96 hours before Apple Bloom’s arrival.
9 711 999.M41-Unknown planet
Scootaloo gasped as air filled her lungs, only for it to suddenly leave as she hit the rocky ground.
Rolling, she spun as she bounced, flying downhill and landing between a few large rocks. Skidding to a stop in the sandy dirt, she finally came to rest against a large orange rock.
“Ow…” she moaned, before slowing getting to her hooves. Once she was back up, she looked up to wherever it was that she had gotten shot out from, cradling her head, only to see clear blue sky.
Groaning, she rubbed her head again, calling out. “Sweetie Belle? Apple Bloom? Are you guys here?”
She received no answer and turned around. And found herself staring at a gaggle of hunched, green-skinned creatures that stood almost a head taller than her. “Um…”
“Squig!” one of them yelled, pointing directly at her.
Scootaloo blinked, confused. However, as they drew crude knives and ugly forks she quickly got the gist.
“Bye!” she said before galloping away.
The small creatures followed, yelping and screaming, hunting her down.
“Git ‘er!” they screamed. “We’re gonna gob good tanoit!
Scootaloo ran. She didn’t know what exactly they were saying, but she really didn’t want to find out.
Running through what seemed to be a desert, she careened around a large, standing stone, and slid down yet another hill.
And straight into a much, much bigger, green-skinned monster with bright blue body paint.
Coming to a sudden halt as she ran into the bulging muscle of the monster’s leg, she looked up at him.
He looked back down at her with his small, beady, red eyes.
“Um...hi…” Scootaloo said.
The large thing blinked.
She gave it a weak and hopeful smile.
The large thing then brought up its arms. “Waaaagh!”
One of the massive arms, carrying a massive, crude, heavy blade, came down on her, and she leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding a rather gruesome fate.
“Great talking to ya, bye!” she said, galloping for her life.
“Waaagh!” the thing cried again, before beginning his chase of the small orange thing that had interrupted his standing there.
Scootaloo ran, rushing past crude caves made of twisted metal and rough-cut stone. Yet, as the cry of the monster began to echo around the valley it became incredibly clear that these caves were not empty. More and more of them began to emerge, their small, red, reptilian eyes blinking in the sunlight.
They quickly, however, caught sight of her.
“Get da git!” the cry went up, followed by a thousand shouts of that single battlecry. “Waaagh!”
Scootaloo did not look back.
Yet another green monster cut in front of her from around the corner, holding a strange, thick pipe in its hands.
Scootaloo shot between its legs, neither stopping nor slowing as she ran past him. “Sorry!” she cried. The monster turned, shouldering the end of his pipe before letting a barrage of fire loose on the retreating figure.
The rock next to Scootaloo exploded as massive bullets slammed into it, causing her to yelp in surprise before redoubling her efforts. “Not cool!” she yelled before the sound of another volley sounded behind her.
Diving to the side, she narrowly avoided another barrage, causing dust and sand to kick up into the air.
Taking a hard left, Scootaloo quickly began heading towards a small chasm made by two slanted metal walls.
About halfway in, she paused, and checked the walls once more.
She gave a smile, and leaped up, her wings buzzing to give her a sustained hover long enough to jump from wall to wall.
She was a pegasus after all.
---=][=---
Scootaloo stuck to the flat roofs of the crude, blue-painted metal houses, jumping from roof to roof while avoiding the occasional green guard.
Who posts guards on roofs, anyways?
Still, she had somehow managed to stay out of sight and had managed to do a good bit of scouting of her surroundings.
Apparently she had stumbled on a massive camp, one that was bigger than Ponyville.
All of Ponyville, Sweet Apple Acres included.
The camp was nestled in a shallow canyon that ran as wide as it was long, and was made almost entirely of these crude, flat-roofed buildings that seemed more slapped together than some of their Cutie Mark Crusader inventions.
There was something in the middle of the camp, though. In many ways, it seemed to be a tank, much like the armored, mobile cannons of Equestria, yet, this was far, far larger. It towered over the surrounding buildings, and it’s massive cannon was the length of a whole swimming pool.
The fact that it looked nothing like the rest of the construction around the camp was equally suspicious.
Still, that was not the main focus here.
Below her, on the now busy street, more of the massive green monsters searched for her. Speaking in their harsh, guttural tones and deep accent. “Oi! You found da grot yet?” one asked.
“Nah, the sneaky git’s ‘ard ta find.”
“Well ‘er ‘air is purple…” one said as if that mattered somehow.
“Roight,” the other said.
Scootaloo didn’t get it.
“Oi! Youz Boyz!” a third one said, coming if from another crooked street. “Git ta work findin’ da sneaky git!”
“Zog off, ya grot!” the first one said angrily.
“Yeah, we’re lookin’ for da git, why aren’t you looking for ‘er?”
“I am lookin’ for ‘er! Yer da ones flabbin’ your gobs aroun’ and standin’ there liok yer finkin’ or summin’.”
“Stuff ya gob!” the second one said, before using an overly large knife to pick through its massive teeth. “We’re workin’!”
“Ya better zoggin’ be workin’!” The third said before stomping off, leaving Scootaloo to try and interpret what they had just said.
Shaking her head, she figured that at the least, they were still hunting her. With that in mind, she needed to find the best way to get out of the camp without being noticed.
Poking her head back up to check the camp once more, she quickly made her plan. All she needed to do was skirt the edges of the camp, and come out the other side, avoiding the center, and...what was it, southern side? Yeah, she’d avoid the southern side altogether.
A buzzing began to sound, and she flicked her ears as she tried to focus and ignore it.
Then that buzzing began to get louder.
And it was coming from above her.
She looked up.
A massive, blue, smoke-belching monstrosity flew overhead, buzzing annoyingly as it did.
That wasn’t the problem though.
No, the problem was the green-skinned thing sitting inside of the flying machine, pointing down at her and yelling at the top of its lungs. “Dere’s da git! She’s on da roofs!”
Scootaloo said something that would get her grounded.
She leaped to the next roof as the green monsters began to climb.
Taking another leap to a third rooftop, she began to figure out her route to get out of the camp.
So far she was making great progress.
Until a massive, green, and blue hand gripped the edge of one of the roofs and leaping over the side. “I gotcha now!” the thing said with a grin.
Scootaloo took a hard right, heading straight for the center of the camp, but away from her pursuers. “You’ve got nothing!” she said back.
“Get da Shoota Boyz!” a voice said behind her as she leaped to the next building. “Shoot da git!”
Salvos of fire erupted behind her, tearing chunks out of the rough metal construction. Scootaloo kept her head down, hoping and praying that no one caught her.
She kept trying to pull back left, to head towards the edge of town, only for yet more monsters to sweep in and redirect her forwards toward the center.
She began to sweat as she ran, trying to find a way back over, but all she was met with was a wall of green.
She wasn’t getting a chance to move, and instead was getting closer and closer to the massive tank.
The streets were becoming alive with activity as more and more of the creatures began to swarm, along with massive machines and squealing monsters.
She kept running, chunks of metal flying into the air as the “Shootas” behind her kept shooting.
Another street flew by under her as she leaped, and her eyes went wide as she skid to a halt.
They had almost chased her directly to the center of the camp, and now there was a massive gap between her and the tank.
The street was swarming with green-skinned creatures, all calling for her blood.
She looked behind her at the wave of them coming at her.
She checked the gap.
She gulped.
Well, she had heard of some pegasi performing great feats of flying under stress.
And she was a pegasus.
She took a step back, spread her wings, screwed her eyes shut, and jumped.
---=][=---
Now sadly, the narrative must be broken for a moment, else the coming events seem all too wondrous and convenient.
The ork, spelled with a ‘k’, is a fungal creature that infests practically every corner of the galaxy, and while they appear to be simple creatures, they actually hide the greatest power of all.
The power of the Waaagh!
Which is spelled with at least three ‘a’s and an exclamation point.
The Waaagh! holds several meanings in the ork language, including a battlecry as well as the name of a great gathering of orks, but our focus shall be on the Waaagh! as a psychic field.
Orks generate a reality-altering field about them, which gets stronger the more orks are gathered.
All an ork needs to do is believe that something is true, and it will become true, becoming more true the more orks there are.
As an example, a widely held belief among orks is that red vehicles go faster than ones that are painted another color, thus, if there is a gathering of orks nearby, a red vehicle of two otherwise identical ones will, in fact, go faster.
Thankfully the orks are unaware of this power, and this alone keeps them from becoming the most powerful beings in existence. However, the reality alteration field is still very powerful.
An ork blade, while flimsy and worthless in the hand of a mere man, can cut through some of the galaxy’s strongest metals in the hands of an ork because he believes it will cut.
Ramshackle weapons and robots function on the basis that they believe it will work.
Covering yourself in blue paint will make you luckier, as blue is the color of luck.
Purple is the color of stealth, so a creature with purple hair must be sneaky.
And if a creature has wings, it must know how to fly.
---=][=---
Scootaloo’s wings caught the wind, and she soared.
She peeked an eye open when she realized she hadn’t hit the floor yet. She looked down and saw her shadow flying above the buildings below.
“I’m flying…” she said, stating the fact as if she didn’t believe it herself.
Still, she flew.
“I’m flying,” she said, a smile starting to grow on her face.
“I’m flying!” she yelled, screaming as she began to climb into the air. “Ha! You can’t catch me now!”
A dozen shootas answered with salvo after salvo of gunfire, firing into the air after her.
And Scootaloo laughed. She was flying and she was free, and there was nothing they could—
Her right wing erupted in pain as blood shot out of a fresh bullet wound, and she spun, falling to the ground.
Slamming into the dusty ground, she screamed, pain coursing through her small body before looking up at the howling monsters still on the roof. Ahead of her was the tank.
As adrenaline ran through her body, she quickly got back on her hooves, whimpering in pain as she moved.
She needed to get away.
She made her way to the massive treads, trying to climb up the massive tank, the monsters began to close in, getting closer and closer to her as she climbed.
“She’s roight dere!” one them yelled pointing with a massive cleaver.
Scootaloo kept climbing, tears in her eyes.
“Git ‘er!”
Finally pulling herself up on top of the front tank, Scootaloo began to head for the turret.
The monsters closed the gap, standing of the foot of the gargantuan tank, they were already beginning to climb it.
Scootaloo reached the turret and turned. There was no way to outrun them now.
She was going to die.
The monsters leaped over the edge, now standing between her and freedom.
It was too late.
“Oi!” A thunderous, deep voice said. “What’s you lot doin’ on my tank!?”
Suddenly two massive green feet slammed into the tank, just in front of Scootaloo, and she looked up to see the largest of green creatures she had ever seen.
And it was standing between her and the rest of them.
“I told you lot ta stay off my tank!” The big one roared, revealing the massive, three-fingered metal claw it had as a right hand.
“But boss!” one of the braver ones said, pointing at Scootaloo, “we’re chasing dat git roight dere!”
The massive monster turned, and glared at Scootaloo. Half of his face was scarred beyond recognition, and his left eye had been completely replaced by a shiny red lens. His lower jaw was armored, with a massive plate of steel riveted to the tough skin and bone of his lower face. Along his back rested a dozen pikes, each with a shaped metal plate that looked like it was some sort of banner, the largest of which was a massive blue skull.
It’s large, wide, flat nose snorted in disgust before he reached down for her and grabbed her with his massive, green, fleshy hand.
Three fully formed fingers wrapped around her while the other two, stubby fingers gripped as tight as they could. Lifting her limp form bodily in the air, the large creature brought her up to look him in his good eye.
Now, as the weak form of Scootaloo was lifted to face the warboss, and looked him in the eye, something changed.
Perhaps it was simply an overwhelming will to live.
Perhaps it was the proud, warrior blood of the pegasi awakening in her.
Perhaps it was none of these.
But as she glared at the thing with its tiny, beady eye, she felt her anger rise, and unleash a ragged, angry growl, before slamming a hoof into the thing’s massive metal jaw.
The large thing blinked, before throwing his head back in a laugh. “Bwahaha! You’ve all been runnin’ around chasin’ this git? Bwahaha!”
The others said nothing.
He set her back down on the tank before turning to the others.
“Alroight, now, which one of youz boyz made the shot that got ‘er.”
“Well that was me, Boss!” one of them said from the crowd.
“Really? Well, come ‘ere!”
The shoota pushed his way forward, standing in front of the warboss with pride.
And in an almost blindingly fast move, the warboss grabbed the shoota’s head in his claw and crushed it.
Blood sprayed upward in a shower of gore before the body fell backwards.
The warboss stepped forward. “I’m the biggest, I’m the strongest, so I’m the leader! And we’re Deff Skullz, so I get first pick of the loot! And she,” he said, pointing at Scootaloo with his claw, “is my loot! Do ya know happens when ya mess with Nabrot’s loot?”
The crowd stayed silent.
“Ya deal with Gork’s Other Foot!” he said, stepping on the great tank beneath him.
Silence met him.
“Understand!?” he asked, angrily,
“Yes, Boss!”
“Right, Boss!”
“You got it, Boss!”
“Good,” the Boss said. “Now get off my tank!”
The crowd quickly dispersed, leaping off the sides of the tank as though the devil were behind them. With another snort, the large ork then turned and picked up the small creature. “Let’s getcha to the Mad Doks, they’ll fix ya up.”
Scootaloo’s body went limp, and she felt weak from loss of blood. “W-why did you save me?” she asked.
“Cause even though yer smaller than a gretchin, you tried to take me on, and that was the most orky fing I ever sheen. That, and yer ‘air’s purple. I loike purple.”
Scootaloo nodded, tiered and weakening by the moment.
“But lissen now. Nabrot Stub-fingers loots everyfin’, but he only keeps fings that are useful ta ‘im. So, ya better git useful, ya git. Or I’ll gob mahself.”
---=][=---
The Mad Doks were half-ork, half-machine monsters that ran from Nabrot until he grabbed them by the neck and forced them to work.
“Fix ‘er, and fix ‘er good, or I’ll fix you,” were his simple instructions.
The Mad Doks took it to heart.
So it was, with great restraint, that the ork doks did not use their “stabby bits” to perform any experimental procedures, and instead, focused on fixing her wing using the medicinal properties of the Speckled Bloodshade Fungus.
Stuffing the ork spore mushrooms into her mouth, and sowing them into her wing like it was a skin graft, they performed the most minimal surgery they had.
By the end of it, the Mad Doks were confident that she would not only live, but she’d be able to fly again.
And if orks believed it, it would come true.
---=][=---
"Blessed is the mind too small for doubt."—Imperial Thought of the Day
Man, ork language is hard to write.
“Nah, it ain’t ya just weren’t tryin’ ‘ard enuf.”
Pinkie, stop.
“But it’s fun…”
Don’t care. Now, for the rest of you, I feel a need to apologize for the narration break when I explained the Waaagh! It’s just that it’s really hard to explain organically when no one really knows what’s going on.
“And you’re apologizing why?”
Cause I wish I could have done better.
“Ah…”
So, yeah, sorry.
“Hm...is that true though?”
What?
“The Wagh stuff.”
Three ‘a’s and an exclamation point, Pinkie. But yes, it’s true. Weird but true.
“Huh…this universe is weird.”
It is indeed.
“Alright, guys, we’ll see you all next time, bye!”
Bye!