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

Iron Hearts: Book 5
Chapter 9
Eye of the Storm


****


Outskirts of Detrot - 15 days after Nethalican activation


The brief burst of static that crackled in Twilight's ear was eerily familiar by now, as was the rumbling voice that followed it.
"Sparkle, proceed to Sickle Squadron and reposition. We require new lines of fire before proceeding with the advance."
With the barest glance to the side, markers blinked into view in a mix of glaring red, urgent yellow, and soft green. Symbols, figures, and patterns that would have seemed a bizarre and confusing jumble several weeks ago were now as clear and direct as any checklist that the book-loving pony might have written up herself. The location, distance, and estimated time to her objective were mapped out in an instant, along with any obvious obstacles.
And as obstacles went, they didn't get much more obvious than a Deff Dread spraying rokkits every which way.


Twilight frowned behind her visor before she launched up over a smoldering Battlewagon, landing on the hood of the wrecked cab. The four-armed assault walker hadn't spotted her yet, and even if it had she rather doubted she'd attract more attention than the Iron Warriors it was barreling toward. She focused on the strip of churned earth in front of the walker and began a spell, feeling the familiar flood of eldritch power and seeing the less familiar jump on her visor's energy meters.
A veritable geyser of steaming water blasted up under the Deff Dread, and it staggered backward in surprise. Once the water jet had receded, the alicorn could see that the Deff Dread was submerged up to its waist in mud, and was digging furiously into the dirt around it to try to pull itself out. It wouldn't get the chance.
The force harmonizer's heavy beam punched through the rear of the Ork vehicle with ease, and after a moment of watching the walker spit out chunks of burning metal, it exploded. Mud and fire blasted upward from the pit of muck, creating a crude, fiery imitation of the magic geyser from scarcely a minute ago.
"Got the walker. I'm heading to the target area," Twilight said before she activated her flight pack. She crossed the remaining distance to Sickle Squadron, which was sheltering behind a ridge.
The squad was a unit of Havoc heavy weapons troopers, and the Aspiring Champion that led the unit flagged Twilight down. A substantial amount of heavy gunfire was coming from beyond their cover; and Twilight could instantly tell by the sound that almost all of it came from Ork weapons rather than lasguns or bolters.
It was hard to imagine that two months ago she hadn't even known what a gun WAS.
"Sparkle, we need to reposition and slay the heavy weapons," the Champion said, pointing to a water tower, "get us to a vantage point! Then suppress their shock troopers while we gut the Orks' strength!"
Twilight's horn casing started to glow. "Yes, Lord!"
The calculations spilled across her visor, and the familiar arcane patterns came together in her head. Twilight cast the spell.
Then she winced, feeling a small jolt in her horn as the magic surged into action.
Then she winced harder as she and the Havocs materialized some ten feet from the water tower and some twenty feet from the ground. "Ponyfeathers!" she spat.
The Iron Warriors were more pointed in their complaints when they plummeted to the ground. "Incompetent witch!"


Despite Twilight's error, none of the Astartes were threatened by the drop, and each one landed flat on their feet while kicking up an impressive dust cloud. They even had a clear line of fire into the back of the main Loota squad, which was their first target.
It was just a shame that the Orks hadn't missed their arrival.
"Sorry! I'm sorry!" Twilight shouted before she shifted the harmonizer to shield mode. "My mistake! My spells have been a little unreliable lately!"
"Which is why I prefer machines for transport in the first place!" spat an Iron Warrior as he braced his heavy bolter. "Damnation! Slay the greenskins!"
Ork and Marine unleashed their guns into the other, and the greener aliens were found wanting in the exchange. The heavy bolters and boltguns tore the Orks apart in disciplined volleys, while the wash of bullets coming from the Lootas had all the discipline of a loose fire hose. Any ammunition that might have reached the Iron Warriors sawed uselessly across Twilight's harmonizer shield, and by the time the last Ork in the mob fell the Astartes were all but untouched.
"Okay! Not quite as planned, but still okay! That worked out!" Twilight shouted between heavy breaths, mostly to herself.
With the Lootas destroyed, she only had one other immediate objective that the squad Champion had given her. What was it, again?
"WAAAAAGH!!"
Right. Suppressing shock troops. The shock troops that were on the ground with them and behind them now, thanks to the poor teleport.
"Ponyfeathers," Twilight breathed again as she spun around. Some thirty Ork Slugga Boyz were charging toward her and the Havocs in a berserk fury. The Iron Warriors were already turning around, but they wouldn't manage a full volley before the aliens crashed into them.
Unless something crashed into the aliens first.


This was doubtless Rainbow Dash's thinking while she rocketed into a suicide dive straight over the heads of the Havocs, diving into the center of the mob.
"RAINBOW... BUSTER!!"
The pegasus flashed as her kinetic refractor field engaged, and she slammed head-first into the Ork's vanguard. Slugga Boyz were blasted aside or hurled into the air from the impact, and the mob's charge was brought to a shuddering halt when Rainbow Dash embedded herself in the unit Nob's stomach.
The larger Ork staggered backward, and after a moment Rainbow dropped down onto her rear at his feet.
"Yeah, I definitely prefer using that on planes," she mumbled as she stood up on all fours again, "it doesn't do that rainbow-pattern blast wave thing unless something explodes."
The surrounding Orks dove for her, but Rainbow hit her impulse blasters and once again vaulted into the air above them.
"Now! Hit 'em now!" the pegasus barked while she blasted clear.
The Havocs unleashed a blistering heavy bolter volley into the mob, aided by Twilight's harmonizer. At the same time, a squad of pegasi swooped in on each flank of the aliens, boxing the Orks in on three sides in a devastating storm of lasers and mass-reactive shells.
Half the mob had been scythed down before it elected to run, turning away from the handful of Chaos Space Marines that had seemed like easy prey less than a minute ago.
"They're retreating!" growled a Havoc as he fed a new munitions belt into his heavy bolter.
"Unacceptable. The greenskins must die," snapped the Champion as he unloaded his boltgun into the Orks' backs, "Sparkle, this is your second chance!"
Twilight considered several possible spells that would help in this particular situation before recalling the advice of a book on magic combat.
"When facing any tactical conundrum on the battlefield, the mage must consider one strategic factor first above all others," the alicorn quoted before her horn flashed, "is the target flammable?"
Again, Twilight cast her spell, and again, she felt a surge of extra power run into her horn as she finished. What was supposed to be a fire wall leaping up in front of the Orks instead became a string of fierce explosions, blasting the nearest greenskins apart even while it stopped the group's escape.
"Better," rumbled the unit Champion before he pointed to the remaining Orks. "All units, concentrate fire. Kill them all."


****


Ferrous Dominus - sector 17 Command Complex Secundus


"All right, good job guys! Another mob of greenies taken down!" Rainbow Dash cheered as she stepped out of the command center. She was followed into the streets by a line of pegasi, all of them geared up in full armor and respirators.
"So that's like a hundred down, and, what, a million to go?" grumbled a mare with a bright orange mane. "At this rate we should finish off the Orks about the time that Celestia keels over from old age."
Rainbow's eyes narrowed. "You have something you want to share, Private Dust? Any BRILLIANT IDEAS that the Space Marines happened to miss during their thousands of years of constant warfare? Huh? Speak up!"
Lightning Dust recoiled, and the other pegasi slowed down to watch while Rainbow Dash stared down the other mare from behind her blood-red visor.
"... You do realize that we're the same rank, right? Why are you talking down to me?" Lightning Dust deadpanned.
"This isn't Equestria, Private! You're a Company mare now!" Rainbow Dash barked, her flight pack puffing fire behind her. "Around here, your weapon is your rank!"
"No it isn't," Twilight Sparkle said blithely as she exited the command center behind the other ponies, "Rainbow Dash, stop trying to leverage your power armor as a status symbol. You don't outrank anybody."
"Yeah, well..." Rainbow's voice weakened considerably. "I know a guy who does! So watch your mouth, scrub!" With that final threat, Rainbow pointed her hoof toward her visor, and then pointed it toward Lightning Dust.
Lightning was glad that she had tinted flight goggles to hide her rolling her eyes. She passed by Rainbow and spread her wings to take to the air, leading the rest of the pegasus squadron away from the pair of Equinoughts.


"Why'd you have to call me out like that, Twi? I was just trying to teach her not to be so mopey," Rainbow Dash complained, "it's like a friendship lesson! Except that if you mess it up, rather than making ponies angry, you get blasted to pieces."
Twilight sighed and walked past Rainbow, not deigning to reply to her complaint.
"... Hey, Twi? Something wrong?" the pegasus asked, quickly catching up to her friend and field commander. "I know you aren't the type to be all happy about killing a bunch of people even if they totally had it coming, but you're usually not depressed about it."
"It's my magic, Dash," Twilight grumbled as she trotted down the avenue, "I'm still experiencing those mana surges, and I think they're getting worse."
Rainbow tilted her head to the side. "Wait, you mean that thing that's been happening since the Warp storm started up? The thing that makes all your spells stronger? Isn't that a good thing?"
"I know it might SOUND like a good thing, but no, it isn't," Twilight groused, "random spikes in magic output makes most spells less reliable. It isn't always a matter of 'more energy equals bigger explosion'. Many spells require fine control more than raw power, and getting it wrong could put lives at risk."
Rainbow thought that over. "Okay, so, can't you just stick to the magic spells that DO require raw power? At least until we can stop the Warp storm?"
"Yes, I suppose I could," Twilight allowed, "but flinging around big explosions isn't exactly something the Iron Warriors need help with, is it?"
Rainbow Dash laughed, her voice sounding bizarrely deep and booming from behind the vox grille of her helmet. "Ha! Yeah, you're right!" Then she clapped a boot onto Twilight's side. "Well, try to think positive! A few weeks ago we were afraid Orks were going to swarm over the entire planet, and when we opened up the Nethalican we had monsters clawing out of literally nowhere to kill us! Some wonky magic isn't so bad compared to that, is it?"
Twilight had to nod her head to that. "Okay, you have a point. Where we're at is worlds better than where we were. Especially since the Tau have finally shut off their beacon."
"That's the spirit!" the pegasus said with a grin. "Anyway, I've gotta fly. I volunteered for a lot of patrols today. See you later!"


Twilight felt a little better after her chat with Rainbow Dash, but her reassurances could only offer so much comfort.
She was certainly right that the problems they faced today were paltry compared to the threat of imminent genocide. But that problem, while certainly severe, also had a straightforward (though not easy) solution. Rainbow Dash wasn't exactly known for her foresight or inquisitive nature, but Twilight could see the writing on the wall. Their world was changing fast, and probably not for the better. Rainbow had obviously missed the subtle inferences that one might draw from Twilight's magic problems, the most important of which was that a worldwide phenomenon like the Warp storm most certainly wasn't only affecting her.


Twilight levitated her helmet off before she entered the data repository, but halted right after she entered. Spike and Gaela were standing next to a terminal, with the former waving to her and the latter tapping at the terminal monitor.
"Spike! Gaela! Hi!" Twilight said eagerly as she approached. "What are you guys studying?"
"We're not studying anything," Spike said, pointing up to Gaela.
The Dark Techpriest turned away from the monitor and then held up a pair of dataslates. "I have the reports you wanted."
Twilight blinked. "Reports?"
"You expressed an interest in any stories of unusual or destructive magic phenomena as reported by your people's media outlets. As I understand it you're trying to build a comprehensive analysis of the effects of the Warp storm on your population's psykers, are you not?"
Twilight nodded slowly, slightly bewildered. "Well... yes. I mean, the thought crossed my mind, but... you actually went and did it?"
"Centaur III represents a unique test case with very rare controls. I know of no other example of a planet surrounded by Warp storms, home to a significant population of psykers, and possessing the data-processing capabilities that the 38th Company offers. Furthermore, our ability to eventually turn the storm 'off' will allow for further study regarding the lingering effects of such exposure. These circumstances could reveal considerable amounts of useful data in a number of relevant fields, including daemonology, psykant biology, trans-dimensional harmonics, and, naturally, xeno-biology. Which will be all the more useful as the Iron Warriors make this world their own."
Twilight was absolutely silent for several seconds after Gaela finished speaking, staring up at the cyborg with an unreadable expression.
"... Can I hug you?" the purple pony asked.
"No," Gaela replied curtly, tapping the dataslates on the mare's nose, "in any case, the first slate contained a compilation of the news articles scanned from your crude, primitive media journals. The second slate contains my extrapolations of the data."
Twilight again fell silent while she levitated the dataslates in front of her.
"As you can see, there have been over forty reported incidents of inexplicable 'miscasts' that have taken place since the activation of the Nethalican. Many of these incidents have taken the form of house fires and freak explosions. By my estimates, taking into account the global numbers of unicorns and the isolation of some population centers, the actual number of significant incidents is at least four times that. Many would go unreported, either because there is no authority to report it to or because the psyker did not want to alert them. And of course, just because an incident is reported is no guarantee that it will reach a media outlet."
Pale light flickered across Twilight's face as she looked over the categorized lists and carefully modeled pie charts that had been compiled on the second dataslate.
"I REALLY want to hug you," Twilight said.
"You know I abhor physical contact with biologicals," Gaela said darkly, "restrict all gestures of appreciation and approval to verbal conventions."
Spike rolled his eyes. "I'm surrounded by geeks..."
Twilight pouted before she returned to reading the dataslates. "Thank you, Gaela! This is fantastic!" She paused and glanced over more of the data. "This supports some of my hypotheses regarding the effects of the Warp storm so far. Especially the scale of the mana surges if there have been so few."
"Few? She said there were a lot," Spike mumbled.
"If Gaela's estimates are at all accurate, that would amount to less than two hundred mana surges in two weeks," Twilight explained, "over all of Equestria? With unicorns using their magic day in and day out in the normal course of their lives? It should be much higher if other ponies were experiencing them with anything close to the frequency I have. I believe the frequency and intensity of the surges increases with the power and complexity of the spell. That would explain why I've had so many, especially while teleporting."
Gaela crossed her augmetic arms over her chest. "And yet, despite your world's APPARENT reliance upon your idiot sovereign to maintain the solar cycle via extraordinary psionic patterns, it remains undisturbed. There has been no detectable orbital variance since the Warp storm began."
Twilight groaned, but resisted her initial urge to defend Celestia's competence. She didn't want to get dragged off this topic. "I'm thinking that as far as the orbits go, the case is exactly the opposite. The spells require so MUCH power that they suffer mana surges constantly, but it makes no meaningful difference. It's like tossing a bucket of water into a lake as opposed to a wash tub."
Gaela glanced away, pursing her lips. "This hypothesis is plausible. Perhaps you should interview Princess Luna on the matter. As far as the type of psionic masteries that appear to be most..."
Gaela trailed off when Spike yawned noisily, and she raised an eyebrow as several embers floated out of his gaping jaws. "... Right. Before we discuss the matter further, Spike had his own message for you."
"Oh! Sorry, Spike. What is it?" Twilight asked as she lowered the dataslates.
The young dragon straightened immediately now that he had Twilight's attention. "It's not really a message, more like a present!" he said as he waddled over to a data core.
Twilight tilted her head to the side. "A present? Well, why did you come here to give it to me?" Then she looked up at Gaela. "Actually, why were either of you waiting here for me? You could have dropped these things off in my room."
"Indeed. But then there's no telling when you may have seen them," Gaela pointed out, "I thought I should make sure to get the data to you before such time that we decided the threat had passed and stilled the Warp once more."
"I don't spend THAT much time in the repository," Twilight protested.
As soon as she finished speaking, the door opened behind her, and the purple pony could hear heavy footsteps entering the room.
"Oh, look, it's that servitor you programmed to bring you a ration cup and bottle of water EVERY DAY at this time and place," Spike deadpanned as he walked back over to her.
Twilight looked behind her at the cyborg stepping into the room, which was indeed carrying a metal tray with her "dinner" on it, along with a spoon.
"Don't judge me," Twilight mumbled, turning back around, "anyway, what do you have there, Spike?"
The dragon grinned up at her and dropped a small box at his feet. "Just a little something from your coltfriend!"
Twilight, naturally, looked perplexed. "I don't have a coltfriend." Then she took a step back. "Wait, you don't mean it's from Dusk Blade, do you?"
"Yup," Spike snickered before he opened the box.
Inside the container was a shallow pot full of small yellow blossoms that hung down from their stems like tiny bells. Stuck into the potting soil next to it was a small tag that was commonly used to warn ponies that certain flowers weren't edible.
"Are those dawn jewel blossoms?" Twilight asked, a small gasp escaping her lips. "That's a rare variety of very poisonous flower that's only found in the Midnight Crags mountain range! They're extremely valuable to alchemists!"
"Fascinating. An unusually limited habitat suggests the presence of unique base compounds in the regional environment. Perhaps they are related to the plant's toxicity," Gaela added.
Spike blinked. "Uh... and they're pretty, right?" The females ignored him.
"Hey, there's a note, too!" Twilight said as she levitated a small scroll out of the box and spread it open.
"Care instructions? Or a chemical analysis?" Gaela asked, leaning in closer.
"No, it looks like a romantic poem."
Gaela made a disappointed sound and returned to the terminal monitor.
Twilight cleared her throat and started to read the scroll. "Roses are red, Luna is blue, but neither of them are so amazing as you. Like the fragile flower in which poisons dwell, your charming demeanor hides a fierceness as well. Numberless opponents may threaten us all, but with you at my side I shall never fall. I know you don't like me and I'm pushing my luck, but I'd really like us to get together and..." Twilight paused as she squinted at the paper. "Strange. The next word is all scribbled out, and it ends with 'discuss geopolitics'. That doesn't even rhyme."
"Disgusting," Gaela interjected while she looked over a supply manifest. "Lieutenant Blade has an excellent combat and academic record. Pathetic to see so much of his time and energy wasted on asinine mating rituals."
Twilight grimaced. "He IS wasting his time. I don't want anything to do with that creep." Her voice wavered noticeably as she stared down at the flowers. "... Although, I guess I should do... SOMETHING in return for this. Something platonic, I mean! It couldn't have been easy to get these!"
Spike raised an eyebrow. "How hard could it be to fly up a mountain and pick some flowers?"
Twilight shook her head. "The Midnight Crags are known for all sorts of poisonous flora, some of which can make a pony violently ill just by touching it. Normally only very experienced alchemists can gather plants there. For Dusk Blade to go on his own..." Her sentence trailed off, and her eyes narrowed again. "Hey, Gaela?"
"Hm?"
"Can you bring up the current medicae facility register?"
With a swipe of her hand and a flicker of her optics, the monitor display changed to the aforementioned register log. "Done. And what, exactly, am I looking for?" asked the Dark Techpriest.
"I don't suppose any human slaves were recently admitted, were they?" Twilight asked.
"Affirmative. One such individual was inducted last night. Diagnosis is botanical poisoning," Gaela said blithely, "would you like me to tell you the owner registered to him, or would you like to guess?"
Spike sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Ooh... busted."
Twilight sighed. "Well, all right, then. I suppose I have to arrange a little 'gesture' of my own, now."


****


Ferrous Dominus - sector 13 manufactorum block


"I undershtand your concernsh, Wraithshtar, I really do. I'd even go sho far ash to shay that I agree with you. But that doeshn't have nearly ash much bearing on your circumshtancesh ash you might hope."
Solon stalked through the halls of the manufactorum, his form lurching back and forth as the legs of his chassis stretched over loose crates and humming power cables. Wraithstar walked briskly behind the cyborg giant, his arms clasped behind his back and an expression of carefully controlled discontent on his face.
"I understand that you don't like to... micromanage your forces, Warsmith Solon," the Tau Commander mumbled, "but I would appreciate your direct intervention in this matter. Neither Lord Sliver or Magos Kaelith have been receptive."
Wraithstar wound his way around the hefty iron crates that littered the hallway as he rushed to keep pace with the Chaos Lord. "Now that the Emerald Dawn Project is complete and the beacon has been deactivated, we must look to the future of our alliance. If the 'Detachment Xenis' that you've established is to outlast the next few sorties you intend for your fleet, then we need to establish a functional civilian colony, as the Kroot have begun doing."
"Without needing our permission, time, or reshourcesh," Solon quipped, "you could learn a thing or two from your shavage friendsh."
The Shas'el restrained a sigh. "A Tau settlement is somewhat more sophisticated than a Kroot hunting camp. And I only WISH that my Fire Warriors could subsist on the flesh of the Orks they kill."
"Well, that ish the crux of the matter, ishn't it?" Solon swiveled around so the glare of his optics was visible to the alien. "I don't care if you build a shettlement and shpawn more bodiesh for my forgesh and firing linesh. I approve of it, in fact. But you want to do sho with my materialsh, technology, and manpower, and eshtablish thish colony far out of my immediate control."
Wraithstar made a face. "With all due respect, Warsmith, it isn't feasible to build a colony in the wastelands."
"It'sh good enough for our humansh, ishn't it?" Solon countered.
"I get the distinct impression that it isn't, actually. Your menials and mercenaries take any opportunity they can to tour Equestrian land, desperate to be away from the choking poisons of your main base."
"And sho you've come to ashk for a shlice of that land," Solon said with a snort, "your proposhed colony would be within shniping dishtance of sheveral pony shettlementsh."
"The land I propose using is uninhabited," Wraithstar pointed out, "and the settlement will be non-military."
"But it ish shtill in Equeshtrian territory."
"Equestrian territory is YOUR territory, Warsmith. This planet belongs to you."
Solon laughed while he and the Commander passed by a row of rumbling production lines. "Oh, I have no doubt that I could shtroll into the Equeshtrian palace, demand a shtrip of the equine'sh empty land, and have the affair shorted and confirmed within an hour. That ish not in queshtion." He swiveled back around as he led Wraithstar deeper into the facility. "But your people are going to have to ingratiate yourshelvesh much further with me to earn shuch favorsh. We've already given you much, xeno, and your feeble Shept hash done little to repay ush."
Wraithstar had a litany of scathing retorts to that accusation, but quashed them in an instant. He may not have been Water Caste, but he had enough respect for basic hierarchy (not to mention sheer killing power) to know when was the wrong time to get defensive.
"So then, what can be done?" Wraithstar asked calmly.
Solon could hear the sound of a heavy, rhythmic humming as he progressed deeper into the manufactorum, but focused on Wraithstar's question.
"I can shet enhanced quotash for your workersh and sholdiersh. Prove yourshelvesh to me with new void ship upgradesh and dead Orksh, and I will be more generoush with my reshourcesh." He chuckled again. "If you need shpace outshide of the badlandsh, however, you'll have to negotiate that with the shoveriegn governmentsh that control the territory. Or wait until we get around to neutralizing their shovereignty."
The throbbing noise was getting louder, and Wraithstar cast a curious glance at a door ahead of them before responding. "We have no Water Caste and no contacts among the non-Equestrian governments," he groused, "and I'm sure you realize the root of our difficulties in dealing with Equestria."
"I not only realize it, I find it amushing to no end," Solon said, "but that ishn't really my problem, ish it?" The sound was now a rapid, thrumming beat, and easily identifiable as music coming from the other side of the manufactorum wall. Solon paused in front of the doors to his forge.
"Ah, Lord Warsmith? Do you know what that noise is?" asked Wraithstar.
"I believe sho," Solon sighed before he entered his signum codex.


The vault doors slid open, and Wraithstar found himself almost buffeted by the waves of heavy dubstep music.
Solon stepped in ahead, and the Tau Commander followed with his hands clapped over his ear holes. What the alien officer saw, however, disturbed him far more than what he heard.
The forge was full of daemons. Clawed, horned, spine-ridden monsters were everywhere, their eyes black as pitch and their skin burning with arcane glyphs. Many carried weapons as well, and Wraithstar quickly took up his pulse pistol from its holster and aimed it toward the horde.
Solon noticed what the alien was doing, and he waved the Tau aside. "Oh, put that away before you hurt yourshelf," the Iron Warrior grunted.
"Th-These are the same sort of creatures that attacked us from the Nethalican, are they not? What are they doing here?!"
"I believe it'sh called a 'mosh pit'," Solon explained helpfully.
As Wraithstar paused to take stock of the daemonic horde crowding around the forge, he did have to admit that the behavior of these daemons was not at all similar to the bloodthirsty, raving beasts that he had seen from numerous combat recorders. For one thing, they seemed to be... well, "dancing" probably wasn't the right word, but the way they were thrashing about to the music probably could have been far more lethal and aggressive if they tried. Some of the daemons, though, were engaging in activities that were more obviously unrelated to violence and blood sport. There were many of them gathered around high tables that held drinks, some of them swung gleefully from servo arms attached to the ceiling, and others were lounging on cushions and watching what appeared to be some sort of equine sporting event. Colored lumen balls hung from the ceiling and blasted rays of neon light into the throng, and there were even some daemons laughing and drinking as he had sometimes seen humans do.
"What... What is this?" Wraithstar asked as he slowly lowered his sidearm.
"It appearsh to be a party," Solon replied dryly, "in my forge."
"But... they're DAEMONS, correct? Why would mindless beasts like that want to... how are they even..."
Solon sighed as the alien started stuttering. "Shuffice to shay, not all daemonsh are shimple monshtersh, Wraithshtar. Even sho, thish ish far from normal. You should probably go."
The Tau Commander did so, holstering his pistol and then backing away. The forge gates slammed shut as soon as he was clear, and the Shas'el shuddered before he headed down the hall once more.


On the other side of the doors, Solon started approaching the throng of partying daemons. His approach was hard to miss, despite the flashing lights and noise, and several Warp monstrosities waved happily to the Iron Warrior.
"Mish Pie! I know you're here!" Solon shouted, his vox booming over the music.
Almost immediately, a pink blur zipped out of the psychotic press of flailing, bladed limbs that was the mosh pit. Pinkie Pie stopped short in front of Solon, and then snapped one foreleg to her forehead in salute.
"Private Pinkie Pie prepared for pernicious party prerogatives, partner!"
Solon nodded curtly. "Of courshe. Can you explain why there ish a daemonic party in my own forge that I wash not informed of, much lesh invited to?"
"Nopey-dopey!" Pinkie said brightly.
That gave the Warsmith pause. "Explain, pleashe."
"It's not my party this time!" Pinkie said. "I'm here to see you!"
Before Solon could fully process that, the pink earth pony had shifted poses. Now she was on her side, on the floor, clasping one of Solon's legs between her front hooves while tears crawled from her eyes.
"Please, Shmithy! Let me see Desty! It's been weeks since you locked him up in the DarkMech labs! I have to see him! I simply MUST!" She turned her head away, her eyes squeezed shut. "You don't know what it's like to be separated from my beloved! The torment I've endured, and which he has surely felt in return! Our hearts - three of them, between the two of us - intertwined no matter the distance between us, ache to be returned to one another!" Pinkie shifted poses again, prostrating herself on the floor. "Oh, glorious, mighty Warsmith! Return my Desty to me! Look deep within the ugly, coal-black pit of writhing insects that is your heart, and embrace the mercy that I assume without any justification is there! I'm BEGGING you!"
"No," Solon replied succinctly.
"Aw, poo," Pinkie Pie mumbled as she stood up again, hanging her head.
"Now that your query hash been resholved, can we get back to why there are Bloodlettersh shlicing open kegsh of shynthehol on my work tablesh?"
Pinkie blinked. "Why? Is there a better place to cut them open?"
A peal of bellowing laughter interrupted Solon's response, and his legs lifted him higher so that he could look over the throng.
"Oh, Warsmith! How lovely of you to join us!" Discord said, suddenly clapping a hand on Solon's shoulder from behind.
The Iron Warrior swiveled around, confirming that, yes, Discord was standing on his chassis behind him and laughing. "May I ashume that this ish your doing, Dishcord?"
"Why yesh, you may ashume that," Discord confirmed, mimicking Solon's speech, "just inviting a few business associates over for dancing and drinks; no big deal. You don't mind, do you?"
"Ash a matter of fact, I..." Solon trailed off as one of his peripheral optics picked something up. "Hold on."
Turning toward the mingling Warpspawn, he picked out a pair of Daemonettes with his targeters. His heavy bolters dropped out underneath his chassis a moment later.
The music cut out as the roar of the heavy bolters ripped through the forge, and the gyrations and conversations of the daemons were brought to a shuddering halt when two of their number were shredded by the mighty guns. The Daemonettes shrieked angrily as their bodies came apart, disintegrating into a swirl of purple dust and white fire.
"You know, this is why I don't invite you to these things," Discord sighed, leaning his elbow on Solon's head.
"Multiple additional targetsh detected," the Iron Warrior said, "activating forge defenshive batteriesh."
As his optics bracketed every daemon in the room bearing Marks and runic symbols of Slaanesh, several ceiling panels dropped down and deployed heavy bolter turrets. A moment later the entire room was ablaze with gunfire, and the party-going monstrosities scattered and shrieked while the daemonettes were picked out and gunned down.


"Man, why does every gig I do here get interrupted by bolter fire?" Vinyl Scratch grumbled, covering behind her turntable.
"Tell me about it," snarled a Khornate Herald ducking next to her, "bleeding psychos."


After a few seconds of the turrets shredding apart every Daemonette in the room, Solon's visor returned no new targets.
"Area clear. All forge defenshesh, dishengage," the Warsmith said calmly. At his command, the heavy bolters were pulled up into the ceiling bays where they had been hidden. "You may all go back to what you were doing."
As the music started up again and the daemons returned to their previous activities - not obviously disturbed or upset by the sudden purge - Discord hopped off of Solon's chassis.
"Still upset about that whole THING with the Emperor's Children, eh?" the draconequus asked. "Come on, man, it's been ten thousand years since they tried to sacrifice your Primarch to Slaanesh! And they totally screwed it up, too!"
"Shome woundsh don't heal with time, Archdaemon," Solon grunted, "you should have known better than to let the lackeysh of the Whore God into thish place."
"Oh, pish-posh! What kind of party would it be without a little Slaanesh?"
"My forge, my rulesh! Why are you even holding it in here, anyway?"
Discord spent a moment considering the question. "You mean besides my going out of my way to annoy you?"
"Of courshe. That much I undershtand."
Discord pointed to the wall of hololithic screens that covered the sides of the forge. "You have the best wide-screen entertainment system in the fortress. You didn't expect us to watch the hoofball game on those dinky little room cogitators, did you?"
"That'sh not what thoshe shcreensh are for, damn it!"
Pinkie Pie suddenly jumped up between the two, landing on Solon's augmetic pincer and beckoning to Discord. "C'mon guys, don't fight! We're all friends here, aren't we?" she asked with a wide smile.
"Meh," Discord and Solon said in stereo.
"I put up with him mainly becaushe trying to kill him ish a washte of time," Solon grumbled.
"I'm only here because he's helping save a world I'm rather fond of," Discord allowed, arms crossed over his chest, "Orks are fun, don't get me wrong, but they make the WORST neighbors."
"Aw, c'mon guys! You ancient evil abominations have to stick together!" the pink mare insisted, stretching one foreleg around Discord and pulling him in close. "If you weren't friends before, then now's the time, right?"
"I don't have to hug him, do I?" Discord asked, wincing. "Last time I did that, I got space tetanus."
"Shtill don't know how that happened. You shouldn't be vulnerable to disheashe," Solon mumbled, "but physhical contact should definitely be kept to a minimum."
Pinkie released Discord, and then she glanced back and forth between the Chaos Space Marine and the Chaos Spirit.
"Soooo... we never really covered this before, but... how do you two know each other, anyway?"
"LONG story," Discord said, his body stretching lengthwise as he emphasized the word, "and it's full of violence and bloodshed and explosions and much gnashing of teeth." He stuck out his tongue. "Dreadfully boring, really."
Solon stepped over to a table and took a shot glass off the surface, ignoring the Flamer of Tzeentch that it presumably belonged to. "Dishcord firsht met me under the guishe of the daemon prophet, Therak'zl."
The Flamer started screeching angrily as Solon uncapped an intake valve and started draining the beverage into it. "It wash not a friendly encounter. At that point my Legion did not yet accept co-exishtence with daemonsh ash the norm, and I reacted with... inadvishable hoshtility."
The Flamer of Tzeentch started puffing shrouds of fire into Solon's chassis, and the Warsmith promptly smashed a leg into its head, not even looking at the lesser daemon as it was crushed.
Pinkie's eyes went wide while she thought over Solon's claim. "Wait, you two fought? Like, for realsies?"
"I'm not sure if you can call my effort 'for realsies'," Discord confessed, leaning against Solon and buffing the fingernails of his lion paw against his chest, "I won, by the way."
"And that wash the firsht time I wash ever decapitated," Solon sighed. He dropped the empty drink glass into the pipe after its contents, and then replaced the cap over the pipe. "Shince then, our relationship hash been... profeshional, at besht."
Pinkie continued looking between Discord and Solon, very curious. "Okay, but, like, you don't want to kill each other, right?"
"Like many individualsh - including a few poniesh that I will not name - I wouldn't mind sheeing Dishcord shuffer a horrible, agonizing demishe," Solon admitted, "but doing it myshelf jusht ishn't worth the effort."
Discord snickered and started grinding his knuckles against the top of Solon's head in a brutal cyber-noogie that sent a shower of sparks flying everywhere. "Awww, don't get all mushy on me, now!"
Pinkie's eyes narrowed in thought as she put a hoof to her chin. "I can see we have some work to do here vis-a-vis the magic of friendship."
"Well, I told Fluttershy that I'd never had a friend before her, and I meant it," Discord said, finally hopping off of the Chaos Lord, "it's not a very fun place out there, in the rest of the galaxy. Why do you think I've been HERE for so long?"
"Well, we can fix that!" Pinkie Pie said with a grin. "C'mon, Dissy! Let's show the Warsmith how to par-TAY!"
"I can't," Solon said with a sigh as he beckoned toward his cogitator banks, "I need to run the final checksh on the new Warp drivesh and make shure they're calibrated to the correct transhlational-"
"NERRRRRRRRRRD!!" boomed numerous daemons from all around the Warsmith. And Discord. And Pinkie Pie.
"Oh, fine," Solon grunted, seeming to deflate slightly, "I probably washn't going to get anything productive done anyway."
"That's the spirit!" Pinkie cheered.


****


Ferrous Dominus - sector 23, council meeting hall


"Hello, everybody! And welcome to the fifth meeting of the Ferrous Dominus Public Works and City Beautification Committee!" chirped an off-white pegasus mare wearing the upper half of a fleet officer's uniform. There were several ponies and human cultists seated in a semi-circle around her, and these figures clapped somewhat hesitantly while the pegasus beamed.
"I want to start by saying that I'm really proud of all of you guys for sticking to the cause so far and giving your all to make this massive city of metal and poison the best it can be!" the mare continued brightly. "As most of you know, I'm Wind Chime, and I'll be chairing this meeting."
Grinning widely, she tapped a hoof against a holoboard behind her. "Now, before we jump into our agenda, we have some new faces today! Or, rather, one new face and a helmet!" She giggled briefly. "Please, go ahead and introduce yourselves!"
In the middle of the semi-circle, sitting on a metal stool that was obviously straining heroically to support its occupant, was Tellis. The Chaos Lord was the only Iron Warrior in attendance, and his presence was obviously making most of the other individuals in the room nervous. Behind Tellis sat Fluttershy, who was squirming anxiously and trying to hide behind her hair. She wasn't wearing her armor suit, and seemed exceptionally jittery as a result.
The Raptor Lord jabbed a thumb into his chest plate. "Hey. Name's Tellis. Peeps usually call me 'Lord' Tellis, but frankly I'm not into that formal crap. You may also hear me referred to as the Mad Angel. If any of you are ever around Vice-Commander Sliver when he starts raging up a storm you might pick up a few more nicknames for me, but none of those can be repeated in polite company." The wings of his flight pack stretched upward as he leaned forward. "I'm kind of a big shot around here, being one of the few genuine Chaos Lords on staff, and probably the leader of the Steel Reaver assault team. But don't let my rank, attitude, or incredibly fearsome stature intimidate you!" He pointed to Wind Chime. "What you SHOULD be intimidated by is my ability to carve you into shreds with minimal effort. That's important." Several of the people seated close to the Iron Warrior quietly shifted their chairs further away.
Wind Chime, for her part, cocked her head to one side in thought. "You said you're PROBABLY the leader of the Steel Reavers? You don't know?"
"Not really. Haven't seen those guys in a while. They might be dead." Tellis shrugged.
Wind Chime seemed to accept this, and she leaned to one side so that she could see past Tellis to the pegasus sheltering behind him. "All right, then! Your turn!"
Fluttershy squeaked and ducked completely under Tellis's flight pack. The members of the Public Works committee found the sight outrageously adorable, although some of them couldn't help but be slightly insulted that she seemed to find them more terrifying than the Raptor Lord.
"Oh, no, that's okay. They can skip me. I don't want to take up anybody's time," Fluttershy mumbled quietly.
"C'mon Shy, this was your idea!" Tellis admonished the yellow pony.
"It wasn't my idea to go with you," Fluttershy whined, trying to curl up into a ball. "And why did you make me leave my armor behind?"
"Because then you'd turn invisible and nobody would even know you're here."
"I don't see a problem with that!"
Wind Chime frowned. "Does she need a minute, Lord Tellis?"
"No, that's not what she needs at all," Tellis griped.
With a movement as sudden, agile, and frightening as a striking viper, the Chaos Lord seized Fluttershy around the barrel and shoved her forward into the air. She yelped in fright, and a flush spread across her face.
"This is Fluttershy. I hear she's like a hero among your people or something. She's the Element of... uh..." Tellis trailed off while he held up the pony for all the room to see, "... it's something like... the opposite of hitting people until they die."
"K-Kindness," Fluttershy squeaked out, her face turning even more red when some of the ponies clapped their hooves approvingly and smiled at her.
"Yeah, that. Obviously, she's got some pretty severe social phobias, and they seem to have gotten a bit worse since Solon gave her a cloak-capable metal shell to hide in. Still, she's like my second best friend."
A nearby stallion raised an eyebrow. "How did she become friends with someone like you?"
"The same way she became a space pirate," Tellis explained with a shrug, "she was volunteered by somepony else who didn't know any better."


Wind Chime nodded. "All right, thank you. Now we can move on."
Tellis placed Fluttershy back onto the floor, and the yellow pegasus quickly ducked down to make herself as small as possible. She was no longer the center of attention, though, so at least she didn't feel the need to hide.
"We've made a lot of progress here in Ferrous Dominus, and every day new businesses and residents are joining our community here in the middle of our hyper-militarized home! This week we've had a spa and luxury farrier move in on the Delta block, and Green Gardens thinks there are finally enough young ponies in Ferrous Dominus to establish a formalized school system!"
A woman in a cultist's robe raised her hand. "Will we be teaching the equine young of the supremacy of Chaos and that all souls are subordinate to the Dark Gods?"
"That sounds like an elective curriculum to me," a mare next to her opined, "let's start with the important stuff: math, writing, civics, and basic wargear maintenance."
"I think I know somepony who can help provide textbooks," volunteered another pony.
"Very good! Having a proper school system will also allow some of the unicorn conscripts to bring their families here, too! There are lots of cabal ponies that ended up leaving their lovers and children behind because they didn't want to relocate them to a military complex caked in toxic smog! And while having a school system doesn't really change that, it will at least give them somewhere to drop off their kids every day!" Wind Chime said in her abnormally upbeat tone. "Speaking of which, as all of you are doubtless aware, the greatest challenge to beautification here in Ferrous Dominus is the fact that it spews out literally tons of filthy, choking poisons every day! We've formed task groups to deal with some of the problems, and I'd like to take the time to thank Gloomy Glider and Irin for their help in securing the servitor sweeper teams that help clean up the soot on the streets."
There was some light applause from the other members of the group as they turned toward a menial and a rather sleepy-looking batpony mare.
"However, our short-term goal is to reach air quality improvements such that residents don't have to wear rebreathers just to walk around outside. Unfortunately, we're still experiencing obstacles in that area. Mister Craft?"
A tan-colored earth pony stallion with his head wrapped in bandages sighed. "The big problem is the Dark Mechanicus. Obviously, they're ultimately responsible for the pollution, and they haven't been very receptive to our ideas." Then he massaged his head tenderly. "Also, they have a series of hydraulic springboards in the floors that they use to fling us out of the buildings. It makes it hard to hold a dialogue."
Tellis suddenly raised his hand. "Have we considered using violence?"
Wind Chime frowned. "As a rule, we try to avoid hostile confrontation. Our group works to create a better place to live for all of us, and there's no reason we should have to literally fight for that."
"But your efforts haven't immediately gotten you everything you want, and in my experience, that's when it's time to start killing things," Tellis said solemnly, "for example, I feel like our chances of receiving a fair hearing from the Dark Nerds would be a lot better if I stuffed a few of them into the smokestacks we want cleaned up."
"I feel like we shouldn't be making aggressive gestures toward the most powerful and influential people around," mumbled another pony.
"I do that all the time," the Iron Warrior scoffed, holding out a hand and then gripping it into a fist. "Look, all that I'm saying is: give war a CHANCE."
The members of the committee glanced at each other uneasily, none of them speaking for several seconds.
Then Tellis pointed down at Fluttershy. "Oh! Also, Flutters here can totally control their giant, daemon-possessed war machines."
Several eyebrows arched upward, and Fluttershy winced. Not from being the center of attention again, but from her imagining where this line of thought was heading.
"Well, then," Wind Chime said, smiling as she tapped her front hooves together, "that just might give us some new options..."


****


Ferrous Dominus - sector 22 Merchant Corp Offices


Rarity calmly levitated a cup of tea to her lips as she looked over the pair of floating hololith screens in front of her. Every few seconds her eyes would flit from one screen to the other, and her horn flickered intermittently as she applied gentle brushes of telekinesis against the hard-light images.
The snow-white mare was laying on a small pile of velvety seat cushions between a pair of stone-faced men who were both obviously wondering how their careers had reached such a tragic nadir. Across from Rarity, lined up in a row, were ten other ponies of various races. All of them waited silently to be addressed by the Element of Generosity, and all wore the sniffy, generally disinterested expressions common to ponies of high status. For those individuals who were less adept at reading body language and other subtle social cues, there were also their cutie marks, which mostly related to money, gold, jewelry, and other such icons of the elite.
Rarity took her time reading the hololiths, and then finally finished her tea. With a gracious smile, the unicorn mare dropped her tea cup onto a panel at her side, and the hololiths vanished.
"Ladies and gentlecolts," Rarity began, fluttering her eyelashs, "greetings and welcome to Ferrous Dominus. The largest hive of scum and villainy this side of the changeling caverns, and the only city in the world hideous enough to make the badlands look worse for its presence."
There were a few appreciative smirks and snickers at that, and some of the other ponies visibly relaxed.
"And yet, it is the seat of the greatest power Equestria has ever known. And, if we're lucky, the greatest power it ever WILL know. No doubt that's why you all chose to come here."
One mare frowned and started to raise a hoof.
"That, or you have some unhealthy fondness for industrial blight, macabre environs, and military technology," Rarity added with a roll of her eyes, "you wouldn't be the first." The mare lowered her foreleg, evidently satisfied. "Regardless of what your specific reasons were to come, the reason you're here, in this office, is the same: Master Norris Delgan has decided that each of you have something to offer him. Whether in the field of economy, politics, the arts, or business, your dossiers managed to impress the Trademaster." Rarity paused. "Also, each of you seem to have a history of treating others like property. I'm not really proud to admit it, but that attitude plays rather well here."
"Ha! And my father INSISTED that would be a liability!" barked one of the stallions happily.
"Yes, well, allow me to explain our role as the Company's Merchant Corps in greater detail," Rarity continued, levitating her empty cup over to one of the men standing next to her. He plucked it out of the air and then withdrew from the room for more tea while muttering under his breath.
The snow-colored unicorn cleared her throat briefly. "In the 38th Company, the Iron Warriors command and fight. And for the most part, that is ALL they do," Rarity began, "the Dark Mechanicus, by the same token, build things and conduct research. And that's all THEY do. Everything else is handled by us."
A pegasus mare boasting an impressive array of jewelry frowned. "That leaves a great number of matters in our hooves, don't you think?"
"I do," Rarity agreed, "but the Iron Warriors don't see it that way. They think that so long as they toss the humans some food, water, and the occasional shiny object, then their army has everything it needs and there should be no complaints. They seem honestly baffled as to why the mercenaries want for anything more than nutrient gruel and a gun to fight with." She sighed. "What's more, now that our world is safe they're trying to set up something akin to a colony here. You really can't imagine how helpless the Astartes are when handling a society more complex than a work camp. And when you consider that this hypothetical future colony may be comprised of at least four different species, at least two of which generally despise another resident race... well, Master Delgan is going to have his hooves full."
One of the men turned his head. "We don't have-"
"It's a turn of phrase, darling," Rarity interrupted, waving a foreleg at him, "the point is, we have a lot of work ahead of us, and you all have more talent and relevant experience available than any of the humans he considered."
Rarity shifted slightly when the second human came back with her tea, placing the cup next to her with a resentful grimace on his features.
"I can't help but think talk of a colony is quite premature," muttered another mare, "at the rate the humans are dying off, there won't be enough of them left to populate a hamlet, much less a city."
Rarity's expression turned noticeably colder. "Well, then you may find yourself working for treacherous Fire Warriors, Kroot savages, and disgruntled Space Marines. Is that what you signed up for?"
The pony cringed at the thought. "Ah. Right. No, it isn't." She pursed her lips. "The point still stands, though. There aren't many humans left, are there?"
"They've lost many mercenary troops, yes. But there are still a great number of menial workers and fleet personnel," Rarity explained tightly, "and eventually, if things go as planned, Warsmith Solon plans to hire more mercenaries and bring them to our world. We seek to make their lives here in Ferrous Dominus somewhat more tolerable and productive than their time working in a space ship full of monsters. And, hopefully, we can prevent another wholesale massacre of the sort that was necessary to save our planet."
"Where is Master Delgan now?" asked a unicorn stallion, glancing back and forth. "I heard he isn't shy about public appearances. Do we not rate a personal meeting?"
"Oh, it's not that," Rarity assured him while keeping herself from rolling her eyes, "Master Delgan is on business in Canterlot, answering the Equestrian government's questions about the raw materials market."
"Heard about that," mumbled another pony, "the prices for metal are through the roof right now."
"Right. Some ponies have been toying with the idea of export bans, additional tariffs, and all sorts of troublesome ideas," Rarity snorted, "the Trademaster is currently making sure that such ideas aren't implemented. It shouldn't take long; now isn't a good time to be seen causing trouble for the 38th Company." Rarity stood up from her pillows, and then she nodded to the men at her side. They started heading toward the door, still looking extremely unhappy.
"If you think about it, it wouldn't matter if the royal government DID try to enact some sort of new trade laws," a mare chuckled, "the Iron Warriors could just tell them to stop."
Rarity grimaced as she started trotting toward the exit, leading the other ponies into the hall. "We try not to think about it. Follow me. I'll show you to your rooms, and then your offices."


****


Sweet Apple Acres


Applejack took a deep breath while she stood on a dirt patch in front of her farm, drawing in the earthy scents of her ancestral home.
True, there was some differences now, and the smell of oak and apples was mixed with the slightly tangy aroma of promethium fuel. Also true, she had to deliberately face away from the farmstead and nearby buildings if she wanted to get a view of anything that could possibly be considered "nature". Also also true, even this cropped view of her crops still contained a heavy laser turret and a few distant drilling towers.
But even these grim, armor-plated eyesores still caused a deep welling of pride within the apple farmer's breast. It was only thanks to hard work, sacrifice, and fighting of the most brutal sort that her farm and the adjoined town still stood at all. And as Applejack gazed over her young, re-planted orchard, she couldn't help but feel a sense of wonderment and awe.
"Mah stars, them alien apples sure grew fast."
Most of the awe and wonderment, as it turned out, were reserved for the large green spines jutting out of the blast crater and surrounding the twisted hull of the wrecked Tau ship. The "alien" section of the orchard had apparently reached adulthood in the mere two weeks since they had been planted, and the apple spines were already starting to grow fruit. This process apparently dispensed with the usual blossoming mechanisms that preceded the growth of apple fruits in natural plants, and the curved undersides of the thorn-ridden and carapace-armored apple spines were already covered in numerous little purple globules.
It looked kind of gross, honestly.


"Hey, Sis!"
Applejack twisted her head about and spotted Apple Bloom trotting down the path toward the farm.
"Hey, little filly! School out already?" Applejack asked, tilting back her hat.
"Yeah! Ah'm gonna put away mah stuff, and then me an' the other Champions are goin' ta Temple!" Apple Bloom said brightly.
Applejack's mood soured immediately. "Now, hold on. Ya know Ah don't like ya runnin' off to that creepy Chaos church every chance ya git! Ya just went yesterday!"
Apple Bloom gave her an annoyed look. "But ya said that Ah can worship mah God however Ah want, long as Ah don't hurt nopony!"
"Ah did say that, and Ah meant it," Applejack grunted, "but Ah still don't like it. Ah think those cultists are a bad influence, an' Ah'm afraid some kinda raving, bloodthirsty monster is gonna come outta the Dark Portal."
Apple Bloom snorted. "That hardly ever happens! 'Sides, Ah can't miss today's sermon! Scoots said that Father Virgil made cookies!"
Applejack made a groaning noise before she turned her head to look over the treetops toward the town. On the other side of Ponyville, looming over the busy little hamlet, was a dark structure of twisted iron and hateful power. The Nethalican's temple was surrounded by several black towers that bled coruscating flame into the air and were covered with grim effigies and embellishments. The central complex was a large pyramid (large relative to the nearby structures in Ponyville, anyway) capped with a crystal nexus. Several times a day, with no apparent regularity, the crystal would start pulsing brightly, and then a column of black, cloudy un-light would lance upward into the sky. Applejack had no idea what that was about, and could only hope that it was related to the Warp storms that protected their planet from further invasion.
The elder Apple sister had only ever been inside the temple once, and had committed to never entering again unless completely necessary. That place felt wrong to the extreme, and the entire time she was inside she'd felt as if Death itself was stroking her back. It reminded her of Ferrous Dominus, but whereas she had gotten used to the pervasive blight and creepy atmosphere of the fortress-factory, the sense of malevolence and death within the temple was too intense to possibly ignore.
"... Cookies, huh?" Applejack sighed. "A'right, fahn. Ya can go. But make sure yer back 'fore sundown! And yer takin' yer bath right after, ya hear?"
Apple Bloom squealed happily and galloped off for the farmhouse.


Applejack watched her go, and then her gaze tracked back to Ponyville. Obviously, much of the town had been ruined in the battle to stave off the Orks, with numerous whole buildings demolished or burned. Others had not been damaged beyond repair, but at least to the point where they were hard to live in, and as such their owners had to be housed elsewhere, at least temporarily.
Delgan had been happy to help, naturally, and had cajoled the Dark Mechanicus (which was much less happy to help) into action. In a matter of days, new dwellings of reinforced metal and hard-angled ferrocrete had sprung up alongside the pony homes being rebuilt. Some were for Delgan himself, as part of his sprawling investments in the Equestrian economy and its booming xenotech trade. Others were new homes and businesses purchased or leased by Ponyville residents, probably financed by some shady and exploitative loan agreement. Applejack was extremely thankful that she had been able to deal with the Dark Mechanicus directly when her own home had been "purchased".
Needless to say, these new space-age dwellings needed infrastructure that Ponyville wasn't suited to providing, even BEFORE half the town was wrecked by alien marauders. More new buildings, new towers, a new mag-rail line, and ever more bundles of thick metal cables were strung through the town between old wooden buildings of traditional earth pony architecture, giving Ponyville a bizarre and distinctly hideous hybrid look: half rural village, half hyper-industrialized trading post. To add insult to injury, someone had decided to post tall flagpoles around town and hang giant black standards from them. Each billowing length of cloth bore the Iron Skull or a Chaos Star, and - in what was a curiously passive-aggressive show of dominance - were positioned so that they faced the capital city of Canterlot.


Applejack shrugged and trotted toward the crater full of apple spines, putting the renovations to Ponyville out of her mind. As reluctant as she was to admit it, this town wasn't technically her home anymore. And in that respect, she dearly needed to help get Sweet Apple Acres back into working shape while she could; there was no telling when some Company bigwig was going to decide they needed Equinought Squadron on hand and at full strength and call her in to fight.
She spotted Braeburn and Apple Tart walking up the side of the crater that demarcated the "alien orchard", and she waved a hoof at them as they climbed up the shallow incline.
"Hey, y'all done checkin' on them spines?" Applejack asked. "How're they lookin'?"
Braeburn climbed up over the lip of the impact impression, and he took a moment to unbuckle the respirator strapped onto his face. "Just a... sec... got it!" He shifted the mask down under his chin. "Dang fiddly buckles. Ah swear, near everythin' the apes make ya can't use without fingers!"
Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Well, yeah. That was never really an issue fer 'em 'til now."
Braeburn shook his head and then glanced over to Apple Tart. "Why doncha head in first and wash up? I'll be in after ya."
The mare nodded and trotted off, and Braeburn turned back to his cousin with a lopsided smile.
"Well, Cuz, Ah gotta admit Ah was mighty suspicious 'bout this 'alien apples' business before, but Ah'm gonna hafta eat mah words. These here spines're mighty impressive!"
"Impressive to us, maybe," Applejack retorted, "but mah customers ain't gonna be impressed by a scary-lookin' fruit tree that can grow in a week. They've gotta be impressed by the fruit."
"Well, here," Braeburn turned and dug his hoof into a saddle bag, "try fer yerself!"
He tossed something to her, and Applejack deftly caught it out of the air on one hoof. The object was a medium-sized apple, rich blue in color. It was shiny and firm, and had a fleshy purple stem.
"Ya serious? We're gettin' ripe fruit already?" Applejack asked incredulously.
"Well, Ah ain't never seen or heard of alien apples before, so Ah can't exactly say," Braeburn said dryly, "but all the other apples Ah saw were a lot smaller'n that, so Ah'm guessin' this one's an early bloomer. Probably the best we're gonna get fer a sample 'til the general harvest is ready."
Applejack tilted her head back and forth as she looked over the fruit, her extensive apple expertise finding no outward fault with it... aside from its color, anyway. Apples just weren't meant to be blue.
Still, the farmer shrugged and bit into the fruit without further delay.
Braeburn watched with intense curiosity as Applejack chewed, mentally preparing himself to dodge a sudden bout of projectile vomit or make a run for medical assistance if necessary.
Applejack swallowed her bite of apple, and then licked her lips. "Sweet. And Ah don't even think this one's really ripe yet. Not a hint of tart. Real crisp, too. Not very juicy, but that'll prob'ly change as it ripens." She took another big bite of the apple, and her face contorted uncomfortably as she chewed and gulped down the next mouthful. "Real tough core. No seeds, though. Which makes sense, what with there bein' no flowers." She popped the rest of the fruit into her mouth and ate it, stem and all.
"... Yeah, Ah think this'll sell," Applejack declared with a grin, "not much good fer bakin', Ah reckon, but it makes fer a fine raw apple. Bet we could make syrup from it, too."
"Well, all right, then!" Braeburn said, looking quite gratified and slightly relieved. "Only thing is, what do we call 'em?"
Applejack's expression turned serious as she considered this weighty matter. As far as she could tell, she was the only grower of this particular variety of apple in all the universe; Geth had explained that the gene-grafted fruits were completely new, largely untested, and that the Dark Mechanicus had no real interest in growing them itself; the Techpriests only wanted her family to keep extensive records on the plants and report it to them. Not only did this arrangement give her a solid monopoly on this product, but it left basic matters like the very name of the fruit in her hooves. It was up to her to shape the future of this apple breed, and by Celestia, she was determined to live up to the responsibility.
"Hmmm... well, Geth made 'em. Kind of. So mah first instinct is to name 'em after him."
Braeburn made a face. "'Geths'? Sounds alien, all right. Not like somethin' ya'd wanna put in yer mouth, though."
"Point. But playin' up the alien angle, we could call 'em 'void fruit'."
Braeburn nodded slowly. "Yeah, Ah could see that. The color is good fer that name, too. 'Bout the same as Princess Luna's coat."
Applejack's eyes widened. "Luna! That's it!" She grinned and beckoned to the impact crater below, covered as it was by thick, massive spikes of vegetation. "From here on out, I dub these here fruits 'blue moon apples'!"
"Hey! That ain't too shabby!" Braeburn agreed.
"Ya mark mah words, Braeburn!" Applejack declared proudly. "By this time a year from now, these apples will be so famous that anypony usin' the phrase 'once in a blue moon' will be met with confused stares and awkward silence!"
"That's..." the stallion trailed off, furrowing his brow. "That's kind of an... obtuse goal, actually."
A heavy stomping approached from behind, and Applejack glanced behind her.
Crabapple was walking down the path toward Ponyville, its chassis lurching up and down while its massive, crab-like legs carried it along the dirt road. Its claws were curled up under its main cannon in a rest position, and Applejack saw that Apple Bloom was sitting next to the Defiler's sensor head, which was concealed behind a grinning mask of gold.
"Bye, Sis! Ah'll be back fer dinner!" Apple Bloom waved a hoof as she was carried away down the road.
"Remember! Home before dark!" Applejack yelled to be heard over the sound of Crabapple's massive, shifting limbs. "And don't let none of those Nurgle cultists touch ya!"
"Yeah, okay! Bye!"


Applejack shook her head sadly as Crabapple departed, leaving a thin trail of smoke and numerous gouges in the dirt behind it.
"Ah worry about that filly. If she comes down with somethin' nasty, then she won't be able to work the farm no more. Considerin' that them Nurglites don't ever really recover from their diseases."
Braeburn nodded mutely, watching the war machine stomp off toward the town.
"Aw, well. 'Least she got Crabapple with 'er. It'll keep her safe," the orange mare said before she adjusted her hat again.
Braeburn looked over at Applejack, then back at Crabapple. Then he looked at Applejack again.
"So, Cuz... did anypony ever find out why Crabapple is-"
"Naw," Applejack interrupted with a shrug, "trust me on this one, Brae. Ya just wanna let that one lie."
"... All right, Cuz."


****


Ferrous Dominus - sector 20, Nightwatch


Gaela silently observed the halls of the Nightwatch tower interior as she strode purposefully toward her next job, staring with unusual intensity and purpose. Her augmetic took frequent pict-captures of the decorations and embellishments that had been added to the bare halls, noting with great interest the stark contrast with what she had seen from other ponies.
Gaela wasn't very well-briefed on the cultural differences between bat-ponies and the other varieties, but she was vaguely aware of some sort of social schism between the nocturnal equines and the rest of the Equestrian kingdom. She initially wasn't at all interested, but she found herself thinking more on the topic as she looked over the trinkets hung on iron chains or hooks on the walls.
Obviously, there were plenty of banners and stone sigils bearing Luna's cutie mark, or some other variation of the moon. But there were also bone trinkets and fetishes, with a heavy emphasis on teeth. Mainly Ork tusks, as those were now quite abundant and also quite relevant as hunting trophies, but there were plenty of teeth and skulls from other creatures, both big and small, either hung from leather straps or mounted on plaques. It was a surprisingly macabre way of dressing one's home, and doubtless one that would have left Rarity swooning in disgust.
Her gaze tracked up to a pair of hoofblades mounted on a battered shield, and she stopped to observe them more closely. They were crude bronze, and shaped in the manner of those races that managed to learn to work metal to make weapons without really grasping the concept of using those skills to make tools to make much better weapons. Obviously these were blades that still had some personal value to one of the residents after being swapped out for something that could actually puncture an Ork's flesh without shattering. Not a concept Gaela had any sympathy for, but such ideas were a symptom of a warrior culture, something she saw little of among Ponyville and Canterlot. Fascinating.
A door slid open behind her, and two Lunar Guards emerged from their quarters before stopping short at the sight of the Dark Techpriest.
"Uh... hi. Can I help you?" one batpony asked awkwardly. They didn't get many humans up in their tower, apparently.
"No," Gaela said curtly. She turned away from the hanging weapons and started walking down the hall again, not bothering to actually look at the winged equines or explain her presence.
"Hmph. Rude..."


Reaching her first destination, Gaela stopped in front of a room at the end of the hall. Draped over the front door was a flag showing Equestria's national symbol, with the two alicorns circling the sun and the moon (in complete defiance of their respective orbital relevance). Next to it was the Iron Warriors' own standard that bore the Iron Skull. It was the only symbol she had found thus far in Nightwatch relating directly and specifically to Chaos and the 38th Company.
Again, fascinating.
She had other tasks to attend to, however. She checked the room's access log to confirm that it was occupied, and then sent a signal to inform the occupant he had a visitor.
A few seconds later, she heard the sound of rapid hoofsteps nearby, and then the door slid open.
"Lieutenant Dusk Blade," Gaela began, her tone completely flat and inscrutable, "greetings."
Dusk blinked in surprise as he beheld the heavily armored cyborg in front of him. "Uh, hi. You're Miss-sorry, I mean, Dark Techpriest Gaela, right?" He ran a hoof over his mane, trying to smooth it out a little. It was late enough that she hadn't woken him up, but he still hadn't been expecting company.
"Affirmative. I am here to deliver a response to your latest effort in your utterly banal pursuit of romantic relations with Twilight Sparkle." Gaela's voice was perfectly disinterested, as if she were discussing dropping off a box of parts or a newspaper.
Dusk Blade straightened immediately, grinning. "Yes! What is it? What did she say?"
Gaela's boot impacted the stallion hard in the chest, lifting him off his hooves and throwing him into the air. Dusk yelped painfully as he slammed his back into his reading chair and then collapsed onto the floor.
"Uhah... wugh... W-Why?" the Lunar Lieutenant gasped out painfully, trembling under the merciless gaze of the Dark Techpriest.
"Sparkle objects to the exploitation of forced labor in the course of seeking relations with her. If it is any consolation, I personally find nothing objectionable about your methods." Gaela paused. "It seems you've suffered some skeletal fractures. You should see that they are tended to before you are deployed again."
Dusk coughed painfully, spitting a small splash of blood onto his floor. Then he stared up at Gaela weakly. "Did she... like the flowers?"
"She DID like the flowers," Gaela admitted.
Dusk sighed and dropped his head down onto the floor. "... Worth it."
"I am pleased that this matter has been resolved to your satisfaction," Gaela said, not sounding particularly pleased at all, "goodbye."


Gaela headed back down the hall again, noting that several more batponies were about and poking their heads out of their dwellings.
The thestrals were an oddity, and despite living in Ferrous Dominus as long as anypony else they still tended to treat the forces of Chaos with a sense of unease and coldness that was entirely sensible and intelligent. Few had seen a Dark Techpriest up close, and some of them openly gawked at her as Gaela reached the stairwell passage that led to her next stop. It wasn't necessarily a reaction that she enjoyed, but it was more rational than the happy and oblivious cheer that most other ponies greeted her with.
She ascended the stairs, and then reached the heavy double-doors that led to the shining crown of Nightwatch and the residency of its most powerful occupant. Perhaps the most powerful individual in all of Ferrous Dominus, although she would never admit such a thing out loud.
With a thought, Gaela alerted the room's occupant to her presence. Moments later the heavy blast doors started grinding open.
"Dark Techpriest! 'Tis an honor and a pleasure to greet thee this fine evening!" Luna said, beckoning her in with a wing as the doors finished opening. "Enter, please!" She was smiling widely, and was not wearing her daemon armor.
Gaela couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow as she walked into Luna's quarters. It always baffled her how different the dark alicorn was from her sister.
"We art most pleased thou couldst attend to us so promptly! Thy peers seem most reluctant to assist us here in Nightwatch!" Luna giggled, as if the lingering resentment of the Dark Mechanicus were an amusing joke.
"I had another errand on the way," Gaela explained, slightly put off by the alicorn's bubbly mood, "as for my peers, Dark Magos Kaelith is of the opinion that we have performed far more favors to your Lunar Guard than are likely to be repaid. It is a matter of internal politics, largely."
"We shalt prove him wrong in time," Luna said with a mild snort, "in any case, We were just about to break our fast. Dost thou wish to join us, or shalt We show thee the device that hath ceased function?"
It suddenly occurred to Gaela that she could hear a sizzling noise coming from the kitchen unit that was attached to Luna's quarters (an extravagant amenity, as far as the Company was concerned). Taking a step to the side so that she could see past a dividing wall, the Dark Techpriest saw none other than Big Macintosh making apple pancakes on the stove.
Strange.
The cyborg stallion turned toward her and nodded briefly, but remained characteristically silent. No explanation of his presence seemed to be forthcoming.
"Show me the damaged terminal," Gaela decided, "I must see to my own rest cycle once I am done here."
"Indeed!" Luna shouted, trotting toward her bedroom.
"Also, you can stop shouting," Gaela mumbled as she followed the dusky Princess further inside.


Once she entered the bedroom, Gaela looked over to the alcove that held Luna's personal cogitator console. The surface of the console controls was smashed in, and the monitor surface was badly cracked.
Gaela frowned slightly deeper than normal. "How did this damage come about?"
"A chair was flung through the room and struck it," Luna explained, "our apologies. 'Twas an accident."
The Dark Techpriest stepped over to the console, staring intensely at the damage. "And how did a chair come to be 'flung' through the air at such velocity? Do you make a habit of throwing furniture?"
Luna's happy mood started to cool somewhat, and she coughed as her eyes darted back and forth. "The details art not important. A chair was... in the way, and We kicked it. 'Twas a mistake, clearly, and We regret our haste."
"Hmph." Gaela leaned down in front of the machine and started shifting her servo arms into position to remove the damaged pieces. "I have arranged via the noosphere for a servitor to deliver replacement components here. I will begin checking the main processors and data cache and see how much damage has been done to the logic engine. You may go."
Luna paused, somewhat confused by the utterly dismissive tone of the Dark Techpriest. She certainly wasn't used to being spoken to so bluntly, as if she were a client just like any other. The mare's expression was thoughtful as she turned away and headed into the dining room.


Luna sat down on a cushion before a small round table, still looking up at the ceiling in quiet contemplation. Before long, Big Macintosh emerged from the kitchen with a plate held firmly in his teeth. The plate was piled high with pancakes, while a bowl of syrup was balanced expertly on his back.
"Techpriest Gaela is a strange one, is she not?" Luna asked, immediately launching into conversation. "She truly thinks to treat me as she would any mere soldier or worker. It seems the Astartes are the only figures outside her order that she treats with any modicum of respect."
"Eeyup," Mac offered his traditional wisdom once his mouth was clear of obstruction.
"We find ourself intrigued rather than offended, however," Luna mused, "such an attitude is rare, even among a species that looks down on ponykind. Most others of the 38th Company seem wary of us. We suspect they fear our power, or resent Father's favor toward our Lunar Guard."
Big Mac started heading back to the kitchen, but then paused and turned his head back to the Princess. "Whose favor?"
Luna blinked. "Warsmith Solon's. Did We misspeak?"
Big Mac watched her silently for several seconds. "... Nnope," he finally decided, turning and entering the kitchen again.
Satisfied that any previous confusion was resolved, Luna continued. "Especially among the Dark Mechanicus, We art disliked. Yet Techpriests Gaela treats us with the same mild disdain as she does most others. She cares not for our favor, nor doth she fear our disapproval, and she holds our titles and status in contempt. It is..."
Luna trailed off as Big Mac returned with two glasses of milk balanced on another plate in his mouth.
"Well, not 'refreshing', per se, but 'tis interesting, certainly."
Big Mac placed the glasses down and then took his own position opposite the alicorn.
Luna's magic went to work immediately, and pancakes started floating apart into two smaller stacks as an oozing rope of syrup flew from the bowl to land on their breakfast. The pancakes fell onto the ponies' plates, and Luna grinned widely as a fork and knife were taken up in her magical grip.
"As ever, thou hast our deepest gratitude, Macintosh! We only wish We had known earlier that thy skills extended to the culinary arts!" Luna chuckled. "We find ourself ever more grateful for thy company!" Her expression turned more suggestive as she fluttered her eyelids at the farmer across from her. "And We hope to enjoy it again come the morn, if thee would see us off to rest."
"Eeyup." The stallion's red coat couldn't completely hide a rosy blush as he took up his knife in his teeth to begin eating.
"EEEEEEEYAAAAAAAH!!!"
Luna and Mac both jolted in shock at the sound of a horrified shriek coming from the bedroom, and their eyes met only briefly before they bolted from the table and rushed to the door.


Luna's horn was already pulsing as she prepared to summon her armor, and after the dark alicorn jumped into her sleeping chambers her eyes swept the room from one side to the other.
There was nothing. No enemies. No obvious breaches or damage, either.
Seeing no foes that needed to be vanquished, she cautiously glanced over to Gaela, who was laying on the floor and trembling visibly. Big Mac was standing next to her protectively, but his eyes were focused on the broken monitor of the cogitator and his jaw was hanging open in shock.
Well, actually, the monitor wasn't completely broken, apparently. Despite the cracked screen, it was still able to display a vid-capture.
A vid-capture of Luna and Big Macintosh. In bed. And not sleeping.
"Is THIS what prompted such alarm?" Luna asked incredulously, holding out a hoof toward the noiseless video. "We had thought an enemy had infiltrated our quarters!"
"Wh-What..." Gaela sputtered as she rose to her feet. Her face was quite pale, and she shuddered as she looked away from the console she had been aiming to fix. "What IS THIS?!"
Luna arched an eyebrow. "'Tis exactly what it appears to be, Dark Techpriest. How did thee come to view this, precisely?"
"I was... checking the vid-capture footage... checking... how you damaged... the cogitator!" Gaela stumbled through her sentence while she held a bionic hand to the side of her head.
"Oh? We told thee how it occurred," the Princess said with a disapproving glare, "as We said, a chair was in the way, and We kicked it."
"Further context would have been helpful in avoiding this!" Gaela snapped. "Damnations! It's stuck in a feedback loop!"
Big Mac turned to Luna, his ears folded back and his head lowered in embarrassment. "Princess... ya RECORDED that?"
The alicorn shrugged. "There art recording devices all about Nightwatch, and our quarters art no exception. The Warsmith sees all that occurs in his domain."
Big Macintosh gulped. "Even... four days ago? With the... When we..." he trailed off and cringed.
Luna frowned. "Well... We imagine he doth not watch ALL the security vids. And surely he hath entirely scholarly interests at heart. We art certain we can trust the Warsmith with such footage!"


****


Ferrous Dominus - Solon's Forge


"So then, the Space Wolf rips off the heavy bolter, right?" Discord giggled as he spoke, barely able speak through his snickering as the surrounding daemons hung onto every word. "And then-And THEN! He clubs Solon right across the FACE with it!" Discord cackled loudly and slapped his reptilian knee. "Solon - I swear on the Four this is true - he SPINS completely around from the impact! Spun like a top! It actually made him dizzy!"
Solon sighed while the daemons crowding around him and Discord started bellowing in laughter, with some of them pointing at him while holding their gut (or guts, in the Plaguebearers' case).
"I don't shupposhe you want to tell them about the thirty or sho Grey Huntersh I killed with no difficulty during that engagement, do you?" the Chaos Lord asked dryly.
Discord's laughter trailed off to a chuckle. "Well, I would, but-"
"Hey, everydaemon!" Pinkie Pie suddenly shouted, poking her head out of a data alcove. "Lookie lookie! I found Shmithy's pony porn files!"
"Break time!" Vinyl Scratch announced immediately, quickly setting her dirge player to auto-shuffle and galloping away toward Pinkie.
"... My what?" Solon asked in confusion.
The daemons in the room were all staring at him; some with disgust, some with knowing smirks, and some with horrific rictus grins that really weren't capable of forming different expressions.
"... No, sherioushly, what ish she talking about?" Solon repeated, wondering why Discord was wiggling his eyebrows at him.


****


Ferrous Dominus - sector 20 Nightwatch


"And really, Astartes take no interest in such things anyway. It shalt come to naught!" Luna insisted, nodding her head decisively.
"Omnissiah save me," Gaela gasped, her augmetic hands clamped over her face, "it's in my memory core! It's replaying on my augmetic! Make it STOP!"
Big Mac looked worried, but Luna seemed annoyed instead.
"Forsooth, We art surprised at thee, Techpriest," she said as she raised her head higher, "is this imagery truly so horrifying to thee, who hast fought alongside the horrors of Chaos?"
"AFFIRMATIVE!" Gaela blurted, falling to her knees. "Augh! I can hear it, too!"
Mac slapped a hoof over his face, wishing he could just vanish into the floor. Or at least help Gaela somehow. He knew very well how loud Luna got when she was 'excited'. She had to cast soundproofing spells on the walls just to keep from alerting the rest of the tower.
Luna snorted, her eyes narrowing. "We will hast thee know We art ashamed of nothing!" the Princess said sharply. "What thou art witnessing is an act of love! It is a thing of beauty!"
"It's a looping vid of two drooling animals rutting like Slaaneshi whores!" Gaela growled, holding the sides of her head and gasping. "By the Gods, how can you still walk?!"
"C-Can Ah help somehow?" Big Mac asked nervously. Gaela's obvious disgust aside, he was quite uncomfortable with having a vid-capture of his raunchy activities literally stuck in the woman's head.
"Turn off the console!" Gaela demanded. "Disrupt the exload feed!"
Luna, who still felt the cyborg was being desperately overdramatic, glanced over at the cogitator. "The controls art still broken."
"Then break the rest of it!" Gaela shouted.
Big Mac's augmetic leg lashed out toward the console without hesitation, caving in the main engine housing and cracking most of the more sensitive components to bits. Sparks and broken glass blasted from the monitor, and Gaela suddenly sucked in a deep breath as the feedback loop in her optical finally ceased.


An exceptionally awkward silence descended upon the trio as Gaela remained kneeling on the floor, her breath heaving and her eye blinking repeatedly.
"... Doth it truly disturb thee so greatly to see a pair of non-human creatures in copulation?" Luna asked, furrowing her brow. She had expected Gaela to be totally insensitive to such things, honestly.
The Dark Techpriest slowly pushed herself to her feet. "Negative," she said through clenched teeth as she tapped at her optical augmetic, "it disturbs me greatly to see ANY creatures in copulation. Humans included." Gaela very deliberately avoided eye contact with the other ponies while she staggered toward the exit. Her face was still quite pale, and she was suppressing the urge to vomit. "Absolutely revolting."
"Revolting or not, breeding 'tis a rather necessary 'evil,' is it not?" Luna asked with a sarcastic edge.
"It is a crude, wretched curse of biology that humanity will learn to transcend as we march ever closer to mechanical union and singularity," she hissed, speaking with unusual vehemence.
Even Big Macintosh was giving her a strange look by now, so the Dark Techpriest took a deep breath and straightened up. "But that is irrelevant at the moment. I will see to replacing your entire cogitator tomorrow." She was still facing away from the ponies, toward the door.
"Very well," Luna sighed, letting the matter drop, "and We would ask that thou tell no one of what you saw here. As We said, We art not ashamed, but if it were to become rumor it would cause unnecessary complications."
Gaela shuddered. "You needn't worry." She headed back out into the halls, mumbling under her breath. "I should probably ensure that bed is incinerated, too. Can't possibly be sanitary..."


"...... What a strange woman," Luna said once the door to the halls closed shut.
"...... Eeyup," Big Mac agreed.
"...... Well, then. Pancakes!"


****


???


"Everybody down! Artillery!" Twilight shouted before her horn flashed.
A shield bubble of shimmering purple coalesced around the cluster of Iron Warriors and the armored alicorn in the middle, sealing them within a protective bubble. The Chaos Space Marines stopped shooting immediately, and most fell to one knee as they took the opportunity to reload and check their vox systems.
Then the barrage hit.
Twilight grunted as earthshaker artillery rounds hammered her barrier, and a strangled whine escaped her lips as her shield dome collapsed among the flame and smoke. Needles of red immediately started raining against the barricades again, followed by the odd plasma bolt or grenade round.
"This isn't working!" Twilight declared, deploying her force harmonizer into shield mode and setting it forward. Several Iron Warriors stood up and started shooting back, including the unit's missile launcher, but Twilight knew that they couldn't win the firefight between artillery barrages.
"We need to destroy the artillery battery! We're relocating!" the purple Princess shifted her harmonizer shield further forward as she stood up on a pile of sandbags and searched for a good teleport location.
"Okay! There! We can-"
The exitus round came from her right side, behind the shield, and from an angle Twilight never saw coming. Blood sprayed onto the sandbags in a thin fan as the bullet passed through one side of the mare's helmet to the other, and after a moment Twilight slumped onto her side.
"Awww..." the dead alicorn moaned before her body started to flicker and fade away.


"Consarn it, they got Twi!" shouted Applejack and she galloped across a stretch of cratered ground littered with razor wire and corpses. She paid neither obstacle any heed; the bladed metal scraped uselessly against her outer plating and was wrenched apart as she ran, while the bodies of the fallen were crushed mercilessly under the weight of her greaves. Lasblasts zipped all around her and a great many struck Applejack's body, sizzling against the ceramite shielding like boiling rain.
A heavy bolter stitched across her path, sawing through the dirt in front of her. One of the fist-sized bolts crashed into Applejack's shoulder pad, and she felt a deep jolt through her armor frame.
Still, the apple farmer powered forward through the hail of fire. And then, moments later, she reached the trenches.
"Nothin' personal, fellas!" Applejack shouted before she unleashed her heavy flamer into the fortifications. A dozen men died in seconds, consumed by flames and then thrown back into the teeming mass of Imperial Guardsmen below.
"FOR THE EMPEROR!!" bellowed a Sergeant, his power sword crackling as he sprinted forward through the smoke.
A quick pulse from the gravity lash stopped him dead in his tracks, and the man's eyes bugged out while his legs quivered painfully in place.
"Whatever ya say, cowboy," Applejack said, igniting her main weapon again. The Sergeant and four other men behind him were instantly awash in fire, and the squad leader's power sword clattered into the dirt at Applejack's feet.
"Y'all tell yer 'Emperor' that if'n he wants ta save y'all, he'd better hurry and git down here!" Applejack barked as she strode onto the scorched ground, blasting flames ahead of her.
A krak grenade suddenly landed on her back, and the farm pony yelped when her armor shook furiously from the blast. A diagram of her suit damage flickered onto her visor, but Applejack quickly banished the report and turned around, being much more interested in the cause of the attack.
"Horseapples!" Applejack managed to spit out right before a yellow metal boot crashed into her helmet. She was thrown into the wall of the trench from the impact, and before she could recover she found herself pinned in place by an enormous humanoid in yellow power armor.
"Daggum Space Marines!" Applejack growled as the Imperial Fist grabbed onto one of the tusks of her helmet. She struggled to shoulder the larger warrior aside and free up room to kick him, and her armor servos strained desperately while she pushed herself away from the wall of dirt and plasteel plates.
"The Emperor shall see you to your final resting place, xeno filth," the Imperial Fist spat, twisting Applejack's head up by her helmet's tusk.
"Ah'll show ya where ya can shove yer dang Empe-"
The farmer didn't manage to complete her threat before a combat knife plunged into the gap between her helmet and gorget, piercing the tough plasteel banding protecting her neck. A second, third, and then a fourth stab followed the first, and blood oozed onto the blackened ground as the Astartes dug his blade in to its hilt.
Then he pulled the knife free and shoved Applejack's body aside, snorting after it collapsed into a heavily armored heap.
"The Emperor's judgment is more than you deserve, alien. Your kind are beneath contempt," rumbled the yellow Space Marine as he took up his boltgun again, "be grateful you are so blessed."


****


Applejack growled as her body rematerialized, depositing her on a tall ridge overlooking the trench network she had been attacking.
"That was really good, Applejack!" Twilight Sparkle congratulated her friend eagerly after the apple farmer appeared, trying to lift her spirits. "You got much further than I did!"
"Yeah, Ah guess," Applejack grunted as she wheeled around toward her squad leader, "Ah just wish..." she trailed off as she saw Rarity lying down behind Twilight.
"Sniper," Rarity answered the unspoken question, "probably the same one that got Twilight. I simply can't figure out where that ruffian is hiding!"
"Ugh. That's rough." Applejack spotted a flicker of distorting light to her side, and after a moment Rainbow Dash materialized next to Twilight.
"GAH! Stupid Space Marines!" the pegasus yelled, stamping a boot onto the ground. "It really sucks when they're bad guys!"
"You mean it sucks when they're good guys," Twilight corrected, "the Imperial Fists are the non-corrupted Astartes that haven't betrayed their creators and citizens like the Iron Warriors did."
"Yeah, whatever. The point is, I like the other kind of Space Marines way better," Rainbow grumbled, disengaging her helmet so that her scowl was more apparent.
"Fighting Imperial armies is quite different from fighting the Orks, isn't it?" Rarity mused. "We may have to change our approach."
A distant explosion came from behind the Imperial lines, and the four ponies glanced over the ridge at the detonation. More explosions ripped through the enemy's artillery tanks, and flaming meteors started pouring into the defender's ranks from above.
"Well, at least Luna's having fun," Rainbow mumbled as her flight pack trembled, "how long until we deploy again?"
Twilight glanced at a display counter on her visor. "It should be just twenty more-"
A loud blaring noise suddenly assaulted her ears, cutting her off. "Whoa! What is that?" she asked, cringing.
Rarity and Rainbow Dash were each wincing just like she was, but Applejack looked confused.
"What's what?" the earth pony asked, looking back and forth.
The noise sounded like an alarm klaxon, and the noise pierced the noise filters of Twilight's autosenses while she quickly searched for any noosphere messages or indicators. "What's with the alarm? Is something wrong?"
"Hey, are we going to get a boss fight now or something?" Rainbow asked, looking excited.
Applejack frowned. "Ah don't know what y'all are talkin' about. Ah don't hear no alarm."
Twilight found that quite puzzling, and quickly linked up her vox to Solon's channel.
"Warsmith, what's going on? Is the simulation breaking down?" She could swear her vision was starting to get fuzzy as the blaring became even sharper.
The vox's returned only static, and even that seemed to peter out while Twilight's senses started fading. "Solon? What's happening?! What-"


****


Ferrous Dominus - sector 22 guard barracks


"-What's going on?!" Twilight shouted, snapping her head up.
Spike yelled in surprise and jumped back, and then ended up tripping on a stack of dataslates lying on the floor. "Ow! Geez, Twi!"
Twilight's thoughts were fuzzy as she took in her new surroundings. She was in her room again, having been ripped out of Solon's dream simulation. That was fine. Although it was still way too early for her to be up, if her wall chronometer was any indication.
Most importantly, though, was that the blasted alarm klaxon was still as loud as ever, even though all the other sounds from the simulation had disappeared along with the dream world.
Warning! growled an automated voice from the vox caster above. Xeno warships have been detected in high orbit! All crews to battle stations!
"T-Twilight?" Spike got up as the alicorn's expression became one of intense concentration. "Do you know what's happening?"
Twilight didn't answer him, turning her gaze onto the small vox caster set into her room cogitator. Her eyes narrowed at it, as if she was daring it to speak again.
Warning! Enemy void craft have been engaged! High possibility of orbital bombardment! All crews, to battle stations!
"That's..." Twilight's voice cracked, and her mouth felt totally dry as she croaked out the rest of the sentence. "... That's impossible..."
Enemy assault craft have been launched! Ground contact imminent! the vox caster barked. All crews, to battle stations! This is not a drill!