, its figure hazy and indistinct.
"We're mighty proud of you, son," the figure said as Big Macintosh glanced up at it, "what you've done fer the farm, what you've done fer our country, and even what you did fer the humans. You've done right by us. Ah want ya to know that."
"Thanks, Pa," Big Mac said as he turned his sleepy, half-lidded gaze back toward the farm, "Ah messed up, though. Times're hard enough as it is. Fer AJ and the others to lose me now..." he sighed miserably.
"Now don't you count yerself out just yet," the figment said, "us Apples have always been hard to put down fer good. And even if you do come knockin' to see me and yer ma, you've got nothin' to be sorry about."
The wisp of a stallion snorted. "Ya went out just like every red-blooded Equestrian stallion should: defendin' yer family from rampaging alien invaders."
Big Macintosh had to mull that over for several seconds. "Ah don't reckon too many stallions go out that way, Pa."
"Details, mah boy. Anyway, yer fate will be decided soon 'nuff. But so long as Ah'm in touch, Ah have somethin' important to tell ya."
Big Mac turned his head up again.
The apparition paused.
Then it paused some more.
Seconds stretched into a full minute without a word or a gesture.
Then, finally, the sudden silence was broken, albeit from a completely unexpected direction.
"Ah, Mister Macintosh! 'Tis you after all! Most fortuitous!"
Big Mac faced forward again to see, of all ponies, Princess Luna trotting up the hillside. He glanced back behind him at the still-form of his father, only to watch as the wispy figure seemed to disintegrate in the wind.
His attention switched back to Luna.
"Surely thou recalls us! We were thy partner during the summer wrap-up festivities this very year!" Luna announced as she reached the top of the hill.
"Eeyup," Mac replied, still bearing the same unshakable, half-lidded expression. Of course he would have recognized Luna whether or not he had personally met her before, but he didn't bother pointing this out.
"Ah, excellent! We art most pleased to find thee here!" Luna said brightly. The Princess paused for a moment before she continued. "This may seem an odd query, but hast thou any inkling as to the whereabouts of Warsmith Solon? We were searching for him and happened upon thee within his fortress."
Big Mac thought on that subject briefly. "Nope," he replied. He didn't know any Warsmith Solon, nor did he know why he might be in such a person's fortress. He vaguely remembered hearing that name from Applejack, but didn't bother to pursue the thought; the answer to Luna's question was obvious enough.
"We expected as much," Luna said with an irritated snort. "Ah, well. If that is the case, then we hast a different purpose here."
The draught horse remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"We would make this a... drat, what is the term the youth use nowadays?"
The dark blue alicorn furrowed her brow as she frowned. Then she brightened suddenly. "Aye, now We recall! We art here for a 'booty call'!"
Big Mac's eyes snapped open the rest of the way.
****
Solon's dreamscape
"Although now that thou brings up the subject, why is Mister Macintosh in thy fortress?" Luna asked. "We likewise detected the other Elements of Harmony."
Solon didn't remember mentioning Big Macintosh and had no idea how that particular name had occurred to the Princess, but he answered her anyway.
"Mister Macintosh took a fusillade to his flanks, it would seem," Solon said as he navigated a cascading series of menus floating in the air, "you have quite the xeno infestation around your rural lands."
Luna blinked, and then her eyes bulged. "He hath been attacked? He did not mention this!" she shouted, alarmed. Then she frowned. "Come to ponder it, he did not mention much of anything in our time together." Then her eyes drifted to the side. "Albeit his mouth was otherwise occupied for much of it."
"Sure. In any case, he's better now." Solon mumbled, completing his selections.
In an instant, matter and light seemed to burst all around them, as if Luna and Solon were witnessing the very birth of creation. Then, abruptly, light took on shapes and matter collapsed into place.
Luna looked around with poorly-concealed excitement to see what wonders from the far corner of the galaxy she would witness tonight.
They were in a large office of some sort, its walls completely overrun with monitors, control panels, and cogitator banks. In the center of the office was a hololith table, and it was there that Solon settled down.
The Warsmith had an augmetic arm this time, and his face was overrun with optical sensors and wiring. One of his legs was bionic as well.
Luna's attention was inevitably drawn to a balcony, however, and the scene that was presented beyond its railing. A vast city, seeming to stretch all the way to the horizon and riven with smokestacks and foundries, lay beyond the platform. Tracer rounds from hundreds of guns flared brightly as they danced across the rooftops, and in the distance she could see enormous two-legged machines bigger than any pony-built building marching among the industrial sectors.
"Let's keep this simple, Techpriest. Pledge yourself to the Dark Gods and you and your coterie will live."
Luna turned around and saw that on the other side of the room there was a darker, less action-packed encounter. A Techpriest in dark red robes was being held between two Iron Warriors while a third one in terminator armor spoke to the prisoner.
"You have skills that are of use to us. And those that are of use to us would see themselves spared, and rewarded. I don't think I need to explain what happens to those who are NOT of use to us."
The Techpriest seemed undaunted. "I serve no gods besides the Omnissiah. You ask the impossible."
"The Dark Gods ARE the Omnissiah," the Iron Warrior growled through his vox grille, "you live within your stunted ideology, shut yourself off from the truth slowly creeping its way across the galaxy... we can show you the way, Techpriest, but you must take the first steps yourself."
The priest's opticals flickered briefly. "Does not compute. The Emperor is the Omnissiah."
Luna winced as the sound of a combi-bolter firing rang through the room.
"Ugh. Arguments about religion are just the worst, aren't they? They never go anywhere useful," the Terminator grumbled as smoke seeped from his weapon. "Send in the next one."
Luna turned away from the scene. Not out of disgust, horror, or any sort of moral impetus; it was simply that she was here to do battle with ghosts of the past, not watch or participate in the murder of prisoners. SO boring.
"If you want to play at being Princeps, there should be a Titan in the adjoined building whose crew has been eliminated," Solon said suddenly.
Luna blinked and turned toward him. "We art already a Princess," she pointed out.
"No, PRINCEPS. A Titan pilot. That's what they're called," the Warsmith mumbled as his hands drew lines in the air over the hololith projector.
Luna was about to take his suggestion, but her gaze lingered on Solon and the image hovering in front of him.
It was a schematic for a suit of armor. Power armor, no doubt. What she found absolutely intriguing, however, was that the armor obviously wasn't shaped for a human, post-human, or any sort of bipedal creature. It was pony armor.
Ignoring the shouting and another burst of gunfire behind her, the alicorn trotted eagerly up to the projector. "And what, may we ask, is tonight's project about, Warsmith?"
"Something that Serith requested on behalf of Miss Trixie. Apparently we can't manage to get her vehicle built, so he wants me to make her an armor suit instead," Solon sighed slightly, "it seems rather unnecessary to me, but whatever. I just hope he explained to her that there's going to be surgery involved to install the nerve sockets."
Luna placed her front hooves on the projector, grinning at the hololith. "'Tis a wonderful piece! And thou hast already progressed so far with the design!"
"Yes, I'm just finalizing a basic module design before I work on the modifications to fit Miss Trixie," Solon mumbled, several hololith screens popping up around him as his fingers drew patterns and poked at certain points upon them. "I think I'll call it Centaur pattern armor. This will be variant U."
Luna grinned. "Most fascinating. Can we requisition-"
"No," Solon interrupted without pausing in his work.
Luna's grin vanished. "And why not?"
"Well, first off - and this is just for starters - the last time we met in the waking world, you tried to kill me," the Iron Warrior pointed out glibly.
Luna looked affronted. "Art thou STILL holding a grudge over that? One would think it t'were the first time thou hast evaded murder."
"It's certainly not, but that doesn't help your case," Solon pointed out.
The alicorn princess puffed up her cheeks. "Our subjects hath forgiven us for our attempts upon their lives," she pointed out.
"Have they, now? And do they shower you with gifts as part of their 'forgiveness'?"
Luna tilted her head to the side. "... Nay, they do not," she admitted reluctantly, and with a mental note to investigate the matter of her tithes and why they've been rather scarce since her return.
"Then it's rather silly to expect such a thing from a Lord of Chaos, is it not?"
Luna's muzzle scrunched up as she considered his point.
"Please?" she tried, smiling hopefully.
"It distresses me that it's taken you this long to consider asking politely," Solon deadpanned.
"So dost that mean that-"
"The answer is still no."
"Ponyfeathers."
****
Deep space - bridge of the flagship Black Tide
*Yes, Shas'o. We have entered the outer limits of the system and have regrouped with the research vessel Desh'ruun and her escort. I have a full report on their progress so far, as well as a review of supply distributions.*
The Tau Admiral stood stiffly in front of the fire caste high officer seated across from his station on the bridge of the Lamman Sept flagship.
Commander Voidsong was every inch a Fire Warrior, lithe but well-muscled despite her taking to combat in a battlesuit as most commanders did. A short crest of white hair stood stiffly on her scalp, tipped sharply backward. Her expression was fixed into an almost permanent snarl, and on this occasion there was little reason for it to be lighter.
In theory, within the bridge of a starship the Shas'o High Commander answered to the Kor'o Admiral and should have been the one relaying data and offering potential strategies to him. Theory meant little in the Lamman Sept, however, and long practice and habit had left no doubt who guided this fleet.
Voidsong's lips pressed into a thin line as she scrolled rapidly through the proferred information on her terminal to pick up the items that were of interest to her.
*So then the situation is unchanged. We've picked up nothing from system 319-V?*
The Admiral grimaced. He always found it distasteful when star systems were reduced to a mere number. *Correct, Shas'o. The Centaur system is quiet, and we've picked up nothing on either our conventional or modified communication arrays.*
Voidsong scowled. *Then Shas'el Wraithstar has failed.*
*We know only that the-*
*We know that his device is not functioning, which is the entire purpose of his mission,* the High Commander snapped, *thus, he has FAILED.*
The air caste Admiral took a deep breath. *Your orders, Shas'o?*
*What else can we do?* she asked irritably, banishing the reams of data with a swipe of her hand. *Set course for the third planet. Full speed. Whatever has delayed or defeated him, it will be dealt with and we will finish this.*
The Kor'o pursed his lips. *There are... many vessels that are still in dire need of repairs, Shas'o, and we HAVE arrived ahead of schedule.*
Voidsong gave him an annoyed look. *A lead that we can't afford to waste if we have to clean up Wraithstar's mistakes. As always, time is of the essence.* She leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing. *ETA?*
The Admiral suppressed a sigh. *We can be within high orbit around Centaur III in thirty hours.*
*Do it. We are very close, Kor'o. I will not allow us to stumble now.*