Entrenchment

by SFaccountant

Realpolitik

Entrenchment
An Age of Iron story

Chapter 3
Realpolitik

****

Unknown tunnel network
1 week after Company fleet departure

"Oh, Goddess, what have we done?" mumbled a terrified diamond dog as she raced down a series of winding, glittering mining tunnels. Her pack sprinted along with her, running on all fours, with torches clenched in their teeth.
Explosions echoed through the halls behind them, and loose dirt rained down on their heads. One of the canines glanced back, and he felt a small surge of pride when he saw the path behind them collapse. The explosives had worked, and another Mechanicus mining rig was ruined.
"They're coming. They're coming. They're coming..." a small diamond dog chanted feverishly, almost biting through her torch in her fear.
"Calm down! We're almost home free!" barked another. "Mox said that she'd be waiting by the ruins! It's just a little further!"
A muffled grinding noise came from above, and more dirt started pouring down on the diamond dogs. This time it was obviously not from an explosion.
"They're here!"
"Shut up! Just keep running!"

The dogs reached a wide intersection lit by slow-burning torches, trying desperately to ignore the rumbling tremors and the sound of cracking rock.
"Okay," mumbled the pack leader as he skidded to a halt, "the North tunnel leads back to the village, but the West tunnel is where Mox-"
One of the diamond dogs yelped as a sudden shower of larger rocks almost buried her. A heavy, mechanical grinding noise came from the ceiling, and a moment later a large drill bit burst into the room from above amongst a cloud of rock dust.
"They're here! We're all gonna die!"
The canine saboteurs stood up on their hind legs as a clunking noise came from the digging machine, and many of them whimpered when a compartment on the side of the transport snapped open.
A single figure swung out of the compartment and landed in the path leading to the West tunnel. It was hard for the diamond dogs to tell what the figure was, exactly; it wore a tattered black shroud of rubber and the torch light was dim. Through the tears and folds of the cloak, however, the canines could see gleaming strips of metal and the glimmering green light of optics clusters set under a shadowy hood. The dogs' sense of smell, unhindered by the darkness, detected a pungent aura of machine oil and ozone clinging to what was presumably a cyborg hunter.
"Combat engrams engaged. Target unit identified. Analyzing viable engagement scenarios..."
From beneath the robes unfolded three gangly, multiple-jointed bionic arms, with two of them bearing crackling taser goads.
"There's only one of them!" barked the lead diamond dog, drawing a short sword from his belt and pointing at the Dark Techpriest. "Get him!"
"Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!" went the other dogs as they fled down the North tunnel. The remaining canine blinked in surprise, and then started backing away.
"You useless cowards! Boss Mox is going to-"
A mechatendril darted across the floor like a viper, stabbing a metal needle into the saboteur's ankle. The diamond dog stumbled and then the Dark Techpriest was upon him, pressing the taser goad to his chest. The weapon discharged, knocking him out instantly with a near-lethal blast of electricity.
"Target neutralized. Tracking..."
The Dark Techpriest stepped over the twitching canine, his optics peering into the gloom and rendering the backs of the fleeing enemies.
"Mapping engagement route... viable contact point identified. Dispatching support..."

****

"Did we lose him?"
"Yeah, I think so. Patches never stood a chance..."
"I meant the human! Of course Patches is gone! That idiot actually thought we were going to fight it!"
"Are you sure that was a human? I've seen a few, and I don't remember them having so many... metal bits."
"Who cares what it was, exactly? There are all sorts of freaks working for these humans. Robots, monsters... equines..."
One of the dogs gave a disgusted grunt as she slowed to a walk. The tunnel ahead led into an intersection, which then descended into a series of old, ancient mines. The tunnels were a dark, hopeless labyrinth for most creatures, with paths that went in circles or led to dangerous cave-ins. The diamond dogs, however, could find their way around by scent; the correct tunnels were traveled far more often, and as such the smell of their packs was much stronger.
A quick whiff of the air, and the diamond dogs had a direction. They took off at a swift jog with their ears perked to pick up any sounds of pursuit.
"... Hey, what's with all the torches?" asked one dog suddenly.
"What torches?" asked another.
"That's what I mean. Aren't there supposed to be some on the walls? Like, not too many, or it would make it obvious where the correct path is, but I don't see any at all! I'm pretty sure there were some when we set out!"
One of the diamond dogs held up his own torch and checked the wall. There was, in fact, an unlit torch mounted there, and judging by its scent it had been lit recently. Something had put it out.
"Okay, that doesn't bode well."
"Stop your whimpering and keep moving. We have to lose the freak in the robes before we get back to-"
"Shhhh! Quiet!"
All the canines fell silent and stopped dead in their tracks. Soon they could hear another voice coming from deeper down the tunnel.

"It just surprises me that this was all arranged on such short notice! She literally got the orders the night before she left! Otherwise I definitely would have known about it!"
"Okay, yeah. That is kind of odd, but still-"
"Not to mention where the orders came from! Princess Celestia? REALLY? Why is Miss 'Chaos is Icky and Evil and Gross' sending ponies to the Eye of Terror, anyway?"
"Well..."
"The Eye of Terror. EYE of TERROR. That's what they call it! I'll bet she took off thinking it was some sort of field trip! I'm seriously worried!"
"C'mon Lieutenant, focus on the mission..."

The diamond dogs were perplexed as they heard the voices talking deeper in the mines. The noise echoed through the caverns easily, giving ample warning that they were there.
"Put out the torches!" hissed one of the fleeing saboteurs. "We'll head back home by smell alone!"
The diamond dogs nervously ground their light sources into the dirt, and then started moving again at a more cautious pace.

"And what do I hear when I complain that I didn't get to say goodbye to the mare I love? 'Twilight just wanted to let you know she hates you.' What's with that?"
"Think it's kind of self-explanatory..."
"Man, I don't know. Maybe I should change tactics, here. You know, step it up a notch? She doesn't like who I am? Well, I can change!"
"Okay, really, could we just concen-"
"As soon as I get back home, I'm going to look into selling my slave. I won't actually do it until Sparkle comes back, but, y'know, I want to be sure I can ditch him fast."
"... Sell him? Not let him go?"
"Hey, change is hard. Besides, I'll need the money if I'm actually going to start dating... okay, hold on a sec. Found them."

A ghostly pulse of light came from down the tunnel, and the diamond dog in the lead yelped in pain. She collapsed a moment later, clutching her chest and the trio of needle-like crystals stuck in it.
"They can see us!"
"What? How!?"
"Run!"
Dusk Blade swooped across the front of the pack, cutting across one of the diamond dogs with his hoof blades and then striking another with a twirling kick. The heavy canine stumbled into one of the others, stopping the group briefly in its confused retreat.
"So here are the rats gnawing at our ankles," hissed the other Lunar Guard as she strafed the pack of dogs on the other side. Her echo cannon started to whine as the harmonic keys within powered up.
"Wait, this smell... ponies? But..." mumbled one of the diamond dogs as the pack clustered up and drew their own weapons.
"BATponies, mutt," Dusk growled, "you could never hide from us, even if you never made a sound... so, do you want to wake up in Happy Hills' bestiary cells or its medicae ward?"
"Kill the little shrimps!" barked a canine in the dark.
"I heard 'medicae ward'!" the mare chirped while aiming her weapon. "Here's your lullaby!"
An ear-splitting shriek came from the echo cannon, and Dusk gave the target area some extra clearance before the canines were bombarded by high-intensity sonic blasts. A few of the diamond dogs collapsed instantly, while most of them bolted away in pain and confusion.
One of them swung at Dusk, but he ducked the clumsy attack and then kicked out the dog's legs.
"You mutts think you can come into our tunnels and bury our machines?!" Dusk snapped before striking down another dog with a spin-kick. "Just wait! You'll be digging for us soon enough!"
Another canine swiped at him, but the attack was clumsy and hesitant. The diamond dogs were tracking his position in the dark through scent and hearing, neither of which were precise enough senses to guide a melee. The batponies, on the other hand, were in their element, and every taunting comment they made sketched the world around them via their echolocation. In an enclosed environment like the mines, they didn't even need to bother with their night vision optics.
"We'll destroy the human mines, and then we'll destroy you!" shouted another diamond dog charging at Dusk.
The Lunar Lieutenant was just a bit too slow in removing his hoofblades from the back of another enemy, and was tackled out of the air before he could dodge. Dusk hit the ground on his back, pinned by a large and powerful paw.
"Die already, you useless puppets!" snarled the dog before biting onto a leg. He nearly broke his teeth on the batpony's armor plating, but a pained screech from the stallion confirmed that it hurt at least as much for his opponent.
"Lieutenant! Don't worry, I've got you!" came a shout from above.
Dusk kicked at the dog on top of him, and then was slugged in the face by another paw. As dangerous as his situation was, though, what really set his heart pounding was when he heard the whining sound of the echo cannon building its charge.
"Gugh! Nacht, don't you DARE fire the echo gun at me! Oof!"
"Don't worry! This thing is super accurate, remember?" Nacht said as she lined up her weapon.
Unfortunately (or perhaps very fortunately), Nacht found herself hovering in the same place long enough for one of the angry diamond dogs to find her. He grabbed the batpony out of the air by the cannon barrel and then swung it around, flinging the mare away and into a wall.
"Kill 'em and let's get out of here!" barked the canine. He rushed at the wall after the mare, ready to pull the batpony limb from limb if necessary. "Ponies or human, you won't stop us!"
"Negative. Success probability of enemy retreat approaching zero," came a voice from the darkness.
Every diamond dog froze stiff, as if their blood had suddenly turned to ice. The gentle sound of measured footsteps against loose dirt came from the tunnel behind them, and a whiff of machine oil crossed the canines' noses.
Looking back into the gloom, a cluster of at least seven glittering green lights approached, step by step, without the slightest sign of urgency.
Dusk felt the shift in the combat immediately, mainly because his assailant had finally stopped trying to throttle him. He slammed a hoof against the diamond dog's knee, and then used a wing to push himself into a roll when the canine flinched back.
Dusk fired a burst from his splinter rifle as soon as he could get a clear shot, and the canine fell to the ground with a yelp while the rest of the pack broke and fled.

"Nacht! Echo cannon! Take them down!" Dusk shouted through the blood in his mouth.
"Y-Yeah! Got it!" She was still a bit dizzy from being thrown into a rock face, but Nacht swung her cannon around and took aim at the fleeing enemies.
"Negative. Hold fire," said the Dark Techpriest. He stopped in his approach, shifting his free hand around in his robes.
Both batponies dropped their guns from their firing positions. The Techpriest had taken up a long-barreled pistol in one hand, and he calmly raised it to firing level.
The barrel released a small burst of light as the weapon discharged with a muffled crack, like a tiny firework. A yelp of pain was heard from one of the diamond dogs ahead of them, but it didn't seem to slow them down. The cyborg lowered his arm.
Soon the canines were far beyond the range of both the batponies' echolocation and the Techpriest's optical sensors.
"So... uh... are we going to finish them off?" asked Nacht.
"Negative. Secure the prisoners for extraction," the Dark Techpriest ordered, "let the enemy retreat."
"Tracking device," Dusk whispered to the other pony. She nodded back. Then he look up at the robed cyborg. "Thanks for helping us out, there. Diamond dogs aren't exactly a warrior race, but they can be feisty when cornered like that."
"Your estimated chances of combat success against that many enemies was thirty-seven-point-eight-seven percent. These results are within simulation parameters."
"Er... thanks?" Nacht said in confusion. "Oh! You were watching over the combat recorder, right? How was my banter this time around?"
"Also within technically acceptable standards of mediocrity."
"YES!" the mare cheered. "I worked really hard on that!"
"Yes, you have," Dusk agreed, "to the point that I doubt you've had enough target practice to safely shoot a diamond dog off of me."
"Cease discussion. Remain silent and assist me with the prisoners," the Dark Techpriest commanded. Then he walked up to the unconscious diamond dogs.
"Uh..."
The cyborg halted and looked back over his shoulder. The batponies were fidgeting behind him, looking uncomfortable.
"So, you know about echolocation, right? We make noise and then figure out our surroundings by listening to how it bounces back to us," Nacht explained nervously.
"Yeah, so when we're talking all the time during our fights and missions, it's not just to act cool. That's pretty much how we see. And those dogs broke my optics goggles," Dusk mumbled, "telling us to be quiet is pretty much asking us to stumble around blind."
"... Very well. You may speak freely as you assist me," the Techpriest said as he pulled up a body.
"Cool! Thanks!" The batponies trotted up next to the robed cyborg and went about discarding any weapons or items they carried.
"So, Techpriest... did YOU know that Twilight Sparkle was leaving the planet?"
"OH, FOR MOON'S SAKE WILL YOU LET IT GO?! I WOULD RATHER WORK BLIND!"

****

Ferrous Dominus - sector 19
Train station

Hope stepped off the mag-lev train nervously, taking her first look around at the interior of a Chaos fortress. Other ponies and a few humans walked past her without pausing to take in the sights. Some were already wearing rebreather masks, while some paused outside to put them on. They moved on quickly, or else chatted with each other, all of them seeming oblivious to the heavy bolter turrets constantly sweeping their targeting arrays across the area.
Hope was not so jaded, and her ears flattened against her head as she stared up at the massive guns sliding back and forth. She could probably fit her entire leg down the barrel if she'd tried.
Her horn lit up, and a rebreather mask that she had been issued rose from her saddlebags and fit over her muzzle. She used her magic to secure the straps, and then hesitantly stepped in line to enter the fortress streets.
As she waited to be cleared by security, Hope looked back at the train she had come in on. The mag-lev train that connected Ferrous Dominus to Ponyville was an armored beast of a vehicle, boasting autocannon turrets and shielded cargo bays. Thankfully such defenses had proven unnecessary so far; Hope was frightened enough just being in a Chaos fortress without being attacked on the way in.
"Next!"
Hope was also thankful that they had a pony processing the new arrivals rather than a human or Iron Warrior. She shuddered as she approached the stallion, her approach being closely tracked by a pair of combat servitors.
"Name?" the armored pony asked.
"Hope."
The pony tapped away at a hololithic screen for a few seconds.
"And what is your business here, Miss Hope?"
"I am a diplomatic envoy from Canterlot. We sent word that I was coming to arrange a meeting with... uh, whoever is in charge right now."
The stallion looked up. She couldn't see his expression beneath his shaded visor and rebreather, but she got the sense he was surprised.
"Really? Huh. Hold on a minute..." he turned away, brought up another hololith screen with a wave of his hoof, and then started poking at it.
Hope stared at the floating, bright orange display board in fascination. She was quite intrigued by human technology, but - like many ponies - was rather squeamish about how much of it was designed and deployed in aid of murder. Her current experience, sadly, was doing little to dispel that. Turning away from the hololith gave her a nice close-up view of a battle servitor: an armored cyborg with a heavy tread chassis rather than legs, and each of its arms replaced by a pair of cannons. In the middle of a cage of wires and ballistics plating was the mutilated torso of a human, crammed into the mess of armor and cabling like an afterthought. It was pale, listless, and vigilant in a distinctly lifeless manner, with a blank-eyed stare fixed on the unicorn.
"Okay, I think we've got this sorted," the stallion guard said before he turned around. Then he frowned up at the battle servitor. "Hey, Teddy! Back up, would you? Give the poor mare some breathing room!"
Hope was mildly impressed when the servitor actually did as instructed. Its engine rumbled and spat out puffs of smoke, and the treads ground slowly backward to put an additional meter between the cyborg weapon and the shivering pony.
"And put the guns up! This one's clear!"
Again, the servitor followed the command immediately, shifting its weapons up toward the sky and away from Hope's face.
"Sorry about that, Miss. Just give me a moment to complete the auspex scan of the train, and then I can escort you to the command center." The guard pony tapped at the first hololith with his hoof, and numerous diagrams bloomed into view, one at a time, and then shrunk back to nothing before Hope could get a good look at them.
"All right, done! Let's go!" With another swipe of his hoof, the heavy crossbar fence that separated the train platform from the inner fortress slid shut behind Hope and locked into place.

"My name is Coal Dust, by the way! It's an honor to welcome you to Ferrous Dominus!" the stallion's cheerfulness came through in a distorted mumble, and seemed slightly incongruous with the remarkably depressing setting that Hope was being led through. Thick fences, razor wire, and ferrocrete barricades were everywhere, and the humans lounging around the area were all armed to the teeth.
As was her escort. Coal Dust wore the now-typical flak armor suit that protected his entire body save his head. His face was covered by a mask and a thick helmet with a Chaos Star mounted on the front. The flak plate was painted a dull red, and then scratched and dirtied from wear and local particulate filth. A lasrifle was attached to his ballistic harness on the right foreleg, and the left had a knife sheathed at the knee.
The setup didn't look unusual, as the Royal Guards in Canterlot wore the same basic wargear now. However, Canterlot's soldiers had begun the process of embellishing and caring for their equipment as proper icons of their station; the flak armor was painted elaborately, ribbons and medals had been added appropriately, and everything was cleaned regularly and well. There was also a lovely absence of Chaos Stars. Nopony had been so kind as to explain the rather chilling sensation that the symbols generated among unicorns when they looked at them. Hopefully it was because nopony could explain it. More likely, the answer was being withheld because it was ugly, terrifying, and unhelpful.
"Was that... thing back there really named 'Teddy'?" Hope suddenly asked.
Coal chuckled. "Kind of! The Company just numbers the servitors, or calls them the same name they had before they were mind-scrubbed and gutted. Some of us find that kind of depressing, though, so we give 'em new names! Teddy's my favorite!"
Hope's brow furrowed under her horn. "You said... 'mind-scrubbed'? What's that?"
"Pretty much what it sounds like. And I don't think I have to explain 'gutted' to you."
Hope gulped.
"Yeah, the humans don't take any back-talk from their slaves and prisoners. And the way things are going, we might be seeing a lot of new species up for conversion."
Hope halted in place, recoiling away from the soldier. "You mean they're doing this to ponies?!"
Coal stopped and glanced back at her. "Ponies? Nah. I think they were looking into that, but we're too small to fit with the heavier machines. Makes it kind of pointless. Also, they don't really have any pony slaves or prisoners to experiment on."
"Oh, thank Celestia," Hope gasped in relief.
"Actually, if anything, our fair Princess almost messed that up big time," Coal snorted, "but yeah. Mostly we're looking at diamond dogs right now."
Hope looked up at him in askance as she started following him again.
"I have to say, I'm REALLY glad that Equestria is getting involved diplomatically," Coal Dust said in a more serious tone, "I think the humans are awesome, personally, but they don't really have much of a head for... well... peace, I guess. The Tau are better about that, but screw those guys."
Hope nodded. "I heard that something besides the Orks attacked the 38th Company. Rumors are flying wildly about Canterlot right now, though, and the Company only shares information with the Equestrian government on a 'need-to-know' basis. And, well, there doesn't seem to be much information that it thinks we need to know. You say the perpetrators were diamond dogs?"
Coal glanced back again, giving the mare a sidelong look. "Yeah. Mostly."
"Mostly? There were other species involved in the attack?" Hope asked in concern.
"There's been a lot more than one attack," Coal Dust said grimly as he opened the front entrance of the command center and stepped aside for Hope, "most of them have been by diamond dogs. Some have been by griffons. We've had some minotaurs, and even a couple dragons."
Hope stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the stallion.
Coal raised a foreleg to shift his goggles up and lower his mask. For the first time, Hope saw the stallion's face. His worried eyes met hers, pleading with her.
"Listen, I've of got a... thing going with a batpony. I'm kind of a night owl. It's not important. But last night she told me that her squad had tracked some diamond dog saboteurs back to a little underground village in the tunnel network. From what I heard they're discussing whether to seize the village and move everyone in it to the slave camps or simply collapse the tunnels and crush it all at once."
Hope gawked at the other pony. He shook his head.
"Incidentally, my marefriend favors flattening the place. Batponies are kind of hardcore." Coal shook his head. "Anyway, I don't know what these guys are trying to accomplish by attacking our patrols and mining stations, but what they're doing is teaching the humans that everything non-equine needs to be shackled or shot. The camps are filling up fast, and the Company hasn't even launched an assault or invaded anyone yet."
Hope released a shuddering breath. "The situation is quite a bit worse than I feared, then."
"General Harlin and Princess Luna are waiting for you in briefing room secundus. Take the right hallway and it's the fourth room down. Good luck, Miss Hope," Coal Dust stood back and saluted, "we know we can count on Chaos if we need a massacre. I hope we can count on Equestria to prevent one."

Hope slipped her respirator mask off as she crept through the halls of the command center. Her pace was subdued, and she glanced back and forth nervously at the large Iron Skulls and Chaos Stars that served as the only decoration in the bare metal hallways. Humans in non-combat uniforms passed by her every once in a while, but they were surprisingly few. She hadn't seen a single Iron Warrior since she'd arrived either, although she had heard most of them were out in space at the moment.
She found the room she had been directed to, labeled with "II" above the door. Hope gulped and knocked against it with her hoof.
The door slid open.
"Enter!" barked a man's voice from within.

General Joseph Harlin sat at one side of a hololith table, his hands clasped together. He looked somewhat frustrated.
Luna sat on the opposite side, her head lying on the table and her eyes closed. She was sleeping, which may well have been related to Harlin's frustration.
"Introduce yourself," the General said sharply.
"M-My name is Hope. Hope Springs. I am the diplomatic envoy of Princess Celestia, here to represent Equestria."
Harlin pointed to a chair opposite his position. "Sit down."
Hope did so, steeling her nerve for the engagement ahead of her. She would never characterize herself as a brave pony, but in the context of formal negotiation she could at least distract herself from the fact that the General sent to talk to her appeared to be better armed than the pony soldier that had escorted her here; she couldn't really recognize a bolt pistol and differentiate it from a lasweapon, but chainswords were anything but subtle.
"My name is General Joseph Harlin, Commander of the 38th Company's mortal contingents," the man said before gesturing to the mare napping next to him, "I presume this one doesn't need an introduction?"
"Correct, General. I know who she is." Hope paused. "Uh... does Princess Luna need to be awake for this, or...?"
To her surprise, the man snorted and flicked Luna's horn. The Princess jerked upright and started stammering incoherently, suddenly awake but obviously dazed.
"Princess Luna. Your councilor has arrived," Harlin said, gesturing to Hope, "it's time to get this under way."
"A-Aye! Indeed. Quite," Luna mumbled, shaking herself from her sleep and yawning. "Well met."
"I am Hope Springs, Princess," the unicorn bowed her head, "it is my understanding that you've been encountering sudden aggression from our neighbors here on... er, Centaur III, as you refer to our world."
"Thou art correct," Luna said wearily, "the total number of incidents hath reached... ah..."
"As of yesterday, sixteen," General Harlin interjected as Luna hesitated, "every one of them carefully planned, cunningly executed, and utterly futile." He sneered. "Let me be blunt with you, Councilor: this is a military problem for which we have ample military solutions. For all their planning and courage, these upstarts have done no serious damage, and every fight has swiftly turned against them. But we will only suffer this foolishness for so long. By the time my masters return from the Warp, this situation will be rectified."
"I agree, General," Hope said grimly, "it is simply Equestria's intention that it be rectified without demolishing the surrounding kingdoms. We're not sure what's happening yet, and we must advise caution."
"Why?" Harlin demanded. "Do you think these creatures possess the power to challenge us?"
Hope actually laughed at that question. "No, General. No force of axe-wielding minotaurs or angry griffons is going to tear down these walls. That was true a few weeks ago, when the Company finished rebuilding from the war, and it's still true today, even with most of your strongest soldiers gone. That raises some important questions, and provides us with crucial advantages."
Harlin sat back in his chair, furrowing his brow. "Go on..."
Hope was cheering inwardly that she'd managed to calm the man's initial belligerence. She was sure she still had a long way to go before the option of artillery strikes and slave blocks was off the table, though.
"Well, first, is it true that these attacks all occurred around your patrol routes and facilities?" Hope asked.
Harlin swept a hand over his personal console rather than answering, bringing up a hololith. As he started entering data, a larger hololith flickered into place over the table. It was a map that placed Ferrous Dominus in the center and then displayed several of the surrounding areas. Small buildings and towers marked out the outposts belonging to the Iron Warriors, as well as the nearest Equestrian settlements.
"The locations of the attacks have all taken place within this area. They've all struck either patrol convoys or small, poorly-defended stations, usually with hit-and-run attacks. None of the strike forces we've deployed to attack Ork raiders have had any encounters."
"Our Lunar Guard hath also found several possible malcontents probing the fortress and surrounding lands in the dead of night," Luna added, "although these efforts art easily thwarted. None of the races that think to oppose us can match the thestrals' abilities in dead of night. If there were any such attacks planned, they hath faltered before being launched."
"This is all very strange," Hope mumbled as several red markers noted the location of the ambushes, "all of them have taken place far outside any other nation's recognized borders. Some of them have even occurred inside Equestria." Hope shook her head. "There's no way these are being conducted by the griffon and diamond dog militaries. They must be-"
"Yes, they are," Harlin interrupted.
Hope jerked her head up. "What?"
"Most of the griffons and dogs we've captured have confessed to being army regulars, acting under orders. Or the equivalent, for the minotaurs. They don't really have a formalized military. Not sure about the big lizards, as we haven't captured any."
The diplomat pony stared at him in shock. "But... But WHY? This makes no sense at all! You haven't even launched any invasions of foreign territory! Why would they be throwing soldiers at you like this?"
"Few of the non-equine races on our world art known for their calm temperament or sophisticated intellect," Luna pointed out wryly, "it may be that they see this conflict as inevitable, since the Company claims dominion over the entirety of the planet."
"But then, why no formal declaration of war?" Hope asked, scrunching up her muzzle.
"No what, now?" Harlin asked.
The unicorn glanced at him uncertainly. "You know... a statement of intent to challenge your army?"
The General looked over at Luna. "Oh. You do those?"
"Thou dost not?"
"It's pretty much implied. For us it's not challenging armies and condemning species to death that needs to be declared." The man shrugged.

The door to the briefing room opened, admitting another participant. Hope was busy scrutinizing the hololithic map, but General Harlin straightened up immediately when he saw who had entered.
"Warpsmith Kessler, welcome," the mercenary officer said quickly, bowing his head.
Hope turned her head around as she heard heavy footsteps enter the room, and then she nearly fell over off her seat.
The diplomat pony had seen Iron Warriors before, including Warsmith Solon and Serith. Still, she was far from used to them, especially in close quarters. The floor trembled with every step the engineer-warrior made, sending small, terrifying jolts up the legs of Hope's chair. Mechatendrils bearing drooling mouths, razor claws, and other dangerous implements snaked around the Iron Warrior, and a pair of steaming smokestacks were mounted on the back of his armor. The Chaos Space Marine was armed, of course, because apparently no one in this fortress could attend a simple committee meeting without a blade on hand. He even had a unique stench to him: a revolting mix of gun smoke and sulfur that made Hope seriously consider putting her rebreather back on.
The Iron Warrior took the side of the table opposite Luna, standing up with his power axe held at his side. He turned to look toward Hope, and the unicorn whimpered as she stared into the cluster of a half-dozen blood-red lights set into Kessler's helmet.
"Uh, h-hi. I'm-"
"I know who you are," the Warpsmith cut her off, which did nothing to shore up her nerves, "I've been listening to this meeting via vox-capture on the way here. Continue." Kessler's voice was curiously resonant, lacking the static feedback caused by most vox emitters. It really should have served to make him less intimidating, but Hope had to conclude that it did not.
"Councilor Hope?" Harlin asked after a long pause. "Was that all you had to say?"
She gulped and shook her head, but had difficulty finding her voice. "It's just... ah... w-we should seek an explanation from the sovereign territories before making assumptions, th-that's all." Hope found herself stumbling over her words and struggling to keep eye contact with Warpsmith Kessler as she pleaded her case.
"I do not see why," Kessler said calmly, "the natives have made themselves quite clear. They wish to remove us from this world, if not destroy us completely." Hope sputtered weakly for a moment before the Iron Warrior continued. "This is annoying, but also convenient. There was some question of how the 38th Company was going to lay physical claim to this world. Were we to seek alliances, as with your kind? Were we to burnish our image as heroes and saviors of the planet and demand compensation?"
"'Tis our preferred approach," Luna mumbled, looking sleepy again.
"Now there is no question. No need for hesitation or propaganda. They have harmed us in our own territory, testing our strength and patience. We will march into their homes and show them both measures laid bare. Each capital will be seized, one by one. Those creatures without a governing body shall have their settlements or nests razed until they submit." His mechatendrils hissed as he paused. "I will have many trophies and gifts to show Lord Sliver when he returns."
"Dost you mean Warsmith Solon?" Luna asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Meh."
General Harlin glanced over to Hope, who looked terrified. "What do you advise, Councilor?"
The diplomat levitated a handkerchief out of her saddlebag, wiping away the sweat that was beading across her brow. "Please, I b-beg you to reconsider! If th-they have truly decided to wage w-war on the Company, then, well, they're dead. That's a foregone conclusion. B-But I don't believe our neighbor kingdoms are r-really that stupid!"
"Their warriors clearly are," Harlin quipped.
"There has to be another dimension to this! Even if the griffon or diamond dog nations seriously thought they could win a war against the Company, they should have their hooves full with all the scattered Ork marauders! And none of them have made their intentions known to Equestria, either!"
"They may hath concluded that ponykind hath cast its lot in with Chaos," Luna mused, "and they art correct, at that."
"There are just too many assumptions in play, here!" By now desperation had focused Hope's mind and cured her stutter, and she started rooting around in her saddlebags with her magic. "Let Equestria consult the governments that have been accused of launching these assaults on your territory! We've scheduled a summit a week from now with representatives from this continent's tribes and kingdoms; I will present the evidence of their wrongdoing and demand an explanation!"
"And that will accomplish what, precisely?" Kessler asked curiously.
"It shalt establish a formal declaration of war, at least," Luna interjected, "We would prefer that their intentions art clear before We destroy them. We hath little to lose by a slight delay." She paused to yawn, curving around a wing to cover her mouth.
Hope really wished she could have gotten a stronger commitment to peace and de-escalation from the only pony in the 38th Company with any real clout. Princess Luna wasn't exactly known for her meekness or pacifism, but the Princess of the Night was still treating the conquest of nations as a chore rather than a major upheaval.
She laid out several sheets of parchment and started writing notes with her magic. "I realize, of course, that war is a natural state of affairs for you, Sir-"
"Lord," Kessler corrected calmly.
"L-Lord! Yes! Sorry!" She pounded a hoof against her chest. "But as your allies, Equestria must insist on doing its part for the Iron Warriors! Diplomatic relations are our specialty, and we have a strong rapport with many of our neighbors! Let us try to bring them into the fold without further bloodshed!" She pursed her lips, and then continued in a more subdued voice. "And, uh, please don't annihilate any villages without evacuating the civilians first. That's just uncalled for, really."
General Harlin didn't look convinced, but Luna raised up a wing.
"We concur with the Councilor. We possess the luxury of absolute military dominance, and thy armies hath suffered enough in the war against the Orks. Let us exhaust rudimentary diplomatic options before counter-attacking. We hast nothing to fear."
Hope contained a relieved sigh.
General Harlin shook his head. "I must recommend a more aggressive response. Even if the casualties have been light, the Dark Mechanicus has suffered repeated delays and inefficiencies due to these attacks and are demanding action, and I am accountable to them. Expanded and constant patrol and guard rotations put greater strain on our mercenary forces than a simple assault or bombardment would. We should attack."
The man and mares turned to look at Kessler.
The Warpsmith seemed to be staring at the hololith map, but it was impossible to guess what commanded the attention of the Iron Warrior as his optics flickered softly in the room's gloomy lighting. He could have been reading a visor display, running a program, or searching the noosphere with his neural uplink. They waited, and for forty seconds, the tension turned Hope's stomach into knots.
"Let us meet these other creatures outside the battlefield," Kessler finally said, glancing toward Harlin, "these diamond dogs, griffons, dragons... we know little of them. Exploring this world has yielded many surprises. We may yet find something of worth among the filth that snaps at our heels."
Harlin nodded, and the Warpsmith turned to look down at Hope. The unicorn's eyes were wide, and her ears were perked up for the first time since he had arrived.
"This... 'summit' may prove useful. And you say it is taking place soon?"
"In another week!" Hope almost shouted, still fairly shocked that things had gone her way.
"Excellent. Set its location on the hololith map. I will arrange a transport for us," Kessler said. With a wave of his hand, the hololith zoomed out to display more of the region.
Hope hesitated. "... When you say 'us', are you referring abstractly to our respective factions, as represented by me?"
"Negative. I will be accompanying you to this meeting," Kessler said softly as he poked at the hololith. New icons and pathways started opening up on the map, but Hope wasn't really paying attention to that anymore.
"B-But, uh, I r-really think that, er, I should-" the mare's sputtering was cut off by the Warpsmith.
"I shall allow you to ply your trade, Councilor, and I will not prevent Equestria from trying to bring the foe to heel without further expenditure of men and munitions. But I would have these insolent beasts see the enemy that they think to drive from this world as they bargain for their lives, and I would hear their excuses personally before deciding their fate."
"Shall I arrange a security detail, my Lord?" General Harlin asked.
"Negative. These creatures are expecting to parlay with an equine. I do not foresee any threats worth the attention of more than one Iron Warrior," Kessler explained.
"I don't s-suppose Princess Luna c-could come too?" Hope asked, almost whimpering.
The other participants looked over to the alicorn. She snored softly as she rested her head against the table.
"The Princess has been spending too many days awake, it would seem. It seems to be interfering with her usual rest cycle," Harlin mumbled, "best not to start piling on more daytime obligations. Besides, she strikes me as a lousy diplomat."
Hope might have pointed out that the Iron Warrior that had invited himself to the diplomatic conference had about as much diplomatic tact and experience as an inebriated Ork, while Luna, for all her flaws, was still a pony royal. But her diplomatic skills prevented her from doing so.
"It is decided, then," Kessler said, turning away from the table and walking back toward the door. "General, consult with the Dark Mechanicus and the Tau. I expect you to have assault plans ready if the negotiations fail."
"I suppose I should be glad that you said 'if'," Hope mumbled while massaging her temples with her hooves.
"I hold little hope for the future of these creatures," Kessler said, pausing before the exit, "but your kind has impressed me before. I will give you a chance to serve us."
Hope winced. "Th-Thank you, my Lord."
"You're welcome. I will send for you when preparations are complete." The Iron Warrior left the room.

"Well, I have a lot of work ahead of me," Harlin mumbled, "I suppose we can let those canine burrowers squirm for a few more days until we ruin them." He started walking to the exit himself. "Follow me. I'll see to your lodgings."
"Oh, okay." Hope dropped out of her chair, levitating her things behind her.
Then she glanced back at the table. "Uh... should we tell Princess Luna that the meeting is over?"
"Ssssnx," Luna snorted in her sleep, and then turned her head to rest on her other cheek. "No, Tia... my cake... give... give it back... ven... vengeance will... be mine..."
Harlin shrugged before walking out. "She seems fine to me."
"Ah. Okay."

****

Ponyville

The train whistled loudly before it started pulling away from the station, its wheels straining against the armored behemoth they carried. Heavy bolters rattled at the vibration and targeting lasers swept across buildings and ponies alike in a relentless hunt for targets. Seams of pulsing green came from the train engine, and white smoke leaked a perfectly unique odor into the air from the coolant vents. The vehicle was practically unrecognizable to anyone who had ridden it two months earlier, resembling a war machine more than a method of simple transit.
Many of the trains in Equestria had been upgraded with ballistic armor and autoturrets, and some even ran with guards on board. Ostensibly this was to protect the major routes of transit from Ork raiders, although many of the operators involved confessed that there were other dangerous, hostile creatures out in the Equestrian wilderness that could harass or even infiltrate their vehicles.
It was a point that Tox couldn't help but appreciate as she watched the weaponized transport leave, seeing as she qualified as such a creature herself.

"By the hive..." Tox whispered under her breath as she looked over her destination.
Ponyville was completely unlike any pony settlement she had seen or heard of. Rustic earth pony homes shared space with blocky towers of metal. Armored transports were parked here and there, and the roads had been paved to contend with the constant grind of massive tank treads. Large metal energy pylons bearing yellow and black caution stripes were located next to the larger buildings, humming and crackling loudly while power pulsed through thick braids of cabling. The train yard itself was now located next to a large construction yard, and Tox could see huge cranes with plasma welders and servo clamps rising and falling as they worked at some project she couldn't see.
It was quite obvious why Ponyville had been selected as a waypoint on her path to the Iron Warriors' fortress-factory. Evidence of humanity's influence was everywhere, freely mixed with the rural simplicity of traditional equine living. It was a stunning sight for a creature that had never so much as seen a functioning laser before, and Tox was glad that she wasn't the only one gaping and stumbling about upon exiting the train. It wouldn't do to look out of place, but luckily many disembarking ponies looked just as impressed as she did.
She was currently disguised as a yellow unicorn mare with a black mane and a lightning circle cutie mark. It was a partial copy of a pegasus selected at random at the beginning of her journey, with the fur and mane colors shifted and the cutie mark reversed. A lesser changeling might have assumed that taking the form of a random pony and then traveling several hundred miles to a different town would have been sufficient cover to avoid being caught as a shape-shifter. Tox's breed was more careful. Until their objective was in sight, caution was paramount.
She slowly walked out of the train station, taking in the smells of exhaust and coolant vapors. Rumor had it that Ferrous Dominus spewed so much poisonous gas into the air that it was dangerous to even walk its streets without breathing protection. Was such a fate in store for Ponyville, too? It seemed unlikely that the earth ponies, known for their connection to nature in general and horticulture in particular, would allow their village to be slowly consumed by the humans' machines. Was there any sort of equine resistance to this alien corruption?
As if on cue, a shout came from the side of the road.
"PROTECT OUR FORESTS! PROTECT OUR COUNTRY! JUST SAY NO TO CHAOS!"
Tox immediately veered toward the shouts, trying to suppress a smirk on her face. Her mission didn't include undermining human/pony relations, and in fact doing so would probably draw unnecessary attention her way. But that didn't mean that she wasn't interested in any possible discord between the allies that represented the greatest military threat to the changeling race.

In a grassy patch by the side of the road, four mares were slowly marching in a circle. One was shouting slogans through a bullhorn, while the others shouted words of agreement after her. They all had signs mounted on their backs bearing peace symbols and slogans like "make love, not lasers" and "daemons are illegal immigrants".
"END THE INDUSTRIALIZATION OF OUR LANDS! END THE WAR! END THE HATE!"
"You tell 'em, sister!"
"Preach it!"
"DON'T POISON OUR AIR AND WATER! DON'T CORRUPT OUR FOALS WITH THE INSANITY OF THE DARK GODS!"
"Truth to power!"
"We will be heard!"
While most of the ponies either ignored the protesters or regarded them with rolling eyes and quirked eyebrows, Tox moved up to the edge of the tiny demonstration and sat down.
The mares seemed to immediately sense her curiosity. Lily whirled on Tox with a speed that genuinely impressed the magical infiltrator.
"You, there! Are you tired of having humans calling the shots?!" Lily demanded, standing nose-to-nose with the stranger.
"... Maybe?" Tox replied.
"Do you want to protect the Equestrian way of life?!" shouted Carrot Top.
"... Is the Equestrian way of life under threat?" Tox asked hesitantly.
"Do you want to keep diseased, wretched undead from clawing their way out of their very graves and devouring the living?!" Bonbon demanded with chilling seriousness.
"Yes," Tox said immediately, "that last one sounds like an inherently worthwhile cause."
"Then march with us, sister!" Rose declared, beckoning to Tox with a hoof. "We need all hooves on deck to show those humans we won't just turn over this planet to them!"
Tox looked at the outstretched hoof as if it carried a dead rodent. "I have additional questions, if you don't mind. I don't know much about the humans."
"Well, then you came to the right mares!" Carrot sniffed. "We'll tell you anything you want!"
Tox struggled to keep a grin off of her face. "I see that there's quite a lot of human technology around here. Are there a lot of humans living in Ponyville?"
"Not as many as it seems," Bonbon admitted, "the only humans that are permanent residents are the Sunsworn and a few of the priests at the Nethalican. You'll see quite a few mercenaries around here selling stuff and guarding the people selling stuff, but they don't live here."
That explanation contained a few words that Tox had never heard before. "Sunsworn?"
"Ugh, yeah," Carrot Top made a grunt of disgust and stuck out her tongue, "probably the best humans around, and that's not saying much. Bunch of fanatics that decided to abandon Chaos to worship Princess Celestia. They can be really annoying, but they're not that bad."
Tox found that interesting, and a little alarming. "There are humans that worship Celestia? Religiously? Why?"
"Apparently moving the sun is a big deal to them. I dunno," Rose shrugged.
"No, no, that's wrong, remember? She doesn't raise the sun, the planet circles the sun and she turns the planet."
"Says the humans! More propaganda, if you ask me!"
"I guess it could be, but, I mean, they have space ships. It seems like the kind of thing they'd know about."
Tox wished she could get away with taking notes on everything she was being told right now, but didn't want to seem quite THAT invested in this topic. "Okay, wait, what was that other thing? The Nethicon?"
"Nethalican. Yeah, I know it's a mouthful," Bonbon grumbled.
"You've never heard of it? It's super important!" Lily asked in surprise.
"Er... maybe in passing?" Tox wondered if she was in dangerous territory. She might have stumbled upon something that every Equestrian should know. "But what IS it, exactly?"
"That." Carrot pointed a hoof up toward the rooftops of their little village.
Looming above the lesser metal towers and the ordinary pony houses was a pyramid of dark metal surrounded by spike-tipped towers. It was an imposing structure, but from here it wasn't at all obvious what it was.
As Tox stared, a beam of light suddenly shot up into the sky from the Nethalican's peak, and she flinched back. "Wh-What was that?"
"It does that sometimes. Crazy black magic." Bonbon grumbled.
"The Nethalican is the Company's big evil Chaos temple. They LITERALLY constructed it right on top of most of the dead from the war against the Orks, using their tortured souls as energy."
"It's the thing that's causing the Warp storm, which we THINK is why unicorn magic has been a little wonky lately."
"Not only that! It puts out this weird, awful blight on the ground that's been worming into the Everfree forest! Zecora says that certain parts of the forest are suddenly falling dead for no apparent reason, and the animals are becoming more aggressive and destructive!"
"Plus I'm pretty sure that thing violates every zoning law ever."
Tox was quite intrigued. She'd definitely have to make time to visit the temple later. It seemed like the sort of place where one would meet humans on fairly neutral terms, too. "I see. So, aside from the Nethalican in particular, what kind of problems have the humans been causing?"
"Oh, don't get us STARTED!" Lily groused.
"That was the explicit intent of this encounter," Tox reminded her. The protesters all sat down around her, apparently settling in to their rant.
"Any way you tear it, Chaos is just awful. They worship evil gods and bring hateful monsters into the world on purpose! The eventual goal of Chaos is to conquer the entire galaxy and corrupt or destroy everything! They don't even make a secret about it!" Carrot Top fumed and beat a hoof into the ground. "I talk about it with Kairon all the time! He agrees with me!"
"And Kairon is...?" Tox prompted.
"He's an Iron Warrior locked in a metal coffin that someone dropped off in my front yard. He's kind of goofy, but nice enough."
"Ah. Right."
"They've started corrupting ponies, too!" Rose said with a shudder. "Three fillies around town who have been searching for their cutie marks for ages went to Ferrous Dominus and came back with Chaos Marks instead!"
Tox quirked an eyebrow. That was VERY interesting. "Oh? And what do they do?"
"They replace their special talents with infernal powers, and allow them to communicate with fell beings from beyond the veil."
Tox's other eyebrow arched upward. "Wow. Okay, yeah. That sounds pretty dangerous."
"Not to mention it makes the other children REALLY jealous. My little sister won't stop bugging me to take her to Ferrous Dominus, and she already HAS her cutie mark!" Rose griped.
Next was Lily's turn, and she leaned in until she was almost nose-to-nose with Tox. "Did you know that humans eat meat?!"
"They're carnivores? Interesting..." Tox mumbled.
"No, no, they're omnivores," Bonbon corrected, glaring at Lily, "they can eat plants and meat."
"But they still eat meat!" Lily shouted in Tox's face. "Do you know what that means?"
"...... It means that they have a greater number of possible food sources that provide a wider range of useful nutrients?" Tox guessed.
"It means they're going to eat us!" Lily shouted, planting her hooves on the sides of her head and shaking it back and forth.
"There's some contention on that particular 'problem', though," Bonbon grumbled, "by which I mean that it's not a problem at all. Nopony has ever heard of a human eating a pony."
"But they COULD!" Lily fretted. "What if we're delicious?! WE WOULD NEVER EVEN KNOW UNTIL IT WAS TOO LATE."
"Moving on," Bonbon said, clearing her throat, "in addition to being generally awful, the humans also have the cult of Nurgle, dark god of disease and entropy. That's brought a lot of problems here to Equestria."
Tox was again very intrigued. As a guardian changeling, she was inured against disease, so it didn't really concern her. For most other creatures, however, illness was a severe and terrifying matter.
"And what has this cult been doing?" she asked.
"It brought the dead back to life!" Bonbon shuddered.
Tox again felt her expectations severely betrayed. "But... isn't that the OPPOSITE of how diseases work? Why would you even be mad about that?"
"Because I have been rooming with a ZOMBIE for over a month! I spend more on air fresheners and cleaning supplies than I do on food!" Bonbon wailed, slumping toward the ground. "I managed to tip off a few mercenary teams that there was a plague zombie living at my house, but every time they show up Lyra somehow manages to hide him and most of the evidence that he lives with us! Now the human soldiers just think I'm some kind of paranoid neat freak and won't listen to me anymore!" Bonbon sobbed into her hooves, and Lily and Rose pet her back sympathetically.

Tox took a moment to ingest the frankly overwhelming amount of information she'd gathered from the mares in front of her, and stared up at the dark temple that dominated the Ponyville skyline.
Assuming that what the mares were telling her were correct - and discounting the prospect of humans eating their pony allies - it was rather surprising to Tox that there was so little visible discontent among the ponies. Then again, she supposed that itself suggested that much of what the four pony protesters said should be taken with a grain of salt.
"Very interesting," she murmured after a long pause, "no wonder you want the humans off the planet."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA!" Carrot Top replied. Tox suddenly realized that all four mares were staring at her in shock, and she quickly checked that she hadn't accidentally let her disguise down somehow.
"Who said anything about wanting the humans off the planet?" Carrot asked. "Are you crazy? We'd DIE!"
"Look, no matter how much we might dislike Chaos coming into our villages and setting up polluting smokestacks and evil temples, the Orks are way worse. They want to kill all of us just for fun. And there's no way we can deal with the Orks without the humans and their technology and scary religion."
"Some three thousand of them died fighting for Ponyville! They're heroes!"
"We just don't want them mucking up our village after the battle is over."
Tox stared hard at the ponies. "So... you want the humans to fight for you against the Orks... and then leave?"
"Yes," Rose confirmed.
"But leave PONYVILLE. Not the world," Bonbon clarified, "I mean, seriously, who cares if they set up shop in the badlands and stink the place up with their smog? They're the badlands."
"Uh-huh." Tox glanced up at the ponies' signs. "And you apparently aren't against them fighting the Orks, so why are you agitating for peace?"
"Well, peace in this case can only be achieved when every Ork on the planet is dead," Rose reasoned, "so really, I suppose we're arguing for the 38th Company to just fight them harder until the entire species is wiped off the face of the planet."
Tox recoiled. "I... I have to go. It was... nice speaking to you mares, I guess."
"Wait!" Lily shouted, causing the infiltrator to flinch. "We never actually introduced ourselves! I'm Lily, and this is Rose, Bonbon, and Carrot Top." She nodded. "Whether or not you support our resistance to human dominion, we at least want to welcome you to Ponyville! What's your name?"
"My name?" Tox's eyes narrowed. "I'm Tox. Good day." She turned sharply and trotted off, heading for the Nethalican.

"... Tox? Like... toxin?" Lily looked over at the other mares. "Huh. Do you think her special talent is chemical engineering?"
"Oh, Celestia," Bonbon groaned, planting a hoof against her forehead, "sixty bits says she'll be a Nurgle cultist before the end of the week."
"You're on!" Rose said.

Tox furrowed her brow as she walked across town, taking in the sights of the rebuilt village. She made a beeline for the Nethalican, wanting to get a better look at what constituted a human's place of worship.
The structure loomed larger as she approached the side, studying the architecture. It bore the same hard-angled, over-armored look as the other examples of human structures in town, but the temple was obviously different. For one thing, spikes and chains adorned much of the surface, serving no obvious purpose except to make the building look ridiculously evil. For another thing, there were skulls. A LOT of skulls. Mostly human skulls, but there were also Ork skulls and a few from various species in the Everfree Forest.
"Huh. No pony skulls? Not even one?" Tox mumbled, looking over the edifice.
Closer...
Tox took a step forward, staring at the slanted, matte black temple wall. There was nothing unique and interesting about that particular spot at all, and yet her eyes were transfixed, and her attention mesmerized.
Yesssss...
Tox reached out with a hoof and placed it flat against the wall. Her eyes went wide and her every nerve tingled. For a moment she thought that perhaps the outer wall of the temple was literally electrified, but it didn't feel at all like that. Sensation poured into her as if she had been suddenly dropped into a river of pure, wild emotion. She had never felt anything like it. Her horn flickered, and her heart hammered in her chest. Her vision turned into wavy oscillations of light and color, and her mind was saturated with the screams of a thousand dying men.

It was that last particular sensation that finally led Tox to flinch away from the wall of the temple. She stumbled over her own hooves in her haste to back away, spilling onto the bare, cracked ground while her breath heaving. Laughter boomed in her head; a dirge of cruel, joyless mirth that faded away as she scrambled a few feet further from the grim pyramid.
"What in the pits was that?" Tox whispered to herself, quivering. She had lost herself for a moment, that much was certain. Normally she would be the sort to immediately freak out when hearing voices in her head, yet hearing the whispers from before had only enticed her closer. Was this human magic? Some sort of bizarre technology? Did the ponies go through the same thing?
After calming down somewhat, Tox realized something else amazing: she was full.
As in, her reservoir of energy from all the love she had absorbed had been filled to its very capacity. Except that she hadn't absorbed any love recently. The last morsel she'd had was a mare she had ambushed, drained, and brainwashed three days ago. But she felt like she had just broken into a honeymoon resort and drank it dry.
Tox stumbled to her feet. Her thoughts raced a mile a minute. Where had the energy come from? The temple? When had she absorbed it? When she had physically touched it? Why? She hadn't been feeding! And what exactly had she absorbed, anyway? It definitely wasn't love, yet she was more energized and powerful than she could ever remember being in her short life. She felt like she could take on Celestia herself and hurl her into her own sun. Like she could march right into Ferrous Dominus and enslave the entire population on her own. Like she could juggle the Elements of Harmony like bright pastel-colored plastic balls. Like she could take one of those Iron Warriors and tear him limb from-
"Hey, yellow nerd, you all right? You've been standing there and staring for like five minutes."
Tox broke out of her mental daze, and then whipped around toward the source of the voice.
Then she quickly revised her last thought. She did not, in fact, feel like she could take an Iron Warrior apart upon actually seeing one.
"H-Hi..." Tox squeaked as she craned her head up.
"Hey," Tellis mumbled, arms crossed over his chest. His claws were extended for absolutely no reason, and they make a resonant keening noise as he let his arms fall to his sides. "You okay?"
Tox was now using her newfound strength to keep herself from quaking in fright. The man before her was huge, entirely covered in metal, and possessed of an alarmingly obvious aura of destructive malice. As a changeling, Tox was quite sensitive to the emotions of others, and she could feel hate rolling off the man's armor alone with an intensity that froze her in her tracks. He was absolutely the most terrifying thing she had ever seen, and he had done absolutely nothing so far except ask if she was in good health.
Oh, right. He had asked her something. Best not to ignore him, lest she get her face impaled on his claws. That would be quite detrimental to her mission.
"Y-Y-Yes," Tox stuttered, "I'm f-fine."
"You sure? You look like you just tripped on a Bloodthirster's whip," Tellis pointed out.
Tox didn't know what that was, and didn't care. She nodded rapidly, hoping that the Astartes would decide to leave.
"Okay, cool." Tellis looked left and right, and then leaned forward slightly. Tox leaned backward about twice that distance, ensuring that there was a net increase in the distance between them. "Hey, do you have any money?"
If Tox were not both a member of an elite class of warrior-spies and currently at maximum power, she was positive she would have soiled herself.
"N-No!" She shook her head furiously and decided - yes, DECIDED - that it would perfectly suit her current cover identity to start crying and begging for her life. "I'm sorry! I don't have anything! Please don't kill me! PLEASE don't kill me!!" she sobbed.
Tellis stood back again. "Geez, fine. I was just asking. I'm not mugging you or anything. Relax."
That brought Tox up short, and she sniffled loudly before blinking up at the Chaos Lord. "You're... You're not?"
"Of course not. It's just that I'm trying to scrape together a few hundred bits, see? And when I ask ponies about how I can get money, sometimes they give me donations." He paused. "Then they usually run away crying. I don't really get it, but I can't complain if they pay me."
Tox gulped. "They probably thought you were mugging them. Like I did."
Tellis considered that for a few seconds. "... Aw, crap, I think you're right. That's not good. Rainbow's gonna chew me out for this if she finds out." He turned away from the unfamiliar unicorn and walked off, stewing over this new information and still fifty bits short of his bet obligation.

As the Iron Warrior left, Tox quickly checked to see if anyone else was in the vicinity. Then she stared at the Raptor's back, and her eyes flared a bright green.
Tox's magic gently filtered through the form of the Astartes, taking in the details of his armor and the flesh beneath it. His DNA, his enhanced and corrupted body, and the mechanisms built around it into a flying suit of metal; Tox took it all in, observing the Astartes in a way no other species could with the intention of making his form her own.
And then she got a splitting hornache, so she stopped.
"Guh! It... It's no good?" she mumbled, staggering away from the site of her encounter. "Blast!"
Changeling magic had limitations on what it could copy, to be sure. A changeling couldn't mimic something too far beyond or below its own mass, which was the main thing stopping Chrysalis from deploying an army of changelings "disguised" as dragons to smash anything in its way. Sophisticated magical abilities, such as the petrifying gaze of a cockatrice, were only possible to replicate for someone as powerful as Chrysalis herself.
This was a completely new complication, however. If Tox had to guess, it was the sheer complexity of the man's armor that was mainly hindering her. Her magic could copy clothing easily enough, but clearly the armor suit was far more bizarre and complicated. She couldn't even copy the Iron Warrior's body without it either, because it was bonded directly to his skin for some stupid reason.
Clicking her tongue irritably, Tox scurried off to find somewhere to stay. She had only just arrived, but she had much to dwell on.
Starting with why one of the mighty Chaos Space Marines would be wandering around a town asking for spare change. And how he might get it now that he wasn't just taking it from ponies at random.

****

Ponyville - Sugarcube Corner

Carrot Cake gently adjusted his bow tie in his bathroom mirror, smiling to himself. He was dressed in a leisure suit jacket with his hair slicked back, and his fur had a faint scent of aftershave. It was his finest evening attire, and surely would have given Rarity an aneurysm were she to see him in it.
"Cup Cake! Are you ready to go?" he called as he exited the restroom.
His wife stepped out of their bedroom to meet him. She was wearing a polka-dot blouse and a deep layer of makeup, and seeing the older mare next to her husband in such attire would have upgraded Rarity's hypothetical aneurysm to a stroke.
"Gr-r-r-r-r!" Carrot made a throaty growling noise and wiggled his eyebrows, and Cup Cake cuffed his shoulder coyly.
"Come on, dear. Dest should be waiting for us," Cup trotted happily down the stairs, and Carrot followed eagerly.

Their foals, Pumpkin Cake and Pound Cake, were sitting in their playpen together and smashing their rattles together, more or less as they'd left them. And waiting in the main dining room of the bakery...
Carrot Cake stopped short in confusion and no small amount of fear. While there was indeed an Iron Warrior waiting for them, bearing huge claws, spiked armor, and an aura of otherworldly malice, it was not the one they expected.
"L-Lord Tellis? What are you doing here?" Carrot asked cautiously, motioning for his wife to stay back.
The Chaos Lord was sitting in the middle of the dining room, using four chairs that he had pushed together to face each other and share his weight. Even then, the furniture made for ponies seemed to be straining.
"Hey. Going out, right?" Tellis asked, pointing at Carrot Cake.
"Y-Yes. We're going to have dinner and then go to that new holo-theatre in town," the baker explained. Then he cleared his throat. "So... again, why are you here?"
"Well, you'll need someone to watch over the spawn, right? I'm your guy!" Tellis jabbed a thumb into his chest plate, slightly disturbing the Ork skull hanging from around his neck.
Cup Cake cringed. "That won't be necessary, Mister Tellis. Dest should be coming by any moment."
"No, he won't," the Iron Warrior replied.
The ponies’ faces paled.
Tellis emitted a sound half-way between an annoyed grunt and a sigh. "No, I didn't kill him."
The Cakes gasped in relief.
"But I DID ask him how an Astartes is supposed to get a job around here, and then he told me that you had asked him to guard your younglings for a nominal fee because he had earned your trust and respect. That sounded hard, though, so I just ordered him to go away so I could do his job instead."
"The trust and respect part is pretty important, though," Cup Cake pointed out.
"RELAX," Tellis implored the ponies, "I'm his superior officer. That means I can do anything he can do, but better."
"I have absolutely no reason to believe that's true," Carrot said, "do you even know what foal-sitting IS?"
"Actually, yes! After a rather embarrassing incident at that farm outside of town, I took the time to ask what I'm specifically supposed to do to foal-sit. Good thing, too, because the name of this job is REALLY misleading." Tellis stood up and pointed to the playpen. "I just need to make sure the little guys aren't hurt while you're gone. I've been told that also keeping the house from being damaged while you're away is something of a secondary objective."
The Cakes shared an uneasy glance.
"My apologies, Mister Tellis, but I just don't feel comfortable with leaving you alone with my children," Cup Cake decided firmly, shaking her head.
"I'll go see if I can find Dest. We'll probably be too late for dinner, but we can still make the vid screening," Carrot started to walk around Tellis.
Then a great metal hand seized him by the back of his neck. Carrot yelped in fear, and then stared up into the Raptor's visor again.
Tellis leaned over the stallion, being careful to put as little pressure into his grip as possible. "Okay, listen: I've been trying to be a nice guy about this. But I seriously need that money. So we can do this the legit, friendship-is-blah-blah-blah way, or the space pirate way. Either you two pay me to watch your younglings for the evening, or I kill everyone here and rob the place."
Tellis brought up one fist, swiping his claws through the air. Their power field flickered, emitting a sharp hiss and a whiff of ozone as they passed near Carrot's snout. The Cakes stared for a moment, their expressions unchanged, silently rolling Tellis's ultimatum about in their heads.
"... That is a REALLY easy decision," the baker said, displaying the sort of eerie, fearless calm that came from someone who had stared death in the face and resigned themselves to their fate. "Honey, we're going."
"Okay. The diaper bag is under the register, Mister Tellis. Bed time is eight o'clock," Cup Cake explained with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Tellis snorted. "You don't get to tell me when to go to bed. I'll stay up until nine if I want."
"What? No, I didn't-"
"Sugar muffin, don't argue with the crazy man," Carrot started leading his wife toward the front door, "come on, now. We're going to have a nice dinner and a movie, and everything is going to be JUST FINE."
Cup Cake spat out a dry, hollow laugh as she exited the bakery after her husband.
The door shut behind them, and then locked.

Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake crawled to the edge of their playpen, staring up over the edge to look at the shiny stranger they had been left with. Tellis walked over and picked up Pumpkin, holding her in the palm of his gauntlet.
"Hmmm. What to do..." the Chaos Lord mumbled. "I have a lot of time to kill, and I have to limit my activities to things that probably won't destroy you or the bakery."
Pumpkin leaned over his fingers and stretched a curious hoof toward the curved talons underneath her. Tellis retracted them with a thought, and the baby unicorn made a disappointed noise as the blades vanished.
"Oh, so you like that dangerous stuff, eh? Okay! How about I convert you two to Chaos?" Tellis asked.
The foals stared up at him.
"You'll have to be Undivided though. I can't teach you the ways of the Blood God since one of you is a unicorn, and I'm pretty sure you have to have the same cult since you're twins," the Chaos Lord explained. "I don't really know much about Nurgle and Tzeentch either, except for the best ways to murder their followers. Are you two cool with that?"
"Uguh," said Pumpkin.
"Gahba," added Pound.
"Sounds like an evening! Lemme go get some candles."

****

Badlands

"Oi, youz liddel runtz! Hurree it up!" snarled a Big Mek as he trudged through a blast crater. All around him lay the twisted remains of Ork vehicles and soldiers spread far and wide among columns of smoke. The battle had gone very poorly for the Orks, obviously, but Mek Badcrank didn't care; the boyz had gone out with style, and there were spare weapons and scrap lying about everywhere for the taking. A mob of Gretchin followed behind him, picking up anything small enough for them to carry and hauling it back to a Trukk parked at the edge of the devastation.
"Wotta we got 'ere?" Badcrank mumbled as he stared at some smashed rocks. There were numerous scorched Ork bodies around the rocks, but what was most interesting about them was that the bits of armor plating that were scattered around weren't from Ork or human technology.
He picked up a shard off the ground and held it up in front of the glowing yellow lens of his bionik eye. It resembled a piece of ceramic.
"Grayskins," Badcrank mumbled before flicking the shard aside. There wasn't any other sign of the scrawny aliens remaining, of course; the Tau always recovered their dead and damaged wargear when they could. Still, it was good to know exactly what kind of squishy weakling was skulking around the place.

Atop the smoldering remains of a Deff Dread overlooking the battlefield, a pair of glimmering green spots watched the Big Mek work. Gox was disguised via magic so that her carapace matched the color and texture of the smoke from her perch, although a steady stream of curious green sparks mixed with the plumes above her.
The aliens didn't notice. Nor had they noticed at any point over the past ten hours as Gox had stalked them, studying the brutes.
"Whaddya fink yer doin', ya idjit!" the big, armored Ork shouted before he pounded a Grot into a bloody smear.
Gox flinched uncomfortably at witnessing the sudden outburst of violence. She certainly didn't feel anything for the simpering little green creatures that the larger Orks seemed to use as servants, nor was she so weak-willed as to feel squeamish at the sight of death. But the sight of such casual, lethal violence disturbed her, if only because she was going to have to eventually pass for one of the green barbarians. Life had value, even to a changeling, and ending a life was only done in service to a greater goal. The Orks seemed to adhere to a completely opposite philosophy: killing itself had value, and the life of any given creature had to be weighed against the passing amusement gained by smashing it. It was - appropriately enough - a very alien concept to her.
"Oi, ya fink dere's sumfink gud 'round 'ere dat ain't on fiyah?" came a squeaky voice from behind her.
Gox turned around carefully, her dark blue mane shifting in an out of focus among her chameleonic magic. Two Grots were crawling around the wrecked walker, plucking bits of shrapnel from the ground.
Gox's eyes gleamed as she stepped along the ruined hull of her perch, wraith-like. The wretched scavengers were utterly oblivious to her presence, consumed with their petty chore of collecting metal.
Her lips curled into a wicked smile, and Gox attacked.

Even once the magic spell manifested, it was utterly noiseless. The Grot didn't notice anything was wrong until his partner was swallowed in glowing, bright green energy, and even then his first thought was how pretty the shiny light was.
It wasn't until his partner's eyes rolled back and he collapsed that the other greenskin considered running.
"B-B-Bo-" the Grot started stuttering as he turned to flee, but his voice died when a dark, quadrupedal figure dropped down in his path.
"Shush now, little insect," Gox sang, her horn glowing and her wings quivering, "you're mine, now."
Her second spell activated, and the Grot's eyes turned glassy as his knees shook. His jaw went slack, and the plates of twisted metal he was carrying fell from his limp fingers.
Gox took another moment to look around and ensure there was nobody nearby to stumble upon her while she worked. The next phase was absolutely critical, and it would require her full concentration. She had to probe the mental defenses of her victim, and then defeat the alien's will entirely. Only then would the hapless wretch be completely under her control and divulge the secrets she required. It could take several minutes, and success was not at all guaranteed.
"Now, then," Gox hissed, "tell me who you are, worm." Her horn flared brighter.
"Wotavah ya say, New Boss," the Grot said in a slightly happy, vacant tone, "da naym's Rutwutta."
Gox couldn't help but stare down at the Grot incredulously. She felt absolutely no resistance from the creature at all. "Are you being serious right now? Is this some kind of clever trick to get my guard down?"
"Durrrr... mebbee? Don' reely noh wot's goin' on, t'be frank wit'cha." Rutwutta swayed back and forth slightly, giddy from the feeling of having his natural free will and fear instincts suppressed. For a creature born into a life of brutal slavery and never-ending terror, being completely dominated was ironically quite liberating.
Gox wasn't quite convinced. Perhaps the creature was simply playing along while still resisting, somehow. "Then your 'New Boss' commands you to cut yourself on the leg with a bit of metal." Even a completely dominated subject would try to avoid harming itself subconsciously. She could judge precisely how much effect her spell REALLY had.
Gox quickly came to wish she hadn't overestimated the Gretchin, or that at least she had given him more specific orders. The Grot not only took up a shard of shrapnel and cheerfully plunged it into his leg, but he did it twice. And then three times. And four times. In fact, he wasn't stopping at all.
Gox could only gape for the first few seconds, but she snapped out of her shock when she noticed his other hand was groping around for another piece of metal so that he could start stabbing himself with both hands. "Okay! That's enough! Stop!" she whisper-shouted.
"Okee-day," the Grot said, letting the shrapnel fall from his blood-slicked hands. Then he fell over, on account of one of his legs being shredded down to the bone. "Ow."
Gox cringed as the Grot bled out into a rapidly expanding puddle, and her head whipped back and forth in another search for anyone nearby. There was no one.
"Okay, well, this puts me ahead of schedule in some ways, and at a disadvantage in other ways," the guardian mumbled, "tell me about the Ork down there."
"Dat's Mek Badcrank. He's a Big Mek," the Grot said deliriously.
"And what is a 'Big Mek'?" Gox asked.
"Mek Badcrank iz."
This prompted the changeling to slap a hoof into her face.
"Ugh. But what does he DO? Is he an officer? A soldier? A laborer?"
Rutwutta blinked slowly, his eyelids closing and opening again one at a time. "Badcrank mayks fings."
"Makes things?" Gox leaned closer, scowling as she worked through the alien's bizarre pronunciation. "So he's a craftsman, then? Or a weapon smith?"
Rutwutta sniffed the air and grinned. "Da ayr smellz kinda funnee." His eyelids started to flutter closed.
Gox suppressed a groan as her victim died, thinking back to her reaction at seeing one of the scrawny aliens slaughtered earlier. Perhaps she had been too quick in judging the larger alien.

Gox was working out whether or not to wake the second Grot when she heard a scraping noise behind her. In an instant, she leapt back behind the pile of wreckage, her carapace shimmering to match the clouds of ash.
Before long, a creature crawled out of the smoke and craters. Gox had a perfect view of it, but had absolutely no idea what it was. It was vaguely reptilian and obviously bipedal, but it was crawling about on all fours.
Or, fives, rather. It had an extra arm, small and twisted, sticking out of its left side. It seemed obviously malformed, which matched the rest of the creature's body. Its skin was badly damaged, and there appeared to be deep patterns of scars cut into it. As the creature approached, Gox felt an uncomfortable tingle in her horn. The monster was clearly magical in nature, although of a sort that she had never seen before and could probably do without seeing ever again.
The scarred, mutated thing crawled over the bits of shrapnel, wheezing through the side of its drooling mouth. It walked straight up to the Gretchin and sniffed at the two bodies: first the dead Grot, then the sleeping one.
Then it snapped up the sleeping Grot in its teeth and claws, shredding it apart in a sudden fit of rage.
Gox flinched back, surprised and disgusted by the beast's ferocity. She slipped further into the smoke trailing from the wrecked walker.
The creature stopped eating and snapped its head directly toward her. Blood and bits of torn Grot-flesh dribbled down its neck, and its eyes seemed to cloud over.
Gox remained perfectly still and silent, and her eyes ceased glowing against the backdrop of smoke. Even her heartbeat slowed to a crawl to absolutely minimize noise and energy use. The beast couldn't possibly see her, and her scent was completely masked by the burning oil and wreckage. It didn't really have anything that were obviously ears, even if her breathing were loud enough to be picked up among the crackling flames. She was safe.
But then the monster snarled and leapt directly at her anyway, which was total tauros droppings.

"Aaah!" Gox leapt up over the mutant as it struck, her wings buzzing loudly and the smoke column breaking around her movements. The beast's attack missed, and it landed badly on the side of the wreckage before slipping off and falling back to the dirt.
Gox quickly landed, terrified that her scuffle would alert the Orks she had been observing. However scary and dangerous this beast was, the greenskins were a much more serious threat. She was also regretting the slowed heart rate thing, because now Gox was having trouble adjusting her heartbeat toward something that might save her life.
The monster stood up on its legs, hunched over and twitching, and then it screeched. The noise was stuttering and sounded extremely painful to make, and also killed any small hope Gox had that she hadn't made enough of a racket to attract the Orks.
"Blast it all! Perish, monster!" the changeling guardian snapped while her horn began to glow.
The creature staggered forward, and then twisted sharply to the side. A sickening crack came from what may have been its rib cage, and then a fleshy tendril burst out of a swollen tumor and shot toward her with impressive speed.
"YEEP!" Gox released her spell just before the tentacle could reach her, and a glimmering arc of green magic sliced through the new, blood-soaked appendage. It fell to the ground, and the strange beast flinched back and started to howl.
Gox shuddered at the sound, but forced her focus toward her surroundings. She could hear the rumble of a Trukk engine approaching and the shouting of Orks, so she might have as little as a few seconds to escape and hide. She turned to run.
Then she felt something wet and surprisingly strong wrap around her hind legs and bind them.
"Oof!" Gox stumbled, and then looked back at what had caught her.
Her expression turned horrified when she saw that the severed tentacle had apparently entangled her of its own accord, even as blood squirted from its stump.
"Oh, Hive Mother, no!" Gox gasped. "I've seen enough Neighponese comics to know where this is going!"
The mutant creature snarled and started advancing on her again, its claws twitching in anticipation.

The arrival of the Trukk changed the dynamic of the fight in a heartbeat.
The monster swung its head toward the Orks and roared, completely oblivious to the dozen machine guns pointed in its direction or too insane to care.
The Orks opened fire, pouring countless bullets out the side of the vehicle while it curved around the pile of wreckage. The monster was shredded apart in an instant by the fusillade, and a puff of rainbow-colored fire blasted from its mouth before it collapsed onto the ground.
"Wot? Dat it?" complained a Shoota Boy as the Trukk rattled to a halt. "All da noys fer dat liddel runt?"
"Naw, wayt. Dere's sumfin' dere," grumbled the unit Nob. Resting his shoota on his shoulder, the larger Ork hopped down onto the blood-stained ground.
He walked past the corpses of the Gretchin, and only paused a moment to observe the fallen Black Hound. The daemonic mutant was rapidly decomposing even as he watched, as if the physical universe was trying to rid itself of the abomination as quickly as possible. Soon it would be nothing but bones, and then even those would be dust before nightfall.
The Nob looked past the Black Hound toward what was presumably its victim. A single Ork Boy was lying on the ground, struggling with a tentacle wrapped around his legs.
Without a word, the Nob drew a combat knife and sliced the tentacle apart, freeing the smaller Ork. Then he grabbed the boy's arm and hauled him up to his feet.
"Oi, fanks," the unfamiliar Ork said gruffly, "dat fing wuz-"
Then the Nob punched him in the stomach.
Gox fought to hold her disguise in place as she doubled over around the Nob's fist, wondering what had given her away so fast. Was her accent off? Was there some codified response that she had been expected to give? Or were the Orks somehow gifted with natural senses that allowed them to immediately discern their own from any fakes?
"Dat'z wotcha git fer lettin' dat fing git da drop on youz," the Nob chuckled as Gox stumbled backward and wobbled. "Wot'z yer naym, Grot-lovah?"
Or perhaps they just punched each other all the time, whenever they had any kind of excuse. Could be that.
"I'm... er... da naym's Gox," Gox spat out between pained coughs, "you'z da boss?"
"Yeh. Me an da boyz jus' got a Mek ta fiks up da Trukk, so we'z heddin' ta wun of da biggah tribes up da hills. Ya wit' us?"
Gox nodded, steeling herself. This was the critical point of contact, where she needed to dispel any initial suspicions she generated as an outsider and establish a cover that wouldn't be questioned by the group leader. And even after succeeding in that most basic goal, what she said now could make or break her future with the group if she wasn't careful.
"Yeh, I'm witcha." Gox rolled her jaw into a scowl. "I wuz wit da uddah mob dat hit da arma-"
A green-knuckled backhand blew her back off of her feet, and Gox felt her disguise magic waver for a split second when she hit the ground.
"Shaddup and le's go," the Nob grunted, turning away just before Gox's skin flickered from green to black.
Gox's disguise recovered in an instant, and after a quick check to see if she had swallowed any teeth she was scrambling back to her feet. Her jaw was bleeding and her head was spinning, but her targets had practically rolled out a red carpet for her infiltration effort.
"Git in an' git a shoota," the Nob growled as he climbed back into the Trukk. Then he clocked the Trukk's driver in the side of the head. "Oi! Moov it!"
Gox scrambled to climb up the bed of the transport vehicle as it accelerated, and even once she was "safely" inside the bed she found herself bouncing and shaking violently from the harsh terrain and the laughable condition of the vehicle's shock absorbers.
Gox managed to stumble to the back of the Trukk - only getting kicked twice by other passengers busy looking for something to shoot - and reached a small barrel with a few loose guns rattling around.
"Izzis fing held togeddah wif gum r'wot?" Gox growled as she looked over the weapon. Mainly the complaint was a chance to practice her Ork, which she needed much sooner than originally anticipated, but it was a legitimate question. She barely understood the scientific principles behind firearms, but she was at least fairly certain the barrel of the gun was supposed to be straight.
"Lissen up, ya Grot-lovin' sops!" the Nob suddenly roared while the Trukk rocked violently back and forth. "We'ze gonna hed bakk to Boss Brakk's camp fer now! But if'n ya see da measly runts wot jumped da boyz, ya lite 'em up, yeah?"
Gox briefly considered asking the unit leader to clarify if the "measly runts" he referred to were the same ones who had evidently massacred an entire Ork raiding party. She held her tongue, however; she had the impression that intelligent questions like that were usually answered with a fist to the gut.
Then she got a fist to the gut anyway after the shaking Trukk caused her to bump another passenger.
As she leaned over the edge of the transport bed and gasped, Gox could only hope that they didn't run into any opposition on the way back to this camp. The infiltration of the Orks had proven to be abnormally easy, but she had a feeling there were going to be many other, more painful obstacles to completing her mission.

****

Ponyville - Sugarcube Corner

Carrot Cake nodded his head tepidly before taking up the key to the front door in his mouth.
"Well, everything's still standing. I don't see any fires..."
Cup Cake chewed her lip almost hard enough to draw blood as her husband unlocked the bakery. "It's just caring for a couple of foals. Everything will be fine. I'm sure he's not THAT stupid. Or incompetent. Or... insane and bloodthirsty and reckless and violent and-"
"Breathe, sugar muffin," Carrot reminded her before slipping the key back into his pocket. Then he pushed his way into his home and business.

The first thing that both baker ponies noticed was that it dark inside the bakery, as all the lights were out. The second thing they noticed was the sound of snoring cutting through the darkness.
Mentally bracing themselves for whatever horrors had befallen their children, they turned on the lights.
Tellis was sitting on the ground, against the bakery counter, sleeping.
"Snxkz! Wh-Wha? Who goes there?" the Iron Warrior jerked upright, almost falling over at being woken up.
The Cakes looked around the bakery, feeling reluctantly impressed. There were no blood splatters, dead bodies, or really any significant mess of any kind. Although the counter now had several new dings and scratches from Tellis's wings and there were numerous used candles set out on a few tables.
"Oh, it's you guys. Cool. Enjoy the movie?" Tellis mumbled. He rubbed at the visor of his helmet, which generated an awful scraping noise and probably didn't help him at all.
"It was okay. Not Quentin Palamino's best work, in my opinion," Carrot said awkwardly, "so... where are the foals?"
"Sleeping upstairs, in their crib," Tellis jabbed a thumb behind him toward the stairs, "alive and completely unharmed, just the way you like them."
The Cakes hurried upstairs while trying not to look like they were hurrying.
They were reasonably surprised, and VERY pleased, to turn on the lights to their room and see their foals curled up next to each other in their crib.
"Wow. I'm... I'm impressed," Carrot admitted after taking a moment to make sure both pony foals were breathing and not elaborate decoys.
"Told you. No big deal at all," Tellis scoffed.
"What did you do for most of the night?" Cup Cake asked, feeling somewhat dazed that everything had actually turned out okay.
"Mostly told 'em stories and stuff. Don't worry, I had the profanity filter on the entire time." Tellis nodded to himself in satisfaction. "Then they did some drawing and fell asleep."
"Oh, and here it is!" Cup Cake spotted a large sheet of paper covered with crayon scrawls. There were a great number of random arrows and curiously arcane-looking scribbles scattered over the page, along with what appeared to be a stick-figure drawing of a pony tearing apart some kind of two-headed eagle.
"Oh, my! We have a pair of little artists on our hooves!" Cup Cake giggled. She wasn't especially worried that the Star of Chaos was drawn in a big circle around the rest of the images. After all, the icon was all over the place nowadays. She was sure her children had just spotted it somewhere and copied it for their picture.
And she was sure that sense of creeping dread in her gut was simply a confused sort of relief that her children were still alive and well.

"Well, I have to admit, you did a much better job than we expected!" Carrot Cake said happily while leading Tellis down the stairs.
"Told ya," the Iron Warrior muttered, "so, where's the money? I have debts to pay, and for the first time in my life that phrase isn't a euphemism for revenge killing."
"Sure!" The baker stuck his head under the counter for a few seconds, and then emerged with a small bag of coins. "In fact, if you're interested in more foal-sitting work, I could let Berry Punch know that you're available! She has a hard time finding somepony to watch her filly on short notice, and isn't all that particular about who does the job."
"I already got some money from her," Tellis informed him while taking the bag, "so I'm not allowed near her house anymore. Or that corner of town."
Carrot arched an eyebrow.
"It was my first idea for making cash," the Iron Warrior explained, "taking money to stay away from certain areas. I actually had a lot of buyers, but before I even covered half my debt more than half of Ponyville was pretty much off-limits to me. I decided to stop before I got pushed out of town."
Carrot nodded slowly. "I can see why ponies would have a lot of interest in that, uh... investment."
"You're telling me! The Mayor was following me around for like an hour trying to pay me to leave forever." Tellis paused. "I feel like there's some kind of subtext to this that I'm missing, but I'm sleepy. Later."
The Iron Warrior turned away so suddenly that his flight pack nearly struck Carrot Cake, but the baker managed to duck in time before Tellis walked out of the building. He followed cautiously, and then closed and locked the door as soon as he heard the sound of rocket boosters screaming outside.
"Well... all things considered, that went WAY better than I had any right to expect," Carrot said happily as he turned back toward the stairs.
A spot of red fell from above, landing on the tip of his nose. Carrot Cake froze in place, and his heart rate surged to a dangerous pace.
His eyes slowly tracked upward. On the ceiling, smeared over the tiling in bright crimson, was the Mark of Khorne: a stylized "X" with a horizontal line through it and a comb-like block below it, such that it resembled a skull. Carrot Cake's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
Then, after a few seconds of breathless silence, he suddenly licked the tip of his nose.
"... Red gel frosting," the baker mumbled, "yeah. MUCH better than I had any right to expect."
He sighed and trotted upstairs to bed.