Lazarus nursed a cup of recaff as he stared down on the admittedly pitiful number of recruits in the training room.
Caffeine was practically pointless to a Space Marine. They did not require sleep as mere humans did, and their Preomnor typically filtered it out of their food before it even reached their stomachs. But the serfs needed it, and because the Librarian had a weakness for the smell of freshly brewed recaff, he typically indulged in a cup every now and then.
He brought his attention back to the recruits, that were being instructed below. Most were men by many standards, while a small few were young still. The youngest was 12 and was about ready for his second round of implants.
And then there was Apple Bloom.
She had survived, and not only survived but had taken to her new secondary heart, Ossmodula, and Biscopea with amazing proficiency. The latter two had already begun their work, growing her bones and muscle mass so that she was already another 12 centimeters taller, and getting stronger by the day.
Lazarus sighed.
She had survived…
Beyond all reason, all logic, and all possible explanations, she had survived.
There were still 13 rounds of implants to go, but still, she had survived this one. There were men, far better men that had failed simply that. Yet she lived.
Chaplain Baltus paced along the line of recruits, staring down at them as he gave them one of their first lessons on combat.
He shook his head, and sipped his recaff once more.
How, by the throne, had she survived?
---=][=---
Baltus walked down the line, his face drawn into a scowl behind the death mask of his helmet. His massive right hand carried a mace that crackled with electric power, which he swung and pointed with as he addressed the recruits.
“You are not Space Marines,” Baltus said, swinging his Crozius Arcanum over the heads of the recruits. “You are not even worthy of being a scout for our chapter. You are hopefuls, and nothing more. And hope will fail you.” He paused, standing at the end of the line and glaring down at Apple Bloom.
She had learned after the first day that you look your Chaplain in the eye when he spoke to you, so she did, standing as straight she could, and too afraid of his wrath to shake.
He seemed pleased.
Baltus stepped away from the recruits, towards a table that sat nearby. He set his Crozius Arcanum down with a reverence that slightly confused Apple Bloom, but she didn’t dare speak up. With both hands free, he then lifted one of those cannons that Apple Bloom had seen when she had first arrived.
“This is a Holy Bolter,” Baltus said. “Specifically, it is the Standard Astartes Mark Vb Godwyn Pattern Boltgun. It is the largest and most devastating boltgun of its type. This variant contains a built-in ammunition counter, which will show you how many bolts remain in the sickle-pattern magazine. Each magazine holds thirty rounds, or bolts, which are .75 caliber, self-propelled explosive slugs which detonate upon puncturing the enemy. The Godwyn Pattern Boltgun has no stock, nor does it need one, as a Space Marine’s power armor will negate any recoil, and keep his aim steady. It is not used by the imperial guard, despite being obviously superior, because of both its heft, and its need for careful maintenance. In every other way, it is almost self-evident that it is far better than the Lasgun.
“The Godwyn pattern bolter has won billions of planets, exterminated the life of countless enemies, and has been used to deliver the Emperor’s Judgement and Peace across the galaxy. This is the Bolter.
“Now,” Baltus said, as he cradled the firearm in his hands, “what is a Sacred Bolter?”
One of the recruits on the end saluted. He stood, straight and proud with his nose slightly pointed in the air. “Sir! It is the weapon of the Adeptus Astartes! Sir!”
Baltus walked up to him. “Is that so?” he asked before his massive armored hand slapped him across the face, sending him sprawling and fracturing his jaw. “Wrong!” He yelled. “An Adeptus Astartes is his weapon.” He spun to the other recruits. “And that is why you are all going to become killing machines before you even think about touching a bolter!”
Baltus strode back to the table and set the bolter down before picking up a single sword-length knife.
“A bolter is a tool,” Baltus said as the recruit stood back up. “It makes your job easier. Just like a flamer, a power sword, or a knife.” He dropped the knife, point-first into the ground, and it stuck. “But before you can use that tool, you need to learn how to use your weapon. Stand and fight the man next to you, use your fists, your feet, legs, arms, nails, and teeth. Fight for the right to use this tool,” he said, before pointing to the knife.
The line of recruits erupted into chaos as each man turned on his neighbor. They transformed perfectly into a mound of violence as they punched kicked and bit at each other, ripping at each other to try and fight for the knife.
Apple Bloom stayed out of it.
“Damsel!” Baltus roared, pointing at her.
She jumped, and stared at him with wide eyes.
“I ordered you to fight! Now get in there!” He roared.
She nodded and gulped.
She had learned that disobedience was not something that was tolerated on this ship.
With another quick, deep breath, she leaped into the fray.
---=][=---
Lazarus shook his head.
This Xeno was such a coward, it sickened him. She wouldn’t fight, she barely obeyed orders, and the fear she radiated every single moment made him want to retch.
How was this pathetic little thing a gift from the Emperor when it could not even fight properly?
It was a mistake to save her.
He shouldn’t have bothered the Chaplains, and shouldn’t have even suggested the need to save her. Any concern over her well being should never have even crossed his mind.
Yet it had.
He cursed his sentiments. May they bring him a quick and early death for all the help they had done. Saving a pathetic xenos, what was he thinking? It matters not that she lived on a farm, and grew apples…on a planet where the sun shined and...the wind would carry the faint scent of fresh fruit and honey on the air…
He looked back down to the pile of human beings, and the single xenos as they now fought for a single blade.
He shook his head.
She wasn’t worth it. He should have put a bolt through her head as soon as he had seen her.
Even if he did enjoy seeing the never-ending sea of trees one more time...
---=][=---
The chaos that filled her head blinded her. Pain erupted on all sides as the other recruits battered against her. Nails and teeth dug into her sides and flanks as she was thrown through the mess, striking blindly and instinctively with her forehooves and teeth while she bucked uselessly in the air. Her mind spun, and could not grasp reality around her as everything transformed into agony.
She was suddenly thrown from the fight, followed by three more recruits, leaving only three standing. Two recruits were locked in a fight, while the third, one of the older boys whose organs had grown to be a towering 6’6”, charged her.
His shoulder rammed into her, forcing her back once more, and sending her flying past the knife. She hit the ground hard, rolling as she was sent landed from the blow.
Her attacker, meanwhile, approached, taking the knife by the hilt as he did so. “You are a disgrace,” he said, speaking directly to the little xeno.
Baltus took a step back, watching with interest.
Apple Bloom’s attacker held the blade up, pointing it at her and glaring with hatred as intense as the stars themselves. “You are weak,” he hissed, as the pony slowly got back up.
The fight quieted.
“I and every one of my brothers have fought and killed for a chance to be a Sky Angel. We have done everything we could for this chance becoming our worlds’ greatest warriors.”
Apple Bloom got up, and stared at her attacker, as did every other recruit.
He turned to them and spoke. “Did we not win our Blood Trials? Did we not earn our places here while she, this alien, was simply allowed in? Where is the justice in that? We have proven ourselves in battle, and what has she done? Nothing! She is nothing compared to us! She is a weak link in our chain, and must be purged!”
He then turned to Apple Bloom and leveled the blade at her. “And I will be the one to do it, and make us stronger. Know this, xeno. I am Ramiel, and I will destroy you!”
Destroy…
The word echoed in her mind. He wanted to destroy her…
He wanted to end her life. He wanted to kill her. He wanted to end the life she had sacrificed everything to save.
He wanted to destroy her.
Her eye twitched.
Ramiel yelled, charging as he swung the knife like a sword.
Apple Bloom dug her hooves into the ground and began to spin.
And she bucked.
Her hind legs made contact for the first time since her surgery, and Baltus could swear he heard thunder crack.
Ramiel felt his enhanced, bullet-proof bones crack and the knife slipped from his hands as his feet were lifted from the ground.
He flew backward, rocketing towards the far wall.
He met it with a meaty thump, before sliding to the ground in pain.
She spun again, ready to attack with hooves and teeth, only to blink as she stared at Ramiel who now lay on the other side of the room.
Silence met her.
She blinked, before scrambling over to the foot-long blade and grabbing it in her mouth.
No one else moved.
And that’s when Baltus laughed. Clapping, he shook his head and said “Well done, Damsel. Well done. Go get something to eat. You earned it.”
She nodded, still not entirely sure what had happened, but happy she didn’t need to stand in line anymore.
Baltus chuckled once more. “Before you go, Damsel,” he called.
She paused, turning to him, knife still hanging in her mouth.
He threw her a metal sheath, which clanged on the floor next to her. “Keep the knife.”
She nodded, taking them both, and heading out.
Baltus smiled behind his helmet and looked up to the Librarian on the catwalks above.
Lazarus stared, eyes wide and mouth agape.
Baltus laughed again.
---=][=---
He couldn’t believe it.
That...that strength was...inhuman…
That was the only word for it.
She sent that man flying, and he could feel the pain in him that spoke of broken ribs. But to break a Space Marine’s bones like that, without power armor at that…
There weren’t words for that...horrifying strength.
Her Biscopea, the organ responsible for increasing her muscle mass must’ve...must’ve been malformed...there was no way...no way for her to simply…
Perhaps...she was...a gift…
No! No! There was no way! She couldn’t…
She…
He needed another cup of recaff.
---=][=---
Apple Bloom was lost. Again.
The Omnis Arcanum was a maze of boring steel —sorry, Plasteel—corridors, that stretched from one end of the ship to the other. The labyrinthian layout was confusing at best, and downright malicious at worst.
She had, just the other day, left the training room, wandered for two hours, and then came back to the training room.
Now, at the very least, she knew she wasn’t heading back that way, but she still had no idea how to get to the cafeteria.
The knife, strapped to her back, clattered as she moved, trying to find her way and failing. Sighing, she moved down one of the other corridors, figuring that one was just as good as another. “Where in Tarnation is that corn-shuckin’, worm-eatin’, pig-feedin’ cafeteria!?” She half-yelled, half mumbled to herself as she turned a corner, and ran straight into a wall of armor.
Tonk!
Shaken from her thoughts, Apple Bloom suddenly found herself staring up at a massive marine, his armor blood red, and his helmet colored bone white.
“Um...Ah’m...sorry, sir...” she offered.
“Hm,” the marine said. “So you must be the xeno that Lazarus found.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” she answered quietly.
He looked down at her, and the knife along her back. “Where did you get that blade?” he asked.
“Sir, Chaplain Baltus said Ah should keep it, sir.”
“Did he?” the marine asked with a smile behind his helmet.
“Sir, yes, sir,” she answered.
He nodded, before speaking again. “Where are you headed, recruit?”
“Sir, Ah’m—”
“Enough with the formalities, recruit,” he said, raising a hand, “I’m not the Chaplain.”
She nodded but stayed quiet. “Ah’m trying to get to the cafeteria, but...Ah’m a little lost.”
The marine nodded. “I see. Well, recruit, if you want I could lead you there.”
She looked up at him, hopeful, before catching herself. That kind of look could get you in trouble here. “Th-thank you, sir.”
The giant knelt down, offering his massive hand. “Aldwil Trilion, Blood Ravens, First Company,” he spoke, introducing himself.
She looked at his hand, before looking up at his helmeted face. “A-Apple Bloom, Blood Ravens Recruit,” she answered, putting her hoof in his hand.
He gave it a shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Apple Bloom,” he said. “Now let’s get you something to eat.”
---=][=---
Aldwil led the filly through the bowels of the ancient vessel before finally, he brought them both to the massive, Space Marine galley. As they entered, Aldwil quickly pointed to one of the normal men that hugged the wall and called him over. “Serf! Follow me.”
“Yes, M’lord!” he answered, shooting Apple Bloom a look that she felt more than saw.
Aldwil came up to a counter piled with golden trays, decorated with raven heads and wing-shaped handles, and took two. “Hold this one for her,” he said, nodding at the pony recruit.
The serf looked at him, before nodding. “Yes, M’lord.”
Aldwil handed him a tray and began to walk down the line. “You eat meat, don’t you Apple?”
“AB is fine, and not really. We can, but we don’t like to.”
“We all make sacrifices for the Emperor, AB,” Aldwil said, before throwing a massive Grox steak onto her tray. “Some bread, I’m sure you will appreciate,” he listed, giving her a roll as big as her head. “Vegetables as well, I imagine that is your mainstay,” he continued, giving her something that looked green onto her plate. “And some water, I imagine the wine would be a little strong for you…”
“Wine an’ water? That’s it? Y’all don’t drink anything but wine an’ water?”
“We drink it for the flavor,” Aldwil explained. “It is still a common wine, so it doesn’t affect our minds at all. The water is for the serfs, although I’m sure they get into it every now and then, correct?” he asked, smiling at the servant who held Apple Bloom’s tray.
The serf said nothing but did not meet Aldwil’s eyes.
He laughed, before pulling away from the buffet and leading the little filly to one of the massive, wooden tables with its throne-like chairs.
“Come, sit with me and my squad, AB. We have some questions.”
“If you say so...” she nodded, following along.
Aldwil then pulled up a chair next to nine other soldiers, their white helmets sitting next to their trays as they dutifully ate. “Greetings, Brothers!” he greeted, setting his tray down.
“Aldwil!” one of them greeted. “Late as usual! Where did you get to?”
“I ran into one of our new recruits!” Aldwin answered proudly, before picking up Apple Bloom. She yelped, before being dropped into a chair.
“Ah, the xeno I’ve read about,” a second space marine said.
“Indeed! Squad, meet Recruit Apple Bloom,” Aldwil said.
“It has a name?” a third one asked, sounding almost scandalized by the prospect.
“Enough of that, Icarthus,” Aldwil warned. “Chaplain Baltus trusts her, and as such she is deserving the respect that we would give any recruit.”
“Fine by me,” another said. “I don’t give recruits respect.”
“Not even ones that have won their knife?” Aldwil asked, pointing to the blade that was still slung to her back.
A marine three seats down leaned forward. “Now that is interesting…”
“It is?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Only Baltus’ best recruits get their own knife that early,” Aldwil explained. “I still have mine right here,” he said, pointing to the blade which lay sheathed across his left shin.
“He must think you have a lot of promise, recruit,” another marine said.
“Now gentlemen, let’s not forget our manners,” Aldwil spoke. “We know her name, it’s only fair she knows ours.”
Introductions were made, and Apple Bloom was then interrogated more ruthlessly than when Lazarus peeked into her mind.
“Truly another dimension?”
“Have you met this Avatar of the Emperor?”
“What is your homeworld like?”
“Have you never seen a man at all?”
“Brothers, brothers,” Aldwil interrupted, taking off his helmet as he lifted a massive drumstick to his mouth. “She is not some monstrosity with a mouth for every question, one at a time please. Bezra, let’s start with you.”
The marine smirked. “My question remains the same, did you truly come from another dimension?”
Apple Bloom shrugged. “That’s what Librarian Lazarus said,” she said, “but Ah couldn't really tell ya. Apparently it’s something about how the laws of physics don’t really match up er sometin’.”
“That’s it?” Bezra asked, obviously disappointed. “Pah!”
“Hameal,” Aldwil said, “you next.”
“Um...actually, sirs,” Apple Bloom interjected, “could I perhaps ask a question?”
The marines looked between each other, yet no one spoke up. “Seems fair,” Aldwil said, “go ahead, recruit.”
“How did you know about me, already?” she asked.
“Oh, you’re on every data-slate from bow to stern,” another marine, named Haldrig said, pulling up a golden tablet, and revealed a long scrolling line of text, complete with pictures of her and a documented list of various bodily functions that quickly made Apple Bloom uncomfortable. “Chapter Master Gabriel wanted to be sure that you weren’t killed until we were sure you were going to bring some xeno taint with you.”
Apple Bloom nodded, still incredibly off-put by how readily they admitted they would kill her if ordered to.
“Now, may I?” Hameal asked.
“Oh, sure, go on ahead,” she said.
“What is your homeworld like?” Hameal asked. “From the report, we can tell that it’s a feudal world, but that doesn’t offer much in the way of climate, environment, flora, and fauna. So, what is it like?”
“It...uh...it’s cool, kinda nice. A lot of grass, and a lot of trees. An’ Princess Celestia works hard at keeping us safe…” she said.
Hameal tried to hide a grimace. “Is that everything?” he asked.
“Oh, by the throne, you’re not…” Icarthus said.
“She deserves to remember that at least, Icarthus.”
“She does not need to remember anything! She is a filthy xeno that deserves a bolt through her head! If it were not for the fact that our Chapter Master purged the Chaos taint amongst us, I would have branded him a heretic!” He stood, taking his tray and helmet. “When you have decided to stop humoring this descent into madness, let me know,” and with that, he walked away.
The squad watched him go before Apple Bloom spoke up. “What did ya mean by ‘remember?’”
“Oh...um…” Hameal began, “it’s just...at one point to become a space marine, you’ll have to go through hypnotherapy to learn how to use some of your new organs, and...well you might forget some things.”
She blinked. “W-what?”
“It’s true,” Aldwil said, seemingly without a care. “I can’t remember the home I grew up in. I know it was there, but I couldn’t tell you what it was like.”
Bezra nodded. “Typically you remember things like names, smells, and images, but beyond that, not much. What Hameal is trying to do is remember for you. He has a soft spot for the new recruits like that.”
“I do not have a soft spot,” Hameal hissed. “I simply feel that the loss of any knowledge is a crime against our chapter. Knowledge is Power, Guard it Well, that is our motto, and I am simply living by that.”
“I’m sure,” Bezra said.
“Ah...Ah could get forget?” Apple Bloom asked. “Ah could forget home?”
Aldwil nodded. “This is your home, anything before belonged to a different you. Once you become a Space Marine, you become a son of the Emperor, you have no past.”
Apple Bloom stared at her tray, tears hugging the edges of her eyes. “Ah could forget mah family?” she asked.
She could forget her sister. The one who had helped raise her when her parents had died. She could forget her brother. The silent giant who was as gentle as a kitten or as vicious as a timberwolf when the situation arose. Or what about Granny Smith? Would she forget all those times they had worked together to make Zap Apple Jam?
“Ah...Ah’ve got to go,” she said, leaping down from her chair.
“Apple Bloom?” Hameal called.
“Let her go, Hameal,” Aldwil said. “She’ll need time, I’m sure.”
---=][=---
Apple Bloom lay on a bed that was far too big for her, in the large room that had been assigned to her.
She didn’t want to forget.
She didn’t want to lose that.
Not that.
She couldn’t lose that.
A knock sounded on the adamantium door, and Aldwil poked his helmeted head in. “AB? Recruit Apple Bloom?”
“Ah don’t want ta forget…” she said.
Aldwil and Hameal pushed their way in, and they both took a knee to stare into her eyes.
“If you are to become a Space Marine, you must,” Aldwil told her.
“But Ah can’t,” Apple Bloom, said, choking on a sob. “An Apple ain’t nothin’ without her family. Ah can’t forget mah family!”
“But we are your family now, Young Apple Bloom,” Aldwil said.
“But mah sister always told me that ya can’t forget where you come from!” she cried.
“And I will make sure you don’t, Young Apple Bloom,” Hameal comforted. “I will remember for you.”
“But what if ya forget?”
Hameal smiled behind his helmet. “I can’t forget. Photographic memory is part of being a Blood Raven. Once you have forgotten in Hypnotherapy, you never forget again.”
She sniffed. “You’ll never forget?”
“Never again,” Hameal said. “So tell me, and I shall remember for you, recruit.”
“O-okay...okay I’ll tell you…”
She took a deep breath, and pushed herself up. “Ah...Ah have two best friends, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo.”
---=][=---
“An Empty Mind Is A Loyal Mind.”—Imperial Thought of the Day
Next up, Sweetie Belle and Oraban, as well as expanding on the Eldar a bit, hopefully, I’ll do them justice this time.
“Hopefully.”
Thank you for the vote of confidence, Pinkie.
“You’re welcome!”
Well, I’m glad you enjoyed. Now I’m going to go and develop my own chapter now.
“You can do that?”
Sure. There are rules for it.
“There are?”
…*le sigh* here.
“Ooh, cool!”
Yes it is, Pinkie. Well, anyway guys, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Be sure to comment and let me know what you think.
“Well see you next time, guys! Bye!”
By—uh...Pinkie...what are those?
“The cupcake legion! The chapter whose main weapon is baked goods and—”
Um...Pinkie...we gonna need to talk…
“Sure! We’ll see you soon, guys!”
Bye.