//------------------------------//
// Homecoming 
// Story: Iron Hearts: Book 5 - Suffer Not the Alien to Live 
// by SFaccountant 
//------------------------------//

Iron Hearts: Book 5
Chapter 2
Homecoming


****


Ferrous Dominus - sector 20, Nightwatch


Midnight Blaze looked over the roster on the cogitator screen, frowning as she read off the names in her head.
"THIS is the Princess's security detail?" she asked, wrinkling her snout. "I feel like you could do better."
Dusk Blade raised an eyebrow while he looked over the weapons stacked up in the officer armory, weighing each option in his head.
"Well, of course I could. I didn't choose anypony on that list based on skill, I asked around and found out who wanted a last-second trip to Canterlot," he said, his eyes lingering on a double-barreled splinter rifle chased with silver.
"Are you serious?" Midnight growled, slamming a hoof against the input console and causing the screen to flicker. "This is the Princess's life you're guarding, here! How can you be so callous?!"
"Midnight, let's be real, here," Dusk said as he glanced at his fellow Lieutenant, "I understand that we have a duty, that we are expected to keep up appearances, and that there are perfectly good tactical reasons to have a squad of grunts hanging around extremely powerful ponies. But there's very little that Princess Luna couldn't handle but Princess Luna plus six batponies could. Never mind that Princess Twilight Sparkle is apparently coming along too. So you'll have to excuse me for not treating the selection like a matter of life and death."
The other batpony was still glaring, so Dusk continued. "Besides, nopony on that list is a screw-up; they're all solid guards. But our best thestrals are needed to hunt greenies tonight, not run escorts of formality."
Then he turned back to the armory. "What do you think is more dashing? The power sword or power lance?"
"You have hoofblades already," Midnight grumbled, allowing herself to be drawn onto a new topic, "take a ballistic harness."
"Nah. The melee weapons look more heroic, I think," Dusk bit onto a power sword's hilt, dragging it from the rack as his teeth sunk into it. The grip had been covered with a silicon padding, which made handling a weapon with one's mouth far easier and more effective.
Midnight Blaze fumed for a few seconds, then looked back over the roster in a contemplative silence.
"Hey, Dusk. Do you actually LIKE doing this?" she asked finally.
"What? Dressing up for bodyguard duty, or having to talk you into letting me do my job?" the batpony stallion replied before he sheathed the power blade over his back.
"I mean THIS," Midnight gestured to the tower around them with her hoof, "serving the apes like a bunch of attack hounds. Having to live in this industrial filth alongside insane cultists and the aliens that pretty much doomed us in the first place. You really just seem to take it all in stride, you know?"
Dusk brought a hoof to his chin. "I suppose I DO come off as less edgy and resentful than our peers," he said with mock seriousness, "but as for whether I like serving here, I suppose it depends on which part of it you mean. I'm VERY fond of having Chaos Space Marines on our side rather than killing us. That's just super. I also enjoy the prospect of MAYBE not being rendered extinct by green space savages. And to be honest, I'm kind of digging how we're not the creepiest and most dubious leg of our military establishment anymore." He paused to tilt his head to the side. "Other parts I don't like so much. Like the amazing weapons and armor, having artillery support in battle, or getting to hang out with the Elements of freaking Harmony in-between sorties." Then he paused again. "No, wait, my mistake. Those are pretty great too. What's YOUR problem?"
Midnight Blaze groaned before she slapped a hoof over her muzzle. "Princess Luna is just a tool to these apes, Dusk. All of us are."
"Including 'these apes' too, Midnight," the stallion retorted, "if you haven't noticed, human mercs all run missions just as dangerous as ours, and get the same lousy pay and disgusting food. That's EQUALITY, right there."
"I'd rather not be the equal of the sorry primates down below, if it's all the same to you," the mare jabbed a hoof briefly downward. Then she pursed her lips anxiously. "I'm being serious, Dusk. These people scare me. Celebrating killing as a religious rite? Worshiping DISEASE? Even their engineers insist that their machines are possessed or something! They're lunatics!"
"Okay, yeah, the cults are creepy. Fine," Dusk shrugged, "so what? You can't deny they get results, and nobody's asking YOU to join one. And logically, since they can provide observable evidence of their religious principles and gods' existence, it really falls to us to justify-"
"Oh, please, spare me your stupid lectures!" Midnight paused, giving a frustrated growl. Then she took a deep breath. "It wasn't supposed to be this way, Dusk. Us thestrals were finally being accepted into proper Equestrian society. Princess Luna was back, and the Night Court revitalized. It was supposed to be a new era for our people." She grit her teeth as she scowled. "Instead we get shipped out to this smoggy pit. Batpony recruitment has been THREE times that of other ponies."
"Well, to be fair, if Princess Celestia were the one playing superweapon instead of Princess Luna, I don't think there'd be any batponies here at all," Dusk reasoned.
"Exactly! They keep the Princess on their leash so that the rest of us have little choice but to follow! The Night Court was already weak when Princess Luna was its acting head, and now it's a complete shambles!" she groused. "And what's our term of service here? Until they're done with us! Every batpony that's been too badly injured to keep fighting gets thrown out like trash!"
Dusk Blade sighed as he walked by his colleague. "Is this about them shooting at us when we arrived? You need to get over that."
"It is about SO much more than that!" Midnight snapped, following him out. "But that certainly didn't help!"
The stallion halted in the hall, looking over his shoulder at the other Lieutenant. "Midnight, you can moan about what 'should have been' all night if you want, but it's pointless. THIS is our life now. And if we're lucky, it's our future too, because the alternative is for all of us to be stomped into the dirt by aliens." He tossed his head to the side, causing his dark blue mane to flip over his head. "So I, for one, plan to make the most of it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an escort to run. See you tomorrow night."
He didn't give her time for a response, trotting out toward the spire center.
Midnight Blaze fumed silently and turned away, heading back to her dwelling.


Although Nightwatch was built specifically for flying creatures that could access their quarters from the exterior, there were of course times that non-flyers had to access the tower. For that reason a large lift ran up through the core of the spire, all the way up to the level immediately beneath Princess Luna's room.
The pony Dusk Blade was meeting, strictly speaking, COULD fly, but she still preferred walking most of the time. He ran a hoof over his mane while
the elevator approached the top floor, and his lips stretched into a grin that revealed his extended canines.
The doors beeped, and then slid open.
"Oh! Hello," said Twilight Sparkle, slightly surprised to see somepony waiting for her. She had her power armor on, and the lavender alicorn quickly released the seals on her helmet to take it off.
"Princess Twilight Sparkle, it's an honor and a pleasure to see you again," Dusk Blade said with a dramatic bow.
Twilight paused after levitating her helmet off. She spent a moment studying the batpony's face, and then her expression darkened when she remembered him.
"Ah, right. Hello," she offered unenthusiastically, "I haven't seen you around recently. Did you ever look into those slave prices?"
"I did, actually! They don't have a minotaur, though. Not yet, anyway," Dusk admitted, "I don't believe I've ever introduced myself properly. I'm Lieutenant Dusk Blade, and I'll be heading your and Princess Luna's security detail."
Twilight frowned at the stallion. "Not 'yet'?" she asked, brushing off his introduction.
"Well, I have to assume that as the 38th Company gets settled in and starts treating the planet as their own, they'll eventually extend their dominion over the non-pony kingdoms and integrate their populations into a single, unified military-industrial hegemony," Dusk explained as he started moving further down the hall, guiding Twilight out of the elevator, "and along the way, well, some of the dissidents within each given population may become prisoners. So I figure there'll be minotaur slaves EVENTUALLY."
Twilight blinked before she followed after him. "That's... hmmm." She frowned and she looked down at the floor, her helmet absently falling into place on her gorget. "Well, putting aside our intention to resist the expansion of forced labor rather than participate in it, that actually sounds very likely. I've never really considered the long-term political ramifications of Chaos colonization."
"Ah, and then there's that little issue: colonization," Dusk Blade continued, stepping closer to the alicorn, "right now the 38th Company is entirely focused on the immediate challenges of planetary defense, but eventually they'll have to establish a proper civilian institution to support the military here, given that they're losing men constantly and have pretty much zero population growth. Imagine what that will be like!"
Twilight did, and her eyes widened. "Chaos CIVILIANS?"
"Oh, yes. I've asked about it. They usually take the form of huge industrial populations whose lives mostly revolve around the cults. It's actually really interesting to hear about how a more-or-less stable and sustainable society crops up around an evil religion rife with violence and insanity."
Twilight considered the prospect uneasily for several seconds before regarding the batpony again. "You've spent a lot of time thinking about this, haven't you?"
"Well, contemporary philosophy isn't my ONLY hobby," he said with a happy chuckle before he leaned toward the power-armored mare, "perhaps we can talk more about it in Canterlot. Say, over dinner?"
Twilight recoiled, taking a sudden step away. "I, uh, c-can't," she stuttered, her eyes suddenly looking everywhere but at the Lunar Lieutenant, "I'm having d-dinner with Princess Celestia and Luna."
"Not a problem! I'm nocturnal! My dinner is your breakfast!" Dusk Blade said, leaning in further.
Twilight took a step away, her face flushed. "I w-was actually planning to see my p-parents tomorrow, so for breakfast I'm kind of b-booked..."
"Okay, so how about a walk in Canterlot at night?" Dusk tried next, taking a step forward. "I hear they finished a statue of an Iron Warrior to add to Voidsong's base so that it looks like he's punching her in the gut. It'll be fun!"
Twilight's armor made a screeching noise as it scraped against the wall of the hallway, and Twilight realized that she had no more room to back away from the thestral smiling hopefully at her. She was also out of excuses. Taking a late-night stroll in Canterlot while discussing alien civil society and theology actually sounded really nice.
"Well... I suppose I could..." she said nervously, not noticing the elevator opening behind them.
"Master Blade! Master Blade!" shouted a voice from the spire center.
A rather haggard-looking human man in a tunic with a metal ring around his neck rushed up to them, carrying a pair of dataslates. "Oh, thank the stars, you haven't left yet, Master! You almost forgot the letters from Shadow Step and Gloom Fang!"
Dusk turned to glare at the man. "Those are important, you twit! Why'd you let me leave without them?" he quickly snatched them away in his jaws and then tucked them under his wing as the man gulped.
Twilight's eye twitched. "Who is this?"
Dusk glanced between the Princess and the human, thinking quickly. "He's my, uh... assistant! That's the word. Yeah."
Twilight's eye twitched again. "Then why does he have a shock collar on?"
"Because sometimes he doesn't assist me very well," Dusk hissed, causing the man to back away nervously.
"Did I do something wrong, Master?" asked the human, wringing his hands. "I'm very sorry! Please don't hurt me anymore!"
"... You're disgusting," Twilight said flatly. Then her horn flashed, and she teleported away.
Dusk Blade clicked his tongue, and then glared even harder at the human. "Nice timing, jerk. You are in for SUCH a beating when I get back."
"Please, Master! No more kicking!"
"YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO, MONKEY SLAVE! AWAY WITH YOU!"


****


Ferrous Dominus - sector 24 aerial platforms


Norris Delgan watched through the open access hatch of the thunderhawk gunship while the Princesses approached the landing platform, his hand gripping a ceiling rail. Rarity laid on the bench across from him, sipping on a steaming espresso as the man spoke.
"Believe me, Miss Rarity, I'm not one to begrudge individuals of status their dues, whether it be the profits of the merchant or the tithes of government," Delgan said, "but I hardly think the Lunar Guard's contributions to the war effort warranted a new tower designed for their exclusive residence. The thestrals haven't earned that kind of accommodation while the other soldiers are still packed into barracks and tenements."
Rarity chuckled. "Well, Princess Luna does have remarkable sway with the Warsmith. I hardly think the Dark Mechanicus would have given her so much as a pocket watch without his say-so."
"Remarkable isn't quite the right word," Delgan murmured, "I would say 'suspicious.' Warsmith Solon doesn't give such favor to Princess Sparkle, and he's known her longer."
"Why Norris," Rarity said with a smirk, "you sound like you're jealous!"
The Trademaster probably had a snarky response or dry protest to that accusation, but he fell silent when he judged the approaching Princesses and their escort to be nearing earshot.
"And here awaits our mighty chariot!" Luna shouted, appraising the thunderhawk from behind the crimson glow of her visor. "Quite a hideous and unwieldy beast, is it not?" Her pet possum Tiberius sat on her head, his tail wound around the horn casing on her helmet.
Twilight walked next to and just ahead of the other Princess, deliberately ignoring the six batponies that formed a half-circle behind them. "Well, I suppose you could go in your actual chariot, if you have it here, but the gunship will make much better time," Twilight reasoned, "I asked about the possibility of establishing a permanent magic gateway between Ferrous Dominus and Canterlot, but apparently it's too big a security risk for the Company."
Luna frowned after she reached the ramp and started heading up. She probably could have flown by herself to Canterlot at least as fast as the gunship, but that would have left both her Lunar Guards and Twilight in the dust. Nothing for it, then.
"Greetings, Trademaster!" Luna bellowed before she took a seat, causing Delgan to wince away from her. "It is good of thee to join us! Hast thou more business to conduct in our capital this evening?"
Delgan favored the dark alicorn with a thin smile while Twilight moved to sit next to Rarity. Tiberius leaned over to sniff at the commerce officer, and he carefully shifted out of paw's reach. "I always have business in Canterlot, Princess. There is much to be done once this world has been spared if it is to serve Chaos."
Twilight gave a brief shudder at that, promptly thinking back to her conversation with Dusk Blade. She resisted the urge to glance back at the Lunar Lieutenant, though. "Rarity, you're not wearing your armor?"
"Oh, dear no," the unicorn said with a grimace, "I'm thrilled to be able to leave it behind, for once. I'm rather surprised you two are wearing yours."
It was hard not to notice that the two alicorns were in full battle plate. In Luna's case the armor was all but unblemished, but Twilight hadn't even had time to have hers restored, and it still bore cracks and dents from the combat earlier that day.
"Well, I'm meeting with Princess Celestia and my parents while I'm there," Twilight said, taking off her helmet, "also, you know, if something happens I also have access to my vox system this way."
"Those both sound like reasons to leave it behind to me, but to each her own," the unicorn shrugged as the ramp closed and the engines started up.
Delgan watched the batpony guards arrange themselves around Luna. Despite the compartment being pressurized, none of them moved to remove their respirators or optics visors, and most of the glowing green sensors were locked onto the only non-equine of the group.
"So, Trademaster," Luna's helmet peeled away from her face as the craft lurched into the air under them, and Tiberius almost slipped off of her, "how shalt this world 'serve Chaos', in your words, once it is secure?"
"Besides providing a base for our raiding fleet, there are considerable caches of resources on your planet waiting for a force that knows how to extract them. I must be prepared to aid the Dark Mechanicus as it scours for ores and chemicals beyond those your people already harvest," Delgan explained, "but as ever, the possibility of such a venture depends on our success on the battlefield. And how fares the defense? My duties have kept me far from the front lines so far."
Luna eagerly took up the change of topic even as her expression soured.
"Although we smash each army swiftly after it lands, still many Orks survive and spread across the wilds. Before long We imagine they shalt displace the local bandits that plague Equestria's hinterlands." She clicked her tongue before she continued. "However, such brigands art little real threat. The Ork armies themselves hath been quickly broken each time they gather to oppose us. We personally take to the field to destroy the aliens' greatest weapons and slay their leaders, and thy 38th Company scatters the troops."
Twilight nodded slowly. "It's actually been going very well, but I'm getting worried. Every Ork army we've faced is smaller in absolute terms than the 38th Company itself, but that can't last with the kinds of numbers the Orks have at their disposal. If we don't finish the Nethalican soon, it's only a matter of time until a fraction of the Ork war fleet arrives that's simply too big for us to fight off."
"So what's the hold-up, exactly? Has anyone spoken to Serith?" Rarity asked.
Twilight made a face like she had just stepped in a pile of animal leavings.
"Darling, I know you loathe him personally, and I hardly feel any different, but the man is rather crucial to our survival."
Twilight sighed deeply, staring down at the floor. "Yes, I know. You're right. I've been avoiding him constantly ever since I actually joined the Company, and that's a petty reason not to be up-to-date on our plan to save the world." She grimaced before she looked up at Rarity again. "I guess I'm still a little surprised that he's going through with this. Even if this plan ultimately works out to the Iron Warriors' advantage, it just seems so unlike him to put this kind of effort into saving innocent lives."
"I guess it just goes to show," Dusk Blade interjected suddenly, "even if someone is a terrible person on the inside, they can still be a pretty cool guy on the outside!" He lifted his optics visor and winked at the purple Princess. "Eh? Eh?"
Twilight firmly pretended not to hear anything, but Rarity chuckled to herself. "Well, that's one way to put it, I suppose." Then she brightened. "Oh, right! Twilight, didn't you say you were going to speak to the Dark Mechanicus about joining as an apprentice to Gaela? How did that go?"
Twilight winced as Delgan promptly gave his full attention to the conversation.
"Really, now? And what brought that on, if you don't mind my asking?" the Trademaster inquired.
"Well, I've been studying the 38th Company and its technology basically every chance I get," the purple alicorn explained with a hint of bitterness in her voice, "but all of the most useful and interesting data are Mechanicus secrets, so I usually don't get very far. I asked Gaela, of course, but she would always tell me that the only way I was going to get to see the schema models and technologica essays was to join the Mechanicus myself."
"Personally, I thought she was being sarcastic," Rarity admitted.
Twilight harumphed. "She was."


****


Ferrous Dominus - sector 4 Dark Mechanicus Temple Secundus, four days ago


"... and that's why I want to begin a formal apprenticeship as a tech-adept under Dark Techpriest Gaela," Twilight said happily, standing before a trio of black-robed cyborgs. "I'm deployed to front-line combat duty fairly often, so I'd like to focus on armor and vehicle repair for practical purposes."
The three Dark Techpriests stared down at her silently.
"That's just to start out, though. Eventually I intend to join a research division once I feel I'm up to speed on a few key technologies," Twilight continued, "hopefully I can even design new civilian applications for your existing wargear! I'm especially intrigued by the possibilities offered by mono-directional gravity plating!"
The three Dark Techpriests stared down at her silently.
"Uh... I already have academic grounding in a wide variety of scientific fields, including magnetism, chemistry, alchemy, biology, thermodynamics, psykant harmonics, and, well, magic," Twilight chuckled awkwardly at the cyborgs standing around her, none of whom had made a sound or move since she had introduced herself.
"I know it generally isn't considered a science, but we try our best, you know!"
They still weren't saying anything.
"Um... I do admit I have to brush up on my astromancy. I really believed that stars revolved around their host planets until Gaela showed me evidence to the contrary. But in my defense, I was working with a sample size of a single system with extremely unusual qualities. And I'm willing to learn from my mistakes!" Still nothing. "I'm also aware that it's normally forbidden to induct non-humans into the Mechanicus. But given that the Dark Mechanicus favors the rejection of irrational restrictions and doctrines that limit your potential productivity, I thought there might be scope to work out an exception. I mean, you seem to have no problem working with the Tau engineers!" Twilight pointed a hoof somewhat desperately at Fennin, who was seated at a cogitator terminal nearby.
"Keep me out of this, horse," the Fio'el grumbled as he worked.
Twilight gulped while the Dark Techpriests kept staring at her silently. "So, uh... what do you say?"
The three cyborgs finally budged, turning toward each other and releasing bursts of chittering binary.
Then one of them held up a hand (or at least, a collection of mechadendrites and tapered rods that mostly served the function of hands).
"We have decided to proceed with your admission. However, there will be a test."
Twilight straightened up immediately and thumped one of her armored boots onto the floor. "Yes, Sir! What kind of test?"
"A logic test," the Dark Techpriest explained, "I am going to state a quandary to you, and you shall provide a satisfactory solution. Please stand in the designated testing zone." He pointed to a square on the floor painted over with warning chevrons.
Twilight eagerly jumped onto the square. This test sounded like it would be right up her alley. "Ready to begin, Dark Techpriest!"
"Quandary: Mechanicus doctrine regarding psykers demands that all such creatures be restricted from the cult Mechanicus, on account of their sorcerous abilities subverting critical physical laws relied upon by our technologies. A psyker requests membership in the Mechanicus. Response?"
Twilight wasn't expecting the question to hit so close to home, but she remained undaunted. "The rules restricting the contribution of psykers to the cult should be reviewed. Such broad bans represent an unnecessarily conservative approach that may ultimately hinder your progress and prevent new ideas and useful abilities from being explored. There must be some way to efficiently accommodate psykers while still maintaining safety standards."
The Dark Techpriest's optics pulsed. "Incorrect," he bleated, "the correct answer is: the red button."
Twilight frowned as another of the cultist engineers turned toward a wall console. "Red button? What red bu-"
She was interrupted when the other Techpriest pressed the aforementioned button. The front doors of the temple flew open, and then the floor plate conspicuously marked in yellow and black flipped up and launched Twilight outside. A surprised shriek came from the pony before it was silenced by a sudden impact with a parked APC.

Fennin blinked while the doors creaked closed. "... You actually installed a hydraulic springboard in the floor to eject people from the premises?"
"Affirmative," confirmed a Dark Techpriest, "we utilize it more frequently than you would anticipate."
"Huh. Working here might turn out to be more fun than I thought."


****


Canterlot Castle - (former) royal gardens, present day


The new guard armor was, it was widely decided, a vast improvement over the previous peytrals, barding, and helmets that made up the old guard equipment.
Flak armor was barely heavier than a winter jacket, easier to move around and fight in, and could be repaired with a small field kit rather than needing a blacksmith.
As Princess Celestia watched her soldiers line up at the edges of the makeshift landing area, however, she couldn't help but reflect upon how... drab and industrial the new equipment was. The soft, angled gray padding was a far cry in appearance from the gilded plating and bright crests that had been the trademark appearance of the Royal Guard for centuries. Likewise, the proud, tall spears and lances were absent from the procession; every guard had a lasgun securely harnessed to their foreleg, barrel pointed toward the ground. Short swords and combat knives were strapped to the foreleg opposite the lasguns, placed so that they could be bitten onto and drawn at a moment's notice. In a fortnight the proud majesty and ceremonial significance of the Equestrian soldiery had been scrubbed away by utilitarian efficiency and tactical supremacy.
Celestia hardly resented such things, even if she hated the prospect of buying weapons from the forces of Chaos. It was simply yet another stark reminder of how quickly and entirely her kingdom had changed, and the desperate straits that had brought such shifts about.
It was something that seemed especially poignant and significant while waiting for her sister to be dropped off at home via gunship transport.
"There it is," Kibitz said after a pegasus gestured down to him, "everypony, in position!"
The pegasi landed and shuffled into a line while the grounded guards stopped chatting amongst themselves.
Celestia looked up into the darkened sky as the sound of the gunship's engines became audible. She had seen to the descent of the sun already, but the moon didn't yet shine in the midsummer night sky. Granted, the moon's orbit had been somewhat... erratic of late, frequently speeding up to block out the sun and staying there for a few hours before moving on. Twilight had explained the eclipses to her, so she knew why they were happening, at least. Communication from Luna had been unfortunately rare.
"All right, get the orchestra in position!" Kibitz shouted as more ponies began arranging themselves to receive the Lunar Princess. These ones had instruments rather than weapons, and they quickly arranged themselves behind the royal soldiers.
"Kibitz, are you sure about this?" Celestia asked, watching the conductor take her position with a wooden pointer levitating in front of her.
"Trust me, Princess. You know how melodramatic your sister can be. And how confused she is by modern culture and context. She'll love it," the mustachioed stallion insisted.
The Thunderhawk's engines almost drowned out the stallion's reassurances before it swung down into a vertical landing, blowing waves of hot air over the waiting ponies.
The gunship landed, and Kibitz gave the signal to the orchestra conductor.
The thunderhawk released a hissing burst of steam, and as the access ramp opened, the orchestra began playing the Imperial March.


A great cloud of mist engulfed the embarkation ramp when it touched the ground, and the soldiers fidgeted as they spotted glowing green lights moving through the artificial fog.
Dark equine shapes emerged into view: batponies wearing jet black carapace armor and toting alien splinter rifles stepped down onto the scorched landing zone, scanning from side to side and twitching their blade-edged wings as if they were heading into a battlefield rather than their capital city. Each one of them still wore their respirators and optics masks, completely concealing their faces in dark rubber and glowing lights; only their manes and the personalized emblems on their armor pads stood to differentiate the ponies.
As the Lunar Guards spread out in a defensive formation, the mist was suddenly parted by an invisible wave of force.
Luna strode down the ramp, her helmet once again engaged and her horn sizzling with crimson power. As she descended, the moon finally made its appearance, rising over the mountains surrounding Canterlot and taking its rightful place of prominence in the night sky. Tiberius sat on her back, eyes narrowed and tiny arms crossed, looking for all the world like the reception was for him rather than his 'mount'.
It was quite a majestic sight, although most of the guards were too stunned by the image of her armored form to fully appreciate it. The unicorns in particular felt uncomfortable when they looked at the seething red eyes of the Iron Skull on her breastplate, and most of them quickly returned to staring forward blankly.
Twilight came down behind Luna, although her gait was more subdued and embarrassed by the ceremony. Delgan and Rarity followed behind her, keeping a respectful distance.
"Well, this is quite a reception," Rarity mumbled to the human, "a tad ostentatious even for MY tastes."
"I do prefer things a bit lower key," Delgan mumbled back, "although I like the music."


"Sister! We hast returned to thee!" Luna announced, stopping in front of the other alicorn and Kibitz. Her horn stopped glowing, and the helmet started to disengage and break apart.
"Luna, it's so good to see you again," Celestia said, hesitantly stepping forward to nuzzle the Dark Princess. She had to keep from gasping in relief when Luna returned the gesture without hesitation; they hadn't exactly set a warm and loving tone so far.
"Hello, Princess," Twilight greeted awkwardly, glancing over to the orchestra still in full swing, "that's an... interesting choice of music to greet us with."
"My idea," Kibitz said immediately, his mustache wiggling.
"We approve!" Luna declared, grinning as she walked by her sister. "We hast not heard this particular composition before! 'Tis most fitting!" Tiberius saluted the musicians.
"Told you," Kibitz whispered smugly to Celestia while the score was brought to a close. He turned toward the castle and headed back at a quick trot, leading them back inside.


****


Canterlot Castle - dining hall


"I must say, I'm still surprised by the ubiquity of this 'Centaur Pattern' power armor," Celestia said as she sat down on a silk cushion, "when I first saw Mister Macintosh with such an armament, I was surprised, but considering his other augmentations, it seemed reasonable. Yet all the Elements of Harmony now bear this sort of combat suit?"
Twilight's helmet was levitating above the table, and Celestia stared into the blood-red lenses of the visor while the castle servants carried out platters of food for the three alicorns.
"Yes, Princess. Originally Rainbow Dash managed to get hers by badgering Warsmith Solon into it, but eventually he gave us all customized wargear to aid in the combat effort," Twilight said as she levitated the force harmonizer up next to the helmet.
"Even Fluttershy?" Celestia asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes. Granted, hers specializes in non-lethal combat support and evasion, but even she's started joining us during our front-line assignments as of late," Twilight explained.
Celestia put the helmet down, glancing over at Luna. "I see. And your armor, Luna? It seems... different, somehow."
The dark blue alicorn took a few seconds to reply, as she was hungrily eyeing the platters being carried into the room. "Aye! This armor is an artifact of great complexity and arcane might!"
The Iron Gage - which Celestia had assumed until then to be some sort of exotic decoration for the shoulder pads - suddenly lifted off into the air. One of them darted under a levitating dish of onions baked in cheese, and the unicorn carrying it yelped and recoiled before the black gauntlet picked up the platter and carried it back to its mistress.
"Whereas the other suits art indeed marvels of the highest technology available to the human race," Luna began while the other gauntlet picked up an onion between its fingers, "this 'daemon armor' 'tis a combination of that technology and the darkest sorceries of Chaos."
Luna paused to let the Iron Gage flick the onion into her open mouth, and after swallowing the morsel her expression turned grim.
"We watched the procedure to create the suit. Saw the man whose soul hath been damned to fuel this machine for time indefinite. His flesh was ripped apart before us as his body was taken by a daemon, and then the daemon was in turn subdued and imprisoned within the core." One of the gauntlets tapped the grinning gold skull on her chest, and a crackling red spark flashed from the contact. "We were told the man was a criminal, even amongst the rogues of the 38th, but We did not understand his crime. 'Twas a horrid fate, to be certain, and one from which We doubt there is release."
Twilight and Celestia had fallen silent at her somber explanation, and even the serving ponies had slowed to a crawl while they overheard the grisly tale.
"Is it... safe?" Celestia asked anxiously. "For you, I mean?"
Luna looked up at the ceiling as the Iron Gage fed a sliver of onion to Tiberius, considering the question.
"'Tis difficult to say," she admitted. One of the gauntlets clenched into a fist and floated in front of Luna as she stared at it, "to be certain, We hast suffered no physical harm from wearing the daemon armor, whilst it hath prevented a great deal of it. But there art times that..."
Luna trailed off, and the last of the serving ponies quickly dropped off her food and excused herself.
"... The armor doth not speak to us," Luna said finally, setting the Iron Gage back to its "holstered" position on her shoulder pads, "it is intelligent, and passionate; We can feel it. It could communicate if it so wished. But it hides itself from our mind as best it can. Surely this is preferable to being tested and challenged by thine own wargear, but it leaves us uncertain as to the extent of its power and influence."
She paused again, thinking over what she was about to tell them. "... There art times, in the midst of battle, when We find the Iron Gage moving to crush a foe before We hast noticed that particular enemy. After dispatching the enemy, at times We find ourselves galloping away toward the next closest combat, unsure as to whether We hast been taken by the thrill of battle or carried against our will by the armor. And the visor hath a most unseemly habit during combat of initially targeting allied soldiers as enemies."
Twilight gulped. She'd happened upon Luna more than once during sorties while she was taking apart an Ork walker or blasting away a mob. It was quite chilling to know that for a brief, disastrous moment, she had been seen as one of Luna's targets.
Luna shook her head. "But We beg of thee: let us speak no more of such terrible things. Let us eat and talk of lighter subjects!"
Celestia nodded pleasantly. "Yes, of course. But..." she trailed off, looking at the other Princesses uncertainly. "Are you two going to wear your, uh, power armor during supper?"
Luna's horn flashed, and then her armor glowed blue and vanished.
Twilight's horn likewise started to glow, although it took a bit longer before her power armor also disappeared.
"Thank you again for reminding me about the dimensional wardrobe spell," Twilight said to Luna as she started serving herself, "it saves a lot of time compared to disassembling the suit normally and then storing the components. Rarity has been trying to figure the spell out too, but I don't know if she can manage it. It's a lot more complex than her usual magic."
"Is the armor comfortable?" Celestia asked while food started flying onto her plate on wisps of golden magic. "You two didn't seem in any hurry to take it off."
"Yes," Twilight said. Then she paused. "Well, mostly. The flight pack forces our wings to be spread constantly, even when grounded. So they do start to get cramped eventually. Besides that, though, the suit is quite unobtrusive." Then her ears fell flat. "That said, I guess I've gotten so used to being shot at and clubbed with axes at this point that I instinctively wear it as much as possible."
Celestia shook her head sadly as her fork floated up over her meal. "I'm so sorry, Twilight. As many times as I've asked for your aid in fighting evil and protecting Equestria, I never meant for anything like this to happen. I never intended for you to have to see real war."
"Don't be sorry, Princess," Twilight retorted, "we all did our best and made sacrifices to get this far. You, me, Luna, the other Elements, and a hundred unicorns that have to attend daily lessons with Serith groping around in their minds." She shuddered. "I'd rather fight the Orks on my own than have to deal with THAT."
"AH! At last! Worthy sustenance!" Luna suddenly shouted, causing the other two Princesses to start. The Lunar Princess had already finished her first plate and was heaping on seconds as Tiberius nibbled on a celery stick.
"... So I take it human food isn't so advanced as their other amenities?" Celestia asked as her younger sister wolfed down her second servings.
"Let's just say that ponykind has a lot more to contribute to humanity than any of the Iron Warriors would admit." Twilight giggled, and then began on her own meal.


****


Canterlot Castle - courtyard, one hour later


Luna hummed happily to herself as she cantered along the walkway, staring up at the stars that decorated the void above.
"Yet another comfort We hast missed since taking up our station in Ferrous Dominus," the Dark Princess mused, "the lights and pollution mask the stars from view at all times. We had suggested to the Dark Mechanicus that Nightwatch should be built to such height to rise above the smog and lumens, but they refused." She sighed happily. "Such a common and infinite beauty, so casually denied to us. It is tragic, in a way." Tiberius allowed himself to shed a melodramatic tear.
Celestia followed behind the smaller alicorn, likewise gazing at the stars. "Beautiful, yes. And yet, I can't help but wonder how many of those stars hold more alien threats. More creatures of such power and malevolence that a whole planet cannot contain their hunger for war and conquest."
Luna snorted, trying to contain a laugh, and then she turned around. "Why, Sister, thou speaks with such bleak tone on this joyous meeting! Surely our current predicament is dire enough without imagining additional trials ahead!"
Celestia couldn't help but smile at seeing Luna's grin, but she had to admit it confused her.
"Luna, are they treating you well?" Celestia asked, walking close to the other Princess. "Even when holding endless meetings with ministers and advisors deep within the castle, I feel it each time the moon banishes the sun from view. How many times have you been thrown between the humans and the Orks? How many more times will they risk my sister's life to spare their own soldiers and weapons?"
Luna tilted her head to the side, frowning. Tiberius scurried around at her hooves, chasing after the fireflies that swarmed around the courtyard.
"In truth, We feel We art not deployed often enough," Luna admitted blandly, "the humans fight daily, and my Lunar Guards spend night after night hunting stray greenskins, but We hast taken to the field a mere six times." She snorted before she once again stared up at the stars. "It would seem that Lord Sliver doth not wish his troops to rely on our power. General Gnoss has also confessed to us that he finds the Eclipse quite inconvenient for his gun lines, and prefers to keep us waiting in reserve if he believes he already holds tactical supremacy."
Celestia nodded slowly. "I see. That's far from comforting, but I'm relieved to hear they're not treating you as if you were expendable."
"Oh, not at all," Luna scoffed, smirking, "Father's favor sees to that. And it is good for other things as well, such as proper housing and wargear." She sighed. "It hath not been enough to acquire quality meals, however."
Celestia was silent for several seconds. "... Luna, could you... say that again?"
"What? That We cannot get good food in Ferrous Dominus?" Luna asked. "We think We've mentioned that often enough tonight."
"No. The part before that," Celestia mumbled, gesturing to the side with a hoof.
Luna blinked. "The Warsmith's favor ensures that We art not treated as cannon fodder. What of it?"
The white alicorn continued staring at her sibling for several more seconds. "... Okay. I thought you said... something else."
Then Celestia turned her gaze away. "In any case, I'm a bit surprised. Twilight seemed determined and content with her service to the 38th Company. But you seem... happy with it," she finally admitted, "this mood you're in... I've rarely seen you so satisfied when you were here with me."
Celestia had tried to make the comment sound merely inquisitive, but it was hard to hide the implications of that statement.
Luna, for her part, sat down on her haunches and cast a melancholy look at Canterlot Castle.
"... I suppose I am," the Moon Princess said softly, dropping out of her formal speech for the first time that night, "for all the terrors and hatred I've seen within the Company, for all the suffering and darkness ahead of us... for the first time in over a millennium, I feel like I am performing a crucial duty to Equestria. Serving our country and our citizens in an important manner that no other pony could, and is befitting of my power."
"Luna," Celestia said sadly, "you have ALWAYS been important."
"Important to thee, Sister, of that I've no doubt," Luna assured the taller alicorn, nuzzling her cheek, "but I am an alicorn Princess, an immortal royal, and for that title I have little accomplishment to show for it."
Celestia was about to reply, but Luna kept going. "Ever since my return, my contributions to the state hath been paltry," she grumbled, "the Night Court, which supposedly shares power with thine own offices and functionaries, is a shambles; slow, confused, and inexperienced, and lacking any petitioners of consequence to notice. Thine own student and the Elements of Harmony defend the kingdom whilst I sleep through the day, at times entirely unaware of the threat. The other leaders of Equestria's government mistrust me at best, fearing the Nightmare that once possessed me, and resent me at worst. The only worthy aid I hast provided since my return is to release thee from the burden of the moon's orbit, and that is a trial thou endured for one thousand years without my assistance."
Celestia's expression wilted. "Luna..."
"Make no mistake," the blue alicorn interrupted before she straightened, slipping back into her usual speech, "We art not envious or embittered, as in the past. We hast seen what ruin such sentiments may wreak. But We owe a debt to Equestria, and to thee, and We feel that at last We art making good on it."
Celestia sighed before she leaned against Luna, wrapping a wing over her withers. "You know you have nothing to prove, Luna. Not to me, or anypony. You've suffered enough for your mistakes."
"We think thee too sanguine, Sister," Luna said, tapping the white Princess on the nose, "but that is beside the point. We hast strength far beyond the typical pony with which to fight, and that strength may yet prove the difference between survival or annihilation. It doth indeed please us to aid the Company thusly."
Luna moved on from under Celestia's wing, and her horn glowed as she levitated Tiberius up onto her back again.
"Luna, please, be careful," Celestia said as she followed, "although your motivations may be pure, Chaos thinks nothing of such things. And Solon..."
She trailed off as Luna raised an eyebrow at her.
"The Warsmith is a strange and intriguing man," Luna mused before her sister could gather her thoughts, "We hast viewed his dreams and felt his strength, but We can only guess at the extent of his knowledge and power. Yet he is looked down on by his servants, mocked by those he commands." She shook her head. "He is whimsical and amoral, yet it is thanks to him that Equestria hath weathered these invasions thus far. We know not what sort of twisted flesh or chitin be within that shell of sullied metal and arcane clockwork, yet he lay his mind bare to us at request." Luna smiled at her sister. "Horror though he may be, Solon hath earned our respect, and We count him amongst our few true friends."
"I see," Celestia said wryly, walking alongside the smaller alicorn again, "so is the Warsmith another reason for your good mood?"
"Mayhaps. He hath been quite indulgent of us thus far," Luna said teasingly as she cantered forward, "but if We art to make excuses for our disposition, 'tis likely because We hast found ourselves a paramour."
The Lunar Princess glanced back at her sister, whose jaw was hanging slack at the sudden revelation. Yes, that was precisely the reaction she was hoping for.
As Tiberius blew the white Princess a raspberry, Luna launched herself into the air.
"Luna? Luna, wait! Who is it?" Celestia shouted before she unfolded her own wings. "Oh, you do NOT get to drop that on me and then fly away! Get back here!"
"Come and get us, Sister! If thou art up to the challenge!"


****


Canterlot City - Sparkle household


"It's so nice that you could find time to drop by, Twilight! I know how busy you've been since your ascension, and resisting two alien invasions must leave you very short on free time!"
Twilight flushed as her mother, Twilight Velvet, trotted about in the kitchen preparing breakfast. "Well, I realized that I haven't seen you guys in a while, even though I'd taken lots of trips into Canterlot. It's the least I could do."
"Of course. I'm very sorry you had to stay on the couch, though," the pearl-colored unicorn apologized.
Twilight looked over to where her and Shining Armor's rooms used to be. Both doors had been replaced by a solid wall, on account of the bedrooms on the other side being recently demolished.
"Oh, that's okay. I'm just glad the... what was it that fell onto the house, again?"
"Some sort of flying machine. Just dropped out of the air right on the edge of the building. Night Light had a TERRIBLE time trying to control the fire, and there were all those scary people in armor shooting from the windows."
"Right. Well, I'm just glad you're okay," Twilight said.
Night Light was levitating the force harmonizer over the dining room table, his eyes squinted while he looked over the device.
"So, you work as some kind of space pirate now, do you?" the stallion asked as the harmonizer slowly rotated in the air above him. "Something of an... extreme career shift after becoming an alicorn Princess, don't you think?"
Twilight chuckled weakly. "Well, at present my duties have hardly involved anything resembling piracy, of either the conventional or extra-planetary sort. It is entirely possible that I may have to leave with the fleet and become a space pirate eventually, but for now the focus is purely on defending our planet from the Orks."
Night Light frowned as the force harmonizer trembled. "Didn't you say this thing turned into a sword? How does it work?"
"Oh! It's specifically attuned to my psionic wavelength. Here, allow me!" Twilight chirped before her horn flared.
Night Light jerked back when a dark purple triangle of crystalline-looking energy coalesced on one side of the weapon.
"The blade generates an extremely high-frequency electron surge on contact that tends to destabilize and disintegrate matter on an atomic level, allowing it to cut through extremely high-density materials with minimal effort." The blade swung lazily from side to side, causing the unicorn stallion to duck lower into his chair.
"Twilight, dear, don't deploy your wargear at the table," Velvet admonished as she levitated an omelet into place in front of her daughter. The harmonizer stopped humming, the blade disengaged, and then Twilight lowered it down next to the other pieces of her power armor.
"So, what has it been like out in the field fighting aliens?" Night Light asked as he straightened himself. "Shining Armor usually writes us after he completes a mission, but he hasn't had to fight any Orks yet."
"Thank Celestia for that," Velvet grumbled, "I don't want to hear that my little Shiny is battling those green thugs without his own suit of space armor and an army of humans for support." She put down a second plate in front of Night Light.
Twilight swallowed a forkful of her food, and then put a hoof to her chin. "Well, the Orks are individually formidable as soldiers, but they lack the tactical coordination and perfected technologies that makes human and Tau armies so effective. They usually try to compensate with overwhelming numbers, but luckily there haven't been enough of them yet to really challenge the 38th Company." Twilight paused to take another bite of her food, but then grimaced. "I'm worried, though. We know what kind of numbers are coming for us, and we're running out of time. Also, the humans have no way to reinforce themselves. They can take in and arm ponies by the hundreds to try to compensate, but without training and experience they make a marginal difference in each sortie."
"Can't they just make more humans the way we make more ponies?" Night Light asked, arching an eyebrow as he reached out and hugged his wife to him. Twilight Velvet giggled, swatting her husband coyly with her tail.
Twilight chuckled awkwardly, trying to keep from visibly cringing. "That isn't really feasible in the time frame we're working with, Dad." Then she paused as she briefly thought over the topic. "Also, these humans seem to have... issues... with love. For all the time I've spent around them, I'm pretty sure I haven't seen any human couples or human young."
Twilight returned to her food, letting the matter drop while Velvet sat down with her own meal.
Unfortunately, her parents were not so merciful.
"So, speaking of love and breeding," Twilight Velvet said in a sing-song voice as her fork hovered over her breakfast.
Twilight Sparkle had to brace her forelegs against the table to avoid smashing her face into it. "Mom! No!"
"What? Surely my daughter, unparalleled in her mastery of LOVE and tolerance, must have spotted an eligible stallion or two in that spooky death factory!" Velvet said with raised eyebrows.
"There has to be. I've seen the numbers," Night Light added between bites of his omelet, "and don't be afraid to play the field a little, Twilight. You're a pirate now, so that takes a LOT of pressure and responsibility off your shoulders versus being a Princess."
"Mom! Dad! Seriously! I'm engaged in near-daily warfare to save our entire species and planet from certain doom! I have LESS time than before to contemplate a love life!" Twilight complained, flailing her forelegs in the air. "And besides! The only stallion I actually know in Ferrous Dominus is an awful pony!"
Then she hesitated. "Well, I suppose I know Big Macintosh, too, come to think of it. But-"
"Ironside, eh? I remember that one from the recruitment ceremony," Night Light mumbled, looking up at the ceiling, "not exactly 'Prince' material, but you could do worse."
Velvet's eyes narrowed as she touched the tips of her hooves together over the table. "So. How much of him, exactly, has been replaced with the metal parts?"
"...... Suddenly I remember why I hardly ever visit home," Twilight deadpanned as her eyebrow twitched.


****


Sweet Apple Acres


"So this's the new club house, eh? Swanky!" Braeburn chuckled as he finished climbing up into the CMC tree house, marveling at the interior.
Apple Bloom nodded proudly, sitting down in the middle of the room. "Uh-huh! The Darkmechs fixed it up a bit when they rebuilt the farm! And Ah think them new metal support beams are actually stronger'n the tree, seein' how the other trees nearby were knocked over when the ship crashed."
There were many interesting oddities stored in the club house of the Chaos Mark Champions, from old, marked-up lists of cutie mark ventures to strange, arcane script scrawled across one wall in red paint that was obviously supposed to look like blood.
What Braeburn found most interesting, though, was the large gun platform built into the far side of the club house, complete with a complex array of targeting systems and conspicuously empty ammunition hoppers.
"Yeah, we don't really use it for crusading anymore, but this place is still nice to have around," Scootaloo mused as she lounged in a corner, "it's also, like, the ONE place we can do Chaos cult stuff without everypony getting mad at us."
"Uh huh..." Braeburn walked up to the quad gun, looking at the machinery closely. "This thing work?"
"Naw," Apple Bloom said, an unmistakable note of disappointment in her voice.
Sweetie Belle went on to explain. "Big Macintosh took out all the shells and power thingies so that it doesn't shoot."
"Which is SUPER lame, because right after he did that the farm was attacked again," Scootaloo added, "we could have helped defend Sweet Apple Acres! Diamond Tiara did more to save this place than us!"
Braeburn snickered and patted Apple Bloom on the head. "Ah'm sure ya woulda taught them little space men what fer. But fer now ya should let the grown-ups handle the space varmints, ya'hear?"
"Tzeentch says that my magic would have been SUPER useful against the Tau attack if I'd had it back then," Sweetie Belle insisted.
Braeburn regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "Who said that?"
"Tzeentch."
"Who's that?"
"He's my new God! His dominion is over secrets, sorcery, and-" Sweetie Belle suddenly suffered a short coughing fit, during which she mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "deception".
Braeburn cocked his head to the side. "Now, hold on a tick. Yer tellin' me that this here 'God' talks to ya? Like, the way Ah'm talkin' to ya?"
"Oh, sure!" The young unicorn sat upright as she smiled proudly. "Tzeentch talks to me all the time! He has a lot to say, usually when I'm making some kind of important moral decision! He's like my conscience!"
That idea was quite unsettling for some reason, and Braeburn looked over at the other two fillies. "So what about you two? Do yer Gods talk to y'all?"
"Oh, sure they do!" Scootaloo said, now laying on her back and rolling back and forth over the floor. "They just don't ever have anything useful to say."
"That so? What kinda God is that, then?" Braeburn wondered aloud. He wasn't very spiritual himself, or have many ideas regarding theology, but he felt that anything that laid claim to Godhood should have some manner of wisdom to impart.
Scootaloo frowned. "Khorne is great! He's just, you know, not much of a communicator."
"Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, blood, kill, skulls, kill, kill, bloody blood blood, kill, kill, kill, kill, SKULL THRONE, kill!"
"Besides," the orange pegasus mumbled in a bored tone, "He's usually pretty clear about what He wants."
"Grandfather Nurgle don't talk much," Apple Bloom admitted with a tiny shrug, "Ah think He spends most of His timeless eternity nappin', like Granny Smith. He ain't much good fer advice even when He is awake, though. There's only so many problems ya can solve with diseases."
"Hey, Braeburn!" came a sudden shout from outside. "Git yer tail out here!"
The stallion perked up immediately, and then turned toward the entrance. "That was Cousin AJ; looks like she found some work fer me. You fillies have fun, now!"


While Braeburn climbed down from the club house, Applejack was waiting down below with her hoof tapping against the ground. The hoof was bare, for once, as she was not wearing her terminator armor, and Braeburn also noticed that it was splashed with blood. She looked quite displeased, but wasn't visibly injured, so he doubted the blood on her hoof was hers.
"What's wrong, Cuz?" the stallion asked as he dropped down, tilting back his heavily damaged hat.
"We got greenskins," the mare spat.
Braeburn blinked. "So y'all gotta take off again?"
"No, Ah mean we got greenskins HERE," Applejack growled. Then she whistled out of the side of her mouth.
Braeburn winced when Winona raced up to them, her tail wagging and a dirty green body hanging limply from her mouth.
"Ah heard a gunshot out next to the preservatory," Applejack said as Winona dropped the corpse of a Grot at their hooves, "this varmint SHOT at Winona! Ah saw another tryin' to sneak up on her, and he mighta done it if Ah hadn't flattened him first!"
Braeburn leaned in closer to the small, mangled body, noting the teeth marks and shattered limbs. "Well, shucks, Ah hope ya gave Winona a treat fer this. She walloped the varmint but good."
"Brae! Could ya try to take this seriously?" Applejack snapped.
"Okay, okay! When Ah'm workin' Ah'll take the lasgun with me," the Appleloosan said, "but really, Ah think Winona has a pretty good handle on the problem already."
The border collie barked happily and then started gnashing at the dead grot.
"Winona, stop that! That came from space!" Applejack chided. "It could have... Ah dunno, space diseases!" Then she glared back at Braeburn. "Ah ain't gonna start relying on little ol' Winona to control the alien pests 'round here! She could get hurt! These little varmints ain't scary, but they got guns and knives all the same!"
As she complained to her cousin, a sequence of very heavy footfalls came from behind them. Crabapple came up on the ponies with an Ork warbike clenched between its blood-stained adamantium teeth, and as the farmers watched, it stopped and dropped the vehicle next to them in imitation of its canine counterpart.
Applejack stared at the ruined bike for a few silent seconds, and then turned back to Braeburn. "Okay, fine, so Winona ain't exactly the only defense against vicious pests 'round here."
"Ah'll say. Does Crabby here do gophers, too?" the stallion asked.
"Braeburn, Ah'm worried," Applejack said with a grim tone, "these Orks are even worse than the Tau, and ya know darn well that Ah don't say that lightly. They're here to steal our food and dismantle our farm fer parts, and they'll kill us to do it if they can. Worse, it looks like they're startin' to spread all over the place, not just where they land and fight. There ain't been any Ork ships anywhere near Ponyville!"
Braeburn sighed and sat down on his haunches. "All right, all right. Let's think about this. Crabby, why doncha get back to helpin' Cousin Mac uproot the wasted trees?"
The Maulerfiend released a discordant crooning sound, and then swiftly turned around and walked back into the orchard.
"Now, obviously Crabby can handle the serious problems; ya can't get a much better guard animal than a fifty-ton, daemon-powered killin' machine," Braeburn mused, kicking at the grot corpse in front of him, "but what do we do about them little critters? Ah guess Ah could arm Fritter and Tart when they get down here and have 'em do patrols; ya did say ya still have a few spare lasguns, didn't ya?"
Applejack grimaced, although she seemed relieved that her cousin was taking this seriously. "We'll call that plan B. Ah don't really want any of mah relatives huntin' aliens 'less they got real combat gear."
"Well, that's gonna be a problem, Cuz," Braeburn drawled, "'cuz you and Mac and yer big, fancy guns ain't gonna be around all the time." Then he nodded toward the tree house. "How about Little Cuz? She got any Chaos mojo that can keep out trespassers?"
"Ah don't want no more Chaos hullabaloo 'round here!" Applejack retorted, stamping a hoof. "Evil magic wasps are worse than Tau AND Orks!"
"Well, Ah didn't mean THAT specifically."
"It don't matter! Far as Ah'm concerned, all evil Chaos magic is off-limits!"
"C'mon, Cuz, try to be open-minded. Ah mean, their evil Chaos guns're good enough fer ya, right?"


As the Apple cousins continued to (loudly) debate ideas for defending the farm, Big Macintosh approached the pair. He had left the task of tearing out trees to Crabapple again, and his augmetic rear leg was peppered with bits of wood and dirt from his own labor.
"What if we just got more dogs, then?" Braeburn asked. "Train 'em up to track down gretchin and kill 'em, like cats huntin' mice. Them little varmints smell awful, Ah'm sure they can be tracked."
Applejack chewed her lip anxiously. "Aw, shucks. Ah just don't know if Ah can do that to a dog on purpose. Sendin' 'em up against armed aliens? And what if they bring a full-sized Ork buddy with 'em, or some of them vicious little squig critters? We'd also need to find some right vicious breeds; most of the dogs 'round here are smaller and less aggressive than Winona."
"Oh! Ah know! Kroot Hounds!" Braeburn said with a grin.
Applejack's expression soured instantly. "Are ya crazy?! Ah ain't lettin' no Tau critters on mah farm to deal with the Ork critters!"
"No, no, that's the best part!" Braeburn said. "Ya don't even like 'em, so ya won't feel bad if they get hurt!"
As Applejack facehoofed, Big Macintosh suddenly piped up.
"Ah reckon Braeburn's onto somethin' actually."
"Are ya outta yer apple-pickin' mind?" the orange mare snapped, whirling around. "We ain't lettin' Kroot ANYTHING on our farm! Ah'd be more afraid of them than the Gretchin!"
"Not Kroot hounds," Big Mac said, turning to head toward the house, "but them greenskins are an alien problem. Ah reckon they need an alien solution. That's the way we handle 'em on the battlefield."
"So, what're ya sayin'? We hire human mercs or somethin'?" Applejack asked.
"Or somethin'," Big Mac answered, "lemme get to the vox system. Ah know a fella in the fleet who owes us a favor."


****


Sweet Apple Acres - the following day


"So these are the specimens, eh?" asked Geth.
"Ah don't know if ya'd call 'em 'specimens'. We ain't doin' no experiments 'cept in how best to kill the dang things," Applejack snorted.
The Scavurel Core was standing over a small pile of half a dozen Grots and a pair of Squigs that had been perforated with lasburns.
Several Scavurel Dregs stood behind the ponies and the squad leader, chattering in Binaric Cant while they reviewed the facilities.
Geth nodded. "Killing smaller 'pest' Orkoids is a challenge in efficiency and coverage, rather than stopping power. You face some unique problems in your situation. Your home is hardened against determined attack, but not from infiltration. And as I understand it, you hope to return to agricultural production soon; the greenskins will happily strip your flora bare if they can, even if they can't harm you or your dwelling."
"Well, how do we stop 'em?" Braeburn asked. "We don't gotta raise a pony militia to guard the place, do we?"
Geth made a noise that might have approximated a snort. "That is a crude and inefficient solution. Additionally, the poor proficiency of equine combatants may make them direct targets of scavenging efforts rather than a deterrent, in an attempt to recover their wargear."
"Poor proficiency? Who do ya think took down them red, toothy varmints?" Braeburn said indignantly. The stallion was going to poke Geth in the chest as he spoke, but given the way the blade-edged servo arms twitched when he raised his hoof, he thought better of it and settled for glaring.
"I assume it was you, of course," Geth replied, "if it had been Macintosh or Applejack, there would have been very little left to identify the creature." The Scavurel leader turned to his unit and released a series of bleating strings of Binary.
"It has been decided," Geth said after a few impressively short seconds of communication, turning directly toward Big Macintosh, "we shall construct several light laser turrets for perimeter defense within the orchard, encoded to a central cogitator in the central facility. One dozen should be adequate."
Applejack raised an eyebrow. "A dozen? Not that we don't appreciate you givin' us more hardware, but ya can't cover much ground with just a dozen guns if they don't move."
"Your tactical assessment is correct," Geth replied, "however, the visible presence of fixed weaponry will give an impression of much higher security and frighten the more intelligent greenskins to seek out easier targets, as well as providing sensor coverage to aid in removing further infestations. The less discreet organisms will almost certainly stumble within the defense perimeter of their own volition eventually."
Geth then glanced over at the orchard, his optics cycling in his mask. "... Additionally, I wish to speak of the particular stock of flora that this complex specializes in."
Applejack raised her other eyebrow. "Ya mean our apple trees? What about 'em?"
"They are inferior," Geth said bluntly.
Big Mac took the rather characteristic Dark Mechanicus tact with the same calm apathy he always did, but Applejack had to stop herself from dashing into the house and fetching her battle armor.
"Inferior?! To what?!" the orange pony roared furiously. "Ya think you humans can walk onto mah farm with yer nutrient slime and engine-solvent moonshine and tell me mah apples are bad?!"
"Whoa! Easy, Cuz!" Braeburn said, trying to step between the Core and the enraged mare.
"Inferiority is a relative judgment," Geth answered, "although we have updated your agricultural infrastructure considerably, you are still reliant on outdated processes and organic material."
"Whatcha mean, Geth?" Big Mac asked. Applejack was still growling, as if she was ready to leap upon the cyborg for daring to criticize her favored crop.
"Human agri-facilities use gene-smithed crop flora to increase food production efficiency. These organisms consume less resources, produce more edible products, and are less susceptible to environmental conditions and cycles," Geth explained.
Applejack snorted. "Like you humans know anythin' 'bout farmin'. To you the ground is just somethin' holdin' all yer precious metals."
"That is not inaccurate," Geth said ambivalently, "and certainly there is little of the Dark Mechanicus devoted to agriculture. We do, however, practice gene-smithing."
Big Mac tilted his head to the side. "So yer sayin' you want to give us some kinda high-tech apple trees?"
Geth nodded calmly. "Affirmative. I do not consider the expense and installation of the laser turrets sufficient payment for my life and that of my peers. Were I to update your overall operational capacity, I would feel that my debt to you has been sufficiently repaid, Macintosh."
Macintosh nodded slowly, and glanced over at Applejack.
She didn't look especially pleased, although she no longer looked mad about the Scavurel's earlier "insult".
"Ah don't know 'bout that. Takin' in alien crops that we don't know nothin' about could cause problems. 'Sides, can't ya just triple the number of turrets or somethin' and call it square?"
"Negative," Geth said decisively, "the deployment of additional weaponry will likely provide little to no additional benefit. It is thus inefficient and unsatisfactory."
"Of course. Celestia forbid ya'll do anythin' 'inefficient'," Applejack deadpanned, rubbing her head with a hoof.
"Why don't we put a small plot of 'em right in the crater?" Braeburn suggested. "If they're so hardy then we won't have to fix up the land there, and it'll save us a lot of trouble to clean up the impact site. They'll fit in nice with the shipwreck, too." He chuckled.
Applejack deliberated silently for a few seconds, and then snorted. "Well, if Mac says okay, then Ah ain't gonna complain. If yer givin' em out fer free, then there's no real risk. We can always uproot 'em and replace 'em with normal trees if things don't work out."
"In theory, yes," Geth agreed.
The ponies waited for him to explain that qualification. He did not.
"Then it seems we have reached an agreement," the cyborg said, his tone shifting slightly in a way that may or may not have indicated happiness, "my peers will begin installation of the security network immediately. I will return to Ferrous Dominus with a sample of your primary apple breed so that modification and testing can begin."
"Well, there ya go! Problem solved!" laughed Braeburn, swinging a foreleg up over Applejack's withers. "Before ya know it, Sweet Apple Acres will be up and running better'n ever!"


****


Ferrous Dominus - sector 4 Dark Mechanicus temple tertius, four hours later


+Techpriest Yaegen, I have returned from my errand and have a request for you.+
Geth crouched on one knee as he spoke, his servo arms curled inward as a show of submission to the dark-robed figure in front of him.
+"Errand", you call it? More dalliance with those mutant equines,+ blurted the Dark Techpriest, +although I can understand the Warsmith's fascination with their psykers and the Trademaster's fascination with their currency, I would expect more rational behavior from the Dark Mechanicus. What does our order have to gain from associating with these useless aliens?+
+If nothing else, such associations can be useful by sheer coincidence,+ Geth replied, +it is through our association with the equines that we have come to control engineers and scientists of the Tau Empire. This is a feat that no other Mechanicus faction can seriously contemplate.+
The Scavurel raised his head, his optics arrays glittering. +We have enemies enough, and we gain nothing from harming the ponies as we have done to so many other xenos species.+
+I would rather waste time exterminating useless wastes of flesh than waste time arming them. But enough of this idle banter. You said you have a request.+
+Affirmative.+ Geth stood up. +You have been searching for an experimental case to test your gene-graft of Tyranid spore towers, have you not?+
Yaegen regarded the soldier with a sidelong glance. +Affirmative. There is not enough space within the Harvest of Steel to establish a suitable environment. In theory I could use this world now that it serves as a long-term base, but I will be unable to stay planetside to maintain and observe the specimens once the fleet resumes normal operations.+
+Another happy coincidence, then,+ Geth said, holding up an apple in his metal-clad hand.


****


???


Solon watched shifting rivers of emerald-green code wash underneath him while he waited in the boot-up segment of his dreamscape, wondering what environs he would be setting up tonight for the equines who were likely already on their way.
It wasn't every night that he stopped working for a rest cycle, nor was it every night that Luna had nothing better to do than bring the Elements of Harmony through the fabric between worlds for what they generously described as "training". Still, they managed it often enough that his peaceful, productive, and lonely nights had become the exception rather than the rule.
The ponies weren't fooling him with their insistence that the simulations were for training purposes. With the exception of Fluttershy (who didn't even show up most nights), the ponies kept track of their "scores" obsessively, frequently dueled each other, and sometimes came up with strange, arbitrary objectives for their combats that bore no resemblance to realistic missions. He couldn't think of a single time he'd had a small group of warriors sprint into enemy territory, capture a small object - a flag, in this case - and then rush out while the enemy tried to gun them down.
Still, they DID spend the entire dream sequence fighting and using their wargear, so the simulations should have some training value. Besides that, he was interested enough in the way Luna's unique magic interacted with his rest cycle programs to swallow his dignity and observe his equine soldiers rather than try to get rid of them.
Not that they afforded him much dignity to preserve.
Solon sensed something materializing behind him, and he opened up a menu of planetary systems. "You're here. Very well, then, let's get started. Any terrain preference tonight?"
"We were hoping thou may provide something special for us, Warsmith," Luna replied, "We hast brought with us a rather unique guest to partake of thy visions."
Solon glanced behind him.
Standing behind Luna was Princess Celestia.
The Princess of the Sun wore her usual regalia and had every scrap of her usual psionic might available to her in her dream-state. And yet the larger alicorn flinched back when he met her eyes, glancing about nervously at the strange surroundings of a simulation boot field. She was obviously frightened to be here, and Solon had to wonder what reassurances and platitudes Luna had showered her sister with to convince the white Princess to venture into the mind of a Chaos Lord.
"I see. So, did you bring her here to be savagely and repeatedly murdered by Orks, or did you intend to fight her yourself?" asked the Iron Warrior.
Celestia recoiled, her eyes wide, but Luna giggled.
"Sister, calm thyself. We told thee that thou cannot suffer any true harm here, and We meant it," the dark alicorn said with a smirk.
"And I believe you completely, Luna," Celestia said, her eyes narrowing at Solon' wire-construct form, "but that doesn't mean I should have to spend the night being humiliated for the amusement of this..." She trailed off, considering her words before taking a deep breath. "For the amusement of the Warsmith."
"Oh, no, of course not. Why should I ever get what I want?" the Chaos Lord deadpanned. "But if you're not here to do battle, why are you here?"
Celestia looked at Luna. Luna nodded happily, nudging her head toward the Iron Warrior.
The Princess of the Sun seemed to gather herself, lifting her head up higher to address Solon. "Luna has suggested that my... lingering distaste and anxiousness regarding our... alliance..." she had to pause several times during her speech to stop and correct her wording in her head. "... May be because every time I've dealt with your people it has been under... exceptionally unpleasant or dangerous circumstances. She points out, not without reason, that I've made no effort to learn about you... much less understand you."
She glanced away briefly before continuing, finding it difficult to retain eye contact with the bizarre green wire-form. "I am not interested in understanding Chaos; it is a terrible, hateful, malevolent force that has no place among my little ponies. But... perhaps Chaos is not all there is to you. You could have come to our lands to destroy and plunder them, but you've always treated my people with... well... contempt, apathy, and occasionally mild fascination. It's not the best basis for friendship, but it's not murder." She paused to wet her lips. "Your restraint isn't due to reasons of benevolence or mercy, but it might be time I learned what those reasons are."
Solon snorted. "I don't see why you waste my time with such rubbish. Talk to Twilight Sparkle. She has invested much time and energy into these topics." He turned his head as Celestia released a frustrated sigh. "Cogitator assidium three-seven-"
"Wait!" Luna shouted, quickly darting in front of Solon. "Warsmith, hold. Please, We beg thy patience."
"You have received more of my patience than a great many of my peers and underlings, Princess," Solon noted, "but just as Princess Celestia does not wish to wander the mind of her enemy, I do not wish to suffer her presence and judgment. Why should I have to make excuses to her?"
Luna shook her head. "We expect no 'excuses', Warsmith. Thou need not justify thyself to us." She looked up into the hollow spots of light that made up the eyes of the Iron Warrior's current form. "We ask of thee only a vision, as We hast seen. So that Sister may yet witness some measure of the creature that lay beyond the Mark of Chaos thou bears."
The Chaos Lord fought a silent battle of wills with the sad, pleading expression on Luna's face, and in the end he was found wanting.
"Oh, fine," the Chaos Lord huffed, "I suppose it doesn't cost me anything but more time." He turned around and started opening up new menu screens. "But do ensure your sister behaves herself. She is not in her palace any longer, and I will not tolerate her usual attitude."
"Technically speaking, I AM still in my-" Celestia was cut off as Luna's magic forced her muzzle shut, and she wilted when her younger sister glared at her.
It was actually quite galling for Celestia to consider that a blatantly evil, corrupt scion of Chaos considered HER tactless and hostile, but even she could admit that she had never treated the Iron Warriors with the dignity and grace she reserved for most petitioners and diplomats.
"You wish to know the Iron Warriors? You wish to know of our trials, our grievances, and our crimes?" Solon spoke while he navigated the menus controlling his dream environment. "You can hardly grasp such things in a single night, even with all the lore in the galaxy at your disposal. But if I were to choose a single incident - a key engagement - that best demonstrates our character and history, there is really only one choice."
Solon finished his selection, and his body started to darken and fill itself from a wire-frame form to a creature of flesh (or, at least, illusory dream-flesh). The ground started to materialize around them as well, with reams of bare code shifting into stone and metal and then stretching into shapes at remarkable speed.
"We go to Terra, ponies."


Celestia and Luna craned their necks as they took in their new surroundings, staring up at the massive edifices and weapons that lay next to them. Luna, accustomed as she was to the grand and oversized constructs of the Mechanicus, was no less amazed for her experience. On one side of them towered a wall that stretched into the sky and bristled with cannons and reinforced fire points. The entire face of the battered fortification was ablaze with cannon shots and the flash of muzzle flares, scything across the ground below with desperate fury.
The walls of Ferrous Dominus were impressive to the point of excess; Luna could not imagine any sort of weapon or power to warrant such vast defenses, although the Iron Warriors assured her that such weapons existed. The walls above them, however, seemed unreal in their sheer scale. That such quantity of power and material should be confined to a single spot, immobile, just seemed absurd on the face of it.
And yet, judging by the explosions that peppered the bastion, there was an even greater absurdity afoot: apparently some force actually sought to challenge this bulwark.
Luna and Celestia turned around, and the latter gasped.
A veritable ocean of power armor stretched out opposite the wall, interspersed with great numbers of heavy combat vehicles and dark banners proclaiming allegiance to fell powers. Enormous strips of white, ivory, silver, gray, and purple made up the armies, and these were merely the Marines that were immediately visible to them through the plumes of smoke and ash. There were more Chaos Space Marines here, within view, than either Luna or Celestia could have guessed had even existed, and this was but one side in the titanic battle they had been called to witness.
Luna finished gaping at the image, and her horn glowed in preparation to summon her armor. "Art we to take to battle here?"
"No," Solon said simply, walking toward the wall, "for this vision we are incorporeal, for now. We are visitors here, not participants. Follow me and observe, Princesses."
Celestia turned to follow the Warsmith, noting that the Chaos Lord was in the form of an ordinary Iron Warrior with two servo arms attached to his backpack. With neither the corrupted bulk of his modern form nor the somewhat annoying slur to his voice, he seemed like a completely different person.
Not necessarily a better person, though, she reminded herself.
"Behold, the wall of the Imperial Palace," Solon said, raising a hand to gesture to the vast edifice above as he walked into the blasted trenches, "designed by Rogal Dorn himself, the finest defensive architect known to humanity, and constructed by the Imperium's most accomplished and brilliant engineer clergy. When the Warmaster assaulted the Sol system, he brought power enough to shatter the defensive fleets and all the orbital defenses. The bombardment from his ships unsettled the tectonic plates of this world, changing the face of Terra forever. Still, the walls held. No amount of crude, brute force could overcome this obstacle and grant access to the prize within: the Emperor of Mankind, whom the Warmaster sought to overthrow."
Solon walked into a trench filled with flame, but the heat didn't seem to bother him or burn his armor. The alicorns paused for only a moment before following, likewise feeling nothing from the roaring fire.
"So the Warmaster did what he, like the Emperor before him, always did when faced with an impossible bulwark: he told the Iron Warriors to break it."
Solon stepped up out of the trench, and then waited for his pony companions to join him.
"And we did." He pointed to the wall.
Luna and Celestia weren't exactly sure what happened next. Their senses were suddenly overwhelmed by explosions, all happening in rapid and constant sequence at a desperately unsafe proximity. Had they been corporeal, their bodies would have been utterly pulverized by the blasts and atomized by the heat, but as it was they could only stop and wait for the deafening roar to die down and the overwhelming light to fade. Seconds stretched into minutes as the barrage continued, drowning the equines in flame and force.
Then Solon continued speaking, his voice somehow reaching their ears despite the noise.
"It should have been our finest hour, a victory equal to that of any of our brothers' most hallowed triumphs. We had crushed the single greatest fortification this galaxy has ever seen, and directly humbled Dorn's Imperial Fists by besting their skill at fortification with our skill at siegecraft. We had removed the final great bastion holding back the Warmaster, all but handing him his prize. We had vindicated every dubious decision we had made, and redeemed our Legion in blood and fire."
The explosions finally seemed to recede, but the sensory assault continued. Enormous segments of reinforced ferrocrete and metal plating were raining down all around them, and the flames had given way to smoke. Still, the alicorns could do little but wait as the minutes pressed on and destruction continued boiling around them.
"But it was not a victory. Like so many of our other 'successes', the Siege of Terra soured, and our triumph turned to ashes before us. The Warmaster failed. The other Primarchs left out of fear or boredom. The Chaos Gods faltered and their power waned. The traitors that had so eagerly aided the Warmaster balked at the prospect of fighting on without him. And before we knew it we too were taking to the Warp, fleeing a planet on its knees and hounded by the Imperium's broken armies."
The dust parted before the equines, and Solon beckoned to them as he stood in front of the gaping hole in the Imperial Palace.
"Come. Let me give you the tour."


More Space Marines.
They were everywhere behind the walls, rushing to and fro while carrying wounded and supplies. Humans roamed the halls in great numbers as well, but the smaller sapiens moved cautiously and fearfully as the metal-clad giants sprinted past, as if they were afraid of being trampled.
Celestia saw four main color schemes on display amongst the loyalists: red, white, and yellow, with another faction who wore far more intricate power armor colored in brilliant gold and etched over with script. The loyalist power armor boasted richly colored crests, scrolls of flowing script, and bright red seals of wax and parchment. It was a stark contrast to the chains, spikes, and morbid trophies that now embellished the modern Iron Warriors.
Even Solon's current power armor suit, largely untouched by Chaos and decorated sparingly, seemed a crude, dirty thing compared to the defenders'. The caution stripes on the leg, the grimy stains of machine oil, and the dust and wear of heavy use made the Warsmith a bizarre and ugly sight indeed while walking through the corridors of his oblivious enemies.
"You were like them, once?" Celestia asked, speeding up to walk alongside the Iron Warrior. "Your body was as we see it now? Not..." she trailed off, trying to think of a way to describe Solon's present-day body without being egregiously offensive.
"I was once like them, yes. Both in body, and mind," Solon replied while he trudged through the halls, "there was a time when I too bent knee to our Emperor, and would have gladly given my life to defend his home."
"And Chaos changed that," Celestia mumbled, watching a pair of yellow dreadnoughts stomping off toward the breach.
Solon turned his head to look down at her. "No, it did not. Some other Legions were taken by the darker powers before their rebellion, and they discarded their oaths along with their sanity. The fools and imbeciles that made up the Emperor's Children fell to depravity long before they contemplated betrayal, and there's no telling how long the savages of the World Eaters were truly in thrall to Khorne. But the Iron Warriors were better than that. We did not turn against the Imperium for the sake of voices in our head. We did not listen to the honeyed lies of Erebus or the rest of the fanatical Word Bearers. We CHOSE our rebellion. Our grievances were more severe, and our goals more noble. Perturabo, our Primarch, wanted to unseat the Emperor and preserve the Imperium. To create a galaxy where we, his sons, could prosper and receive our due for our sacrifices."
"We presume it did not work out as such," Luna drawled as she caught up on the Warsmith's other side.
"No, it did not," Solon said curtly, "we won victory after victory. We slaughtered the Loyalist defenders everywhere we saw them and broke their mightiest fortifications again and again. Istvaan. Phall. Terra. Sebastus. Every battle a crushing success. We did everything asked of us and more. And still, we saw our goals and hopes crumble before us, consumed in the darkness that now sustains us: Chaos."
Celestia frowned up at him. "You recognize the harm it's done to you, and yet you still serve under its power?"
"Such is the way of the Iron Warriors," Solon snorted, "we serve our masters even as they grind us down to nothing and discard us like so much trash. First the Emperor, then the Warmaster, then the Dark Gods." A brief chuckle echoed through the Warsmith's helmet. "And now Princess Luna."
The dark alicorn started in surprise. "Pardon? Last We were aware, We served under thy command, not the reverse!"
"Then how come you never build anything for me?" Solon replied. Celestia was genuinely surprised to hear a hint of mirth in his voice.
Luna puffed up her cheeks as she glared up at the Chaos Lord. "We art no artisan! We hast destroyed many foes and brought thee prisoners of value! That is our contribution to thee!"
"Much obliged, Princess, but really, do you have any idea how much fuss Kaelith made when Gaela asked him to construct Nightwatch? If I hadn't intervened then she might have found her recent promotion revoked."
"'Tis hardly our fault that thy underlings hold us in contempt! Besides, our previous quarters were barely fit for our possum!"
Celestia watched in utter fascination while her sister bickered with the hulking Space Marine. Their arguing was more akin to that of relatives than subordinate and commander, without even taking into account that one of them was an evil alien overlord and super-scientist. The fact that they were also strolling through the hall as explosions shook the palace exterior and swarms of soldiers ran back and forth barely managed to make the scene more surreal.
"Where are you?" Celestia asked suddenly, interrupting them.
"Hm?" Solon turned his head again to regard the larger alicorn.
"You were here, right? On Terra, during this big, important battle. You obviously weren't walking through the palace like this. Where are you now?"
Solon grunted, facing forward again. "I had already taken command of the Primarch's 38th Company at this time. I was in the rear, guarding our supply lines." He sighed behind his helmet. "Thanks to that, the Iron Warriors suffered much less disruption to our supply lines than the other Legions. Though I had a rather disastrous run-in with a White Scars Chaplain that earned my first augmetic limb." He shook his head. "It's a feeble encounter to reflect on during the greatest and most important battle of our species."
The white Princess frowned, but said nothing more.
"Ah. Here we are." Solon gestured to a set of massive blast doors guarded by an entire hall of gold-armored Custodes and yellow-plated Imperial Fists. He picked up his pace, and the Princesses were forced to follow in a near-gallop through the fortress.
Celestia gulped nervously as she stared at the countless glaring visors watching the hallway. She knew that she was utterly invisible to them, and that she was anyway dreaming, but even so the sight of the quietly seething sentinels sent chills down her spine. What went through their heads, she wondered, as the Iron Warriors ripped open their fortress and the horrors of Chaos poured into it? What cruelties had they been subjected to as the siege wore on? What miseries did they labor under as their failures and casualties kept piling up higher and higher? She had come here to witness the history of Solon's Legion in particular, but there was so much more at stake, so many more lives in turmoil during this occasion. So much hatred, fear, and hubris, all coming to a disastrous conclusion, and the air was practically electrified from the sheer tension.
"Here," Solon said, approaching the super-heavy blast doors and the terminator-armored Blood Angels that stood in front of it.
With a wave of his hand, the red Space Marines disintegrated, vanishing into mist. The door was blasted open in an instant, the metal folding and tearing away like so much paper.
The dream actors around them started to react, but then Solon spoke.
"Pause simulation."
With those two words, everyone in the hall and the room beyond froze. The Warsmith walked in, and the curious ponies followed behind him.


"And here he is, Princesses. The single most powerful human the galaxy has ever seen, and ever will. The Emperor of Mankind."
A large figure in golden armor was looking up toward the breached doors, his eyebrows creased in mild concern while he stood over a hololith of the palace region.
"A psyker possessed of power that exceeds even your own, a technological genius, and a leader beloved of trillions." Solon laughed bitterly. "This is, of course, merely a cogitator engram. A pale, pitiful imitation of the real thing. But does he not still impress?"
Celestia certainly thought so, but decided to keep her opinions to herself as she looked up at the imposing figure. He seemed so powerful and assured, even frozen mid-pose in the dream world of one of his hated enemies. But at the same time... tired. Worried. Crushed, even. A hundred emotions danced within those softly glowing eyes, testament to the unimaginable loss he had seen so far.
There were others in the room too, including a pair of enormous Space Marines frozen in combat poses with weapons drawn. But the man in gold easily dominated the scene, such as to render the two warriors nearly insignificant.
"It was not Chaos that turned us against our people, no. It was this man who made us, figuratively and literally, into the monsters that have settled your hapless world." Solon walked past the Emperor and behind him, his fingers flexing as if yearning to hold a weapon. "You think the Tau cruel for sacrificing your people? In this man's name have we launched thousands of crusades of xenocide, cleansing the stars of aliens to make room for human colonists. You think your kingdom united and devout? Under this man's rule have numberless star systems submitted and paid tithe, separated as they are by distances that challenge our grandest technologies." Solon finished circling around the Emperor, leaning over the hololith table and planting his palms on the table surface. "Because of this man has an empire risen to reach from one end of this galaxy to the other, and because of this man do we tear it down, piece by piece. Humanity's greatest tyrant, and greatest hope." He pointed to the man in golden armor. "Say hello to the ponies, Emperor."
The Emperor had his movement and consciousness restored, and he promptly stood up straight, gazing hard at the Iron Warrior. He almost certainly noticed Celestia and Luna as well - they had all apparently turned corporeal recently - but his eyes were locked on the bar of blood red set in Solon's helmet.
"They wish to learn about us, Emperor," Solon said, his voice an angry snarl, "I have shown them the brutality and power of our rebellion. I've laid bare my Legion's triumphs and failures. Have you anything to add? Anything to provide some context to TEN THOUSAND YEARS of war and hate? Can you explain to me, Emperor, how my Legion has come so far, done so much, become so mighty, and yet accomplished so little? Don't hesitate, Lord! We eagerly await your wisdom!" he jeered.
The Emperor looked around the room, at his attendants and friends frozen in expressions of shock and anger, and his Primarchs, Rogal Dorn and Sanguinius, ready to smite the invading foe.
His eyes, the depthless beacons of light and power, settled back on Solon's visor.
"You're wrong," he said.
Celestia was guessing now that this dream-tour hadn't been rehearsed, because Solon's voice was a hoarse croak when he replied through his vox grille, thick with surging emotion.
"What did you say?"
"You're wrong," the Emperor repeated, "your revolution, your bitterness, your long war, it's all wrong." He spoke calmly, as if he wasn't talking to a sworn enemy that had burst into his meeting room and seemed to have total control over time and space. "You were wrong to seek glory rather than doing your duties to the Imperium. You were wrong to raise your hand against me. You were wrong to submit yourselves to Chaos." His gaze was unflinching, but it contained glints of sorrow and regret that his words could not convey alone.
Solon's body shook with fury as he gripped the edge of the strategium table, but the Emperor wasn't finished.
"You will continue to fight, you will continue to kill, and you will continue to sacrifice. You may win your battles. You may slaughter your enemies and satisfy your gods. But your suffering will not end, your goals will forever lay out of reach, and you will never be redeemed." The Emperor leaned across the hololith table. "Because no matter how hard you fight, and no matter how many wars you win, you're still WRONG."
"... Warsmith?" Luna asked uncertainly, stepping closer to the Iron Warrior.
Solon pushed himself away from the table. "And there you have it, Princesses. The heart and soul of the Iron Warriors Legion, explained," he growled. "Cogitator assidium three-seven-zero. Terminate rest cycle."


****


Centaur star system


Great flashes of light poured from the Warp as the first moments of realspace translation began. Huge, ugly gashes of green were carved haphazardly into space, and from these wounds leaked the next of set of reavers come to plunder the system. One after another, the ramshackle void ships of the Orks spilled into the material universe and fell into a clumsy fleet formation, their guns tracking wildly for any sign of enemies.
Eventually the vessels stopped coming, and as the last of the Warp-space breaches closed, a full twenty Ork ships set about the task of finding battle.


As these newcomers began their journey to the source of the beacon that had called them, a certain Ork Mek looked at the scopes on his ship sensors and smiled broadly.
"Yeah. Dat'll be enuff boyz," Hazarr Wrencha chuckled. "Warm up da enjuhns, yous gits! We'ze headin' back to da planet! WAAAAAGH!!"