They took me in with scarcely a second glance. Errant explorers were common of the 'Wild Fringes', apparently - and disturbingly, they even offhandedly mentioned there were plenty of other species mucking around out here. It was a lot, even compared to yesterday.
The introductions had passed so fast, and my answers so vague and generic, I hardly remembered walking through the walls. I did remember, however, constantly thinking the Emperor protects over the past few hours. The holy phrase was still ringing in my head, oddly comforting. Oddly? Of course it was comforting, more then that, the Emperor's name was inspiring.
Oh, God, that pony's looking at me-
Thank the Emperor. It's gone. Nothing to see here, xenos.
I'd taken a seat beside the door a half-built shack, no builders in sight at midday. No tools, either. Abandoned in the midst of an otherwise dynamic community. The historian in me balked at the sight of the many and varied species around me, mostly ponies alongside a smattering of fantastical races. The Emperor-fearing servant in me bristled at the sight of so many xenos. Still, there was absolutely nothing to be gained by being anything other than quiet and observant.
For now, at least, praise unto Him on the Throne.
I took stock of the situation. I'd been taking stock for the past few hours. I wasn't getting anywhere, and my stomach pained me. I looked around at the xenos around me and opened a packet of nutri-sludge.
They were Victorian. That much was certain. I knew of the show, distantly, but this was different - suits and petticoats, roughshod adventurers and dandies. Mostly suits, though - suits and dirty, timeless working clothes for the earth ponies. Earth ponies, yeah, it made sense. I was remembering a bit.
And the technology was fascinating. I only saw snippets, and I was doubtless far from real civilization - such that passed for civilization in these xenos - but it was intricate, archaic, monolithic...
It was less than steampunk, heh, goodness knows the people at the convention obsessed with that would be disappointing. Emperor's grace, my lasgun was more advanced. The single steam engine seemingly powered a belt disappearing into the apparent town hall, a less rickety and somewhat larger structure in the center of everything. Smoke billowed out of the smokestack, but I could see the machine through an open door, valves and piping and an open boiler ponies heaved wood into. Xenos flew overhead. Cuffs and buckles and stiffly arrogant postures from the few horned xe- uh, unicorns. Right.
I should have been amazed by alien life, by technology, mannerisms, and langauge so disturbingly familiar, if aged - but all I could see was the sparkling magic, the sorcery and abomination before His will. The glory of the Imperium of Man, I knew all about that from the wiki - the past glory, the faded gilding and bloody struggle for survival. A shell of what once was unthinkable technology, near wizardry or sorcery in its appearance, so advanced it was - the damned stuff of the Warp superseded by human hands.
Of course a humble PDF trooper of Haufen didn't know about the Warp and the forsaken damnation of Chaos. What I did know of was the magnificent Capital spire on Haufen, a relic of astounding technological advancement that was suspended above the sprawling hab-blocks and manufactorums of the central hive city - or the Indomitus Imperialis Gloria, an immense crash site for a ship from just before the Horus Heresy, a wonder of technology that scrappers still explored, and were mostly killed by dread beasts or ancient defense systems. That was near my hometown, the outer Demi-Manufactorum Trete.
I mean, my character's hometown. That no one had asked about.
~
Night fell, and with the darkness came the roaring - safely outside the palisade. I tensed up nonetheless, and made sure my lasgun was ready. I hadn't cleaned it in a day, contrary to the advice of The Uplifting Primer. It would be a good activity to sleep by - to do with utmost devotion to the machine spirit of my lasgun. I didn't want it to fail on me in some distant land.
I wasn't planning on staying here. Merciful Emperor, I'm tired. Merciful Emperor, one of the xenos are walking toward me!
It was a younger one, with a bright grin and an eager countenance, well dressed by the light of the gaslights. Real, genuine gaslights. Perhaps the authorities wanted information on the newcomer - the xenos were spying on the human, coming on with a grin and dagger behind their back. There was no reason to trust these pseudo-Victorian buffoons, and plenty of reasons to have utter disdain and suspicion.
"Hey, mate!" the pony said, one of the fliers.
Or, perhaps the pegasus was a fresh-faced adventurer with some curiosity to my costume.
My uniform. "What do you want?" I said curtly.
"Well, I've never seen something quite like you," he said. Well, maybe it was just curiosity. "All the old chaps here don't pay newcomers any attention, but you look special! I never read in a book about a creature quite like you. What do those symbols mean? Imagine if you're a new species! I'd be celebrated in every institute of learning-"
He droned on, I scowled, my expression apparently hidden under the shadow of my helmet's rim. Emperor-damned little prier, of course all he thinks about is rewards.
"-in this age of learning and exploration, I'd hardly be surprised if there are still barbarian civilizations out there, undiscovered, I mean, you look like a part of a greater society, you meet five of Mintel's Seven Characteristics of Societies-"
"Barbarian?" I interrupted coldly, and the pony stammered something while I continued. "The Emperor's service is not some savage tribal hierarchy of filth and brute, stupid strength. In Him is purpose. Much more beyond that, but from purpose springs everything, xeno."
He blinked, silent, staring. I blinked too, considering my words, automatic and without thought. Surely that was a tad much.
"Well, where are you from?" the pony asked, quietly. Cowed. Respectful.
"Darrington, Washington State," I replied without thought, "the forests here are beautiful, very much alike to my home in the daytime."
"That's nice. Fascinating, even! Tell me, what's the history of this place? Where's Washington State in respect to the Eastern Fringe? How far have you come? What's that?" he pointed at my lasgun.
I gritted my teeth. I wanted him gone, and telling him the truth, inadvertently be damned, hadn't helped at all. He'd been cowed when I mentioned the Emperor's name, though...
As all xenos should be. Praise be to his name. Ave Imperator.
"Ave Imperator," I mumbled.
"What's that?"
"Praise be to his name," I continued, deliberately louder but genuinely reverent, "the Emperor deserves all glory and honor."
"...an emperor?" the pony said, "Like, Celestia? You have an emperor as a ruler? The Griffons have an emperor."
"No. Not a ruler. A man, a God-Emperor. A god who sits upon the Golden Throne in eternal suffering and vigilance over the death-struggle of mankind. He watches over those who go before in his name in righteousness, and the Emperor protects," I glanced around, "even in this place."
"I- wow, uh, that sounds... monolithic. I could hardly imagine at what exists on the other side of our world," the pony said quietly, audibly unsettled.
"As for this," I gestured to my lasgun, picked it up, "this is but a tool of an Emperor, much like me, except with slightly less maintenance. I haven't properly venerated its machine spirit today, would you care to watch?"
"Sure," the pony said neutrally, still a spark of curiosity left at this late hour. I was counting on that. I'd read The Uplifting Primer's section on the lasgun many times today, aware of the necessity of keeping it clean. And satiated.
"The sacred unguent," I said, pulling a bottle out of my pack I'd found earlier," to anoint the barrel to placate the spirit of the weapon."
As I slowly dribbled the liquid onto the barrel, rubbing it around evenly with a few mumbled prayers, the pony looked on in visible unease. "It's just a machine," he muttered. I pretended not to notice. "That's just lubricating oil."
"Now, for the important part," I said, taking out The Haufen Trooper's Uplifting Primer and flipping to the appropriate page. "The Litany of Preservation."
"Machine Spirit of this holy weapon, in reverence to the Emperor I supplicate you the sacred unguent. May your workings be smooth and without fault in my deference to you. Let your function sing its praise to the Golden Throne and He who sits upon it. Glory be. I intoned, eyes closed.
I opened my eyes to find the pony very visibly befuddled, and not a little disturbed. 'It's a machine, not a god." We traded stares.
"In all things, before time was and till the end of all suffering and the Imperium's final triumph, the Emperor." I said, holding my gaze. The xeno looked away.
"Yes. Quite. Uh," he edged away, "merely a helpful warning, but worshiping a machine is hardly necessary to maintain its function - everypony knows that. They're advancement, hardly icons of adoration. That's for less hopeful times, stranger."
"Exalt the Emperor," I replied. He turned with a doubtful sigh. "Wait," I called.
"Huh?" he regarded me like a primeval savage.
"I have a question for you. How does one leave this place, and where might be a more civilized area?" I asked, as normally as possible.
"Uh," he mumbled, taken aback, probably expecting another 'archaic' litany of praise, "the mail airship makes its rounds, stops here. Scheduled for tomorrow, actually."
"Where does it lead? Perhaps a place of learning and culture?" I asked again, tilting my head, removing my helmet. I let him look into my eyes without a shadow over them, and see the intelligence. I hoped the xeno would wonder at my faith and intelligence side by side.
"Uh, I'd hardly call Marstown a center of civilization, but it's a port across from Equestria. It has a lot of offices and government. Some taverns, too."
"Sounds like my kind of place. Thanks." I said, and smiled. "May the Emperor protect."
"Yes. Thanks." he walked off, a little fast. I smiled. I never actually wished the Emperor's blessing upon the xeno.
That had gone better than expected. The Emperor's name was many-faced, but I felt so calm right now. Calm was perhaps a misleading word, not entirely accurate. I wasn't even thinking of the whole situation anymore, which was a vast relief. I was fairly content.
Thank the Emperor. I fell asleep quickly and got some good rest.