//------------------------------// // First Impressions // Story: Of Xenos and War // by Snake Staff //------------------------------// ++Lunar-class Cruiser Kyne’s Fury, Orbiting Denton III++ ++3.633.879.M39++ An irritating buzz filled Twilight’s ears, jerking her from comfortable reverie. “No… stop it…” she pleaded softly, folding her equine ears down over her head and burying her face in her pillow. “Five more minutes…” The buzz ignored the alicorn’s requests for mercy, pounding its helpless opponent until she submitted. “Alright… alright…” Twilight cracked open her eyes with a yawn. “I’m up. I’m…” she stretched her stiff legs and yawned. “Up.” Twilight reached a hoof over the source of the buzz and swatted ineffectually for a handful of seconds before her brain finally caught up with the rest of her. Her horn flared briefly, and the noise finally ceased. With another yawn, the alicorn forced herself from her place of rest and stretched her sore wings. The bed was too large for her, and somewhat stiff besides, but it was the sole place where she’d gotten real sleep for the past five days. Alicorn biology was potent, true, but even it had its limitations. “Surely they can’t be here already…” the sleepy mare mumbled, more in the vague hope that fervently wishing it might make it true more than a belief that it was. She doubled checked. No such luck. She had set the timepiece herself, after all. Her conscripts would be arriving soon, and she had a handful of days to turn them into a passing semblance of an effective team. Hopefully their impeccable records meant that it shouldn’t take too long. As her armor began fitting itself back over her body, Twilight simply hoped nothing would go wrong. ++Aquila-class Shuttle Emperor’s Grace, Denton III++ ++3.632.879.M39++ Sergeant – he presumed he was still technically a sergeant, at least for now – Alex Aisen sat mutely in place like a good little soldier, and tried not to draw too much attention to himself. With the Inquisition already on his back, he really didn’t need to give them any additional reason to dig around into his background. He, like all the grunts, had heard rumors of what the Inquisition did. It was said they had marvels of techno-sorcery that could rip a man’s deepest, darkest secrets from the pits of his mind, or tortures that could keep you alive for weeks after they’d cut off all your limbs with a rusty spoon. He didn’t know what he believed about his new bosses, but at the moment Aisen found himself ardently wishing he hadn’t skipped the Emperor’s services so many times. The shuttle’s transport bay was beginning to get a bit crowded. At first it had just been him and the pair of goons, but they’d made several more stops since then, each time adding a man. There were three others: a muscled giant that looked like he could have been half Ogryn, a plain-looking fellow with a creepy red augmentic right eye who hadn’t made a sound, and another average-sized man who alternated between whispered prayers and shaking. In better circumstances, Aisen would have started a betting pool on how long it would take him to wet himself. Sadly, the Inquisition might take such a thing the wrong way. So Aisen had repressed his natural instincts and sat quietly during the ride, in case they were being monitored somehow. The goons had gone, presumably to collect another unlucky soul for this little project of- “HEY! No need to shove, I’m going! I’m going!” came a faint but audible voice from the direction of the opened landing ramp. Aisen sat up a little straighter. That voice sounded… female. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. In a few moments, a woman was “escorted” into the shuttle’s transport bay by the same two lovely gentlemen who’d taken Aisen and the other three. She, alone of the new men, looked pissed about the experience and seemed stupid enough to show it. One of the men gave her another shove towards an empty seat. “Watch it you ugly son of a squig!” the newcomer sniped irritably at the man. Still, she took her seat as one of the guardsmen moved in the direction of the cockpit. Aisen evaluated the woman as she strapped in from the legs up with a critical eye. “Not a bad figure… Not too tall or short… Too well-muscled though… And Emperor, those scars…” he gave a slight grimace. The woman’s face looked like something had torn it to ribbons and stitched it back together again. Poorly. “Ugly fragger…” If this was going to be the limit of regular female companionship for however long the Inquisition kept them for, the trip was going to be even worse than he’d feared. Sergeant Aisen noticed the other guardsman returning from his cockpit trip and strapping himself in. Shortly thereafter, he felt and heard the Aquila shuttle rising again. “I hate flying,” he thought as the familiar feeling of nausea began to well up in him. So distracted was he that he even missed hearing the first bit of the guardsmen muttering to each other. “… last of ‘em,” said one in a low tone. “Mean we can finally dump ‘em on her and get back to Tersius?” replied the other, sounding irritated. “That’s about it, yeah.” The wheels in Aisen’s head turned over these new bits of information. So their handler was a woman as well, eh? One thought came to mind as the shuttle rose high above the hive city and its toxic clouds. “I wonder if she’s cute.” ++Lunar-class Cruiser Kyne’s Fury, Orbiting Denton III++ ++3.633.879.M39++ Twilight sighed and ran the brush through her mane one final time. Delicately setting it down, she checked herself again in her small portable mirror. She’d washed the sweat, dirt, and accumulated grime from her coat. Her short-cut mane was finely combed, free of all knots and tangles. She had carefully plucked and preened her feathers to a straight and proud shape. Her armor was polished to a shine and fit snugly around her form. Twin bolt pistols were cleaned, shined, and loaded for action. The Inquisition’s symbol sat prominently on her grey armor for all to see. With all this fussy grooming, she almost felt like… “No.” Twilight closed her eyes and yanked the brakes on that particular train of thought. “Rarity is gone, like the others. It’s just you now, and you need to make a commanding first impression.” Turning her attention back to her mirror, she flattened the last frizzled spots of her coat and set her coat brush aside. Over her years in the Imperium, she’d learned that one essential element to get humans to ignore her species and work with her was to appear commanding. Prominent and repeated invocations of her Inquisition links were also valuable. Often, the only thing capable of overcoming hatred for xenos was fear of the Inquisition. “What would Princess Celestia say, if she saw you now?” said a small, repressed voice in the back of her mind. “She’d say nothing, because she’s a rotten carcass if not vapor by now. She and her harmony died years ago,” Twilight’s rational mind fired back at the traitorous part of her. She opened her room’s door with a flick and trotted out into the corridor. Titus was waiting for her in full Stormtrooper getup. “Hey,” he said, dully. “You ready to go meet the new grunts?” Twilight nodded, and they set off together. They walked the ship’s corridors in silence for some time before Titus spoke up again. “A part of me still can’t… still can’t believe everybody’s dead. That we’re… replacin’ ‘em.” Twilight nodded sympathetically. “I can relate. Believe me.” Then Titus did something she’d never seen the Inquisitorial Stormtrooper do, ever, in all their long years together. He shed a few tears. “I’m sorry,” he said, weakly. “I’m sorry, but… Emperor help me, I just miss her so much, you know?” “Trust me when I say I do. But you need to be strong. Take that sadness, take that pain, and store away in a little box. Take it out when we meet them again.” Twilight’s expression slowly contorted into one of utter ice. “And kill them,” she half-whispered. “Cut them down like the animals they are. No pity, no mercy, no regret. Let your sadness and loss…” she took a deep breath and gave a thin smile. “Fuel the fires of your hatred.” Titus nodded, slowly. “Thanks,” he said. They two walked the ship’s corridors for some time before arriving, but spoke no more. Sergeant Aisen sat mutely at a long table where he and the other four grunts had been, for lack of a better word, dumped by the twin Imperial Guardsmen who had taken them to this ship. The others had really just continued to exemplify their behavior from the shuttle. The muscled hulk, who Aisen in a truly epic feat of originality had mentally dubbed “Tiny”, continued to stare mutely into his hands and not say or do very much. In fact, he hadn’t done much of anything but grunt vaguely and follow orders the whole time Aisen had seen him. Red Eye – hey, what were you expecting, lyrical poetry? – spent his time staring at the others and the room around him, evaluating but not making much sound. Whiner, as he’d nicknamed the other man, continued to mouth prayers to the Emperor every thirty seconds or so, but had surprised Aisen by having managed to avoid pissing himself as of yet. As for the group’s sole female member, whom he’d simply dubbed “Ugly”, she had continued to be the loudest of the bunch. “What the hell is taking them so long?” she muttered irritably. “I came when they bloody well called for me, the least they could do is show their asses before we all die and rot in here.” “The Emperor’s Inquisition is a tremendously busy organization, to be sure,” said Red Eye in a level tone. “That they do not consider our comfort a high priority is to be expected.” “The bastards could at least bother to tell us what in the damn hells is going to happen to us.” Ugly continued, shaking her head. “Swears like a drunken Navy man,” Aisen thought. “Reminds me of dear ol’ Mom, Emperor rest her soul.” Aisen chose to continue sitting silently, determined not to make a target of himself like that woman seemed determined to do. Some commissars felt it was perfectly acceptable to shoot a man for backtalk like that, what would the Inquisition do to them? He had a full life of postwar booze and girls ahead of him (he hoped), and he didn’t intend to lose that dream now. Without warning or preamble, the door to their little room opened itself. Craning his neck to peer around Tiny, Sergeant Aisen saw a tall, rugged-looking man in full Stormtrooper armor step through. “But I thought the commander was a woman?” he thought, puzzled. The man took a few steps in and then paused, hands behind his back and back to the wall. He looked out sternly on the lady and gentlemen seated before him with a neutral expression on his face, before nodding in a satisfied manner. He turned his head back towards the door and spoke. “They’re all here. And alone.” “Alone? What does that matter?” Aisen asked himself, even as he craned his neck again to see who might be coming through next. When he got his answer, his heart skipped a beat. Aisen blinked. “No, that isn’t possible!” He rubbed his eyes, wondering what bizarre, alcohol-induced hallucination he was seeing. But when he took another look, there it was. A small, lavender, horned, winged equine walked into their small room in full grey armor, twin bolt pistols hanging from its belt. It wore the symbol of the Emperor’s Holy Inquisition prominently on one shoulder pad. It looked like an animal. A fantastic beast of burden. But one look in the thing’s eyes told him it was intelligent. “Xeno,” he breathed. Aisen reached for his laspistol. It wasn’t there, of course. It had been confiscated hours ago. But the instinct, the ingrained Imperial command to destroy the alien, moved his fingers though he consciously knew it was hopeless. Finding nothing on his belt, Aisen simply opted to sit there, eyes wide and jaw agape, too stunned to even vocalize any more thoughts. Not everyone was so silent. “What the bloody hell is that?” Ugly banged her hand to the table and got to her feet, shouting at the Stormtrooper, who seemed oddly at ease with this whole thing. Whiner had also shot to his feet, hands groping his belt for weapons he had to know weren’t there. Tiny and Red Eye remained seated, though the former looked as shocked as Aisen. Only Red Eye looked perfectly at ease with the whole thing. “That,” replied the Stormtrooper in a tone that brooked little argument. “Is your new commanding officer.” “Inquisitorial Acolyte Twilight Sparkle,” came a female voice. Aisen looked again. Had the xeno just spoken? The lavender equine’s wings spread wide, and it left the ground with easy flaps. Its armored… “Hooves, presumably?” Its armored whatever the hell it had instead of good, human feet came to rest on the table top. “I will be your new commander,” this “Twilight” said in a calm but authoritative tone. “Now, I know that this may be hard for-” “You’re damn well right about that, ain’t ya?! I’m a good soldier, a faithful servant to the Emperor!” Ugly, still on her feet with Whiner, pointed to the equine creature. “I do my duty! But I am not serving under some Emperor-damned piece of xeno filth! Not now, not in the next life, not ever!” “Xenos are unholy abominations in the eyes of the God Emperor,” declared Whiner. Paradoxically, the presence of an alien seemed to have emboldened him, even though he was as unarmed as the rest. “No servant of the true Ruler of mankind would have men serve one. You must have…” his eyes went back and forth between the creature and the Stormtrooper. “Bewitched that man. Or laid eggs in his brain. Or… something!” Whiner snapped. The trooper in question actually laughed out loud at that. The xeno glared daggers at him, and his face quickly shifted back to its neutral expression. “So,” the equine said after a few moments’ pause. “What you two are saying is that you refuse to serve under me.” “You’re damn right!” snapped Ugly. “Never,” added Whiner. “Despite my authority as a duly appointed Acolyte of the God Emperor’s Holy Inquisition?” One of its hooves gestured to the symbol on its armor. “Xenos are an abomination. You may kill me, but I’ll never help you, foul alien!” Whiner snapped, his eyes darting between the xeno, trooper, and door as if calculating if he could make a break for it. “I wouldn’t serve no xeno if the bloody High Lords of Terra all got in my face and told me to!” Ugly growled. The creature put a hoof to its face and closed its oversized eyes. “I do not need this,” it muttered sourly. It opened them again and glared at the two malcontents, who glared right back, not daring to make a move with the armed Stormtrooper still looking on. “I do not have time for this.” “Well who gives a shit?” came Ugly’s reply. The xeno stared for a moment, as if making up its mind. “Very well,” it said, with a slight sigh. “Very well what?” demanded Whiner. “Very well, you won’t be a part of this. I accept that.” The two blinked and looked at each other. That was the last thing they had expected the alien to say. With more speed than even the fastest human draw Aisen had ever seen, the twin bolt pistols flew out of their holsters, enclosed by a purple light. They leveled themselves at Ugly and Whiner. “In accordance with Imperial Guard General Regulations, Section Three, Subsection Five, Paragraph Four, I hereby sentence you both to death for insubordination.”