//------------------------------//
// Chapter 10 
// Story: A Foul Light Shines 
// by Karazor 
//------------------------------//


Chapter Ten


It was hours before the vehicle returned, and Twilight noticed a change in the humans’ attitude right away.  Where before Tangro had done the lion’s share of the talking, now Anderocus took over, with Tersiaard chiming in when facts were needed.  The Lord-Captain was far less coy than his seneschal had been, and Twilight quickly realized that the humans actually had quite a bit to offer.  Amongst other things, they had offered the use of powerful mining machines to help gather the ores they needed.  Twilight wondered anew just how large this ship of theirs could be; the machines they were describing would be by their very nature enormous, and of limited general utility.  Tersiaard commented that the devices had been stored in a secondary hold for a very long time… how much space must the regular holds boast, that they could afford to waste so much of it on equipment they weren’t using?

Seria did return before dark, accompanied by ten more guards.  She insisted on sending the eight survivors of the original squad back up, arguing that it was time for a duty rotation.  The commander seemed rejuvenated, her injuries not even bothering her, and Twilight made a note of what had to have been extremely sophisticated medical treatment.  That would have helped Rainbow Dash, for example, who had been informed that she’d be spending the night at the Ponyville clinic, just in case.

Twilight was feeling optimistic, as the sun went down.  Despite the horrible occurrences of the day, it seemed like things might finally be looking up.




Gray Nimbus trudged through the Ponyville streets in the early hours of the morning, her horseshoes dragging slightly in the dirt.  This night shift business was exhausting, keeping the weather nice overnight so the diplomats wouldn’t be uncomfortable in the morning.  As second in command of the weather patrol, overseeing the night shift had fallen to her, since the Princess’s representative had specifically wanted her boss to be available for the negotiations.

Privately, Gray Nimbus questioned the wisdom of that.  She had a lot of respect for Rainbow Dash, but diplomacy really wasn’t one of the younger pegasus’s strong points.  She just hoped her boss could avoid making the aliens too angry.

At least her shift was over, and she was almost home.  She needed to make breakfast for her foal and make sure he got to school on time, then she’d be able to collapse and finally get some sleep.  She was so tired at this point she could barely stay on her hooves, and couldn’t even fly, so it really wasn’t going to be fun getting all that done.  She’d manage, though; she’d done alright for the past few days.

Gray Nimbus heard a thin hiss, and was surprised by the sudden sting in her side.  The pegasus swished her tail, thinking a bug had bitten her.  She heard something fall to the ground and, turning her head, spotted a tiny dart lying in the road, the thin, sharp tip stained red.  She blinked uncomprehendingly at it for an instant, before her legs gave out and she collapsed into the dust.




Magos Tersiaard watched the small winged xeno drop from where he’d concealed himself within a shadowed alleyway.  He’d judged the paralytic agent’s dosage perfectly, as behooved a senior Magos of the Adeptus Mechanicus.  The sense of satisfaction he felt at making the precise calculation marked him as unusual among tech-priests; even with large portions of his weak organic brain replaced by sacred silicon and metal in imitation of the perfection of the Machine, he still retained vestiges of the towering ego he’d possessed as an acolyte, back when he was made almost entirely of meat.  Eight centuries of life and an augmetic cortex wasn’t nearly enough to erase that.  

This eccentricity was part of the reason he’d wound up on a Rogue Trader crew in the first place, rather than running a forge world as most of his rank did.

Tersiaard’s intense curiosity, on the other hand, was fairly normal for a roaming tech-priest, even if it verged on heresy at times.  He’d repeatedly asked the pony-xenos how they managed their astonishing feats of weather control, but had found the answers they supplied him with to be utterly unsatisfactory.  He’d been delighted (another emotion unusual in a high-ranking Magos) when the lord captain had agreed that the ability deserved further study, and had finally given him the go-ahead for his experiments.  Since then, Tersiaard had been watching for this opportunity.  One of the weather-worker-type xenos, alone in an empty street?  It was a gift from the Omnissiah, too perfect to pass up.

He twittered a binaric command, sending two of his servo-skulls swooping to hover over the prone, dark blue form of the little xeno.  He noticed as he made his way over that its large gray eyes were wide open and locked on one of the flying servitors.  That was as it should be; the paralytic agent was inhibiting most of its voluntary muscle movements, but it was fully conscious.  Brain function was one of the things he’d have to monitor while he was doing his tests, after all, and it wouldn’t do at all to contaminate his results.




Gray Nimbus couldn’t move, no matter how hard she tried.  It was a terrifying feeling.  Her legs were all tangled up from her fall, but she couldn’t untangle them.  Her wings lay limp in the dirt, and all the willpower she possessed couldn’t even get them to twitch.  It couldn’t be simple exhaustion; she’d been more tired than this before, and she’d never suffered this kind of paralysis!  All she could do was move her eyes, looking frantically around the street and hoping somepony would notice her predicament and be able to help.  She saw her little colt, Cirrus, peeking out of the window of her home, and tried to silently impel him to go get the nurse.

She was distracted by a quiet, high-pitched whining noise somewhere nearby, and was startled to see one of the flying skull-things that accompanied the human diplomats fly over her head and hover in front of her.  She hated the macabre little things, finding them to be intensely creepy.  This was the closest she’d ever been to one, and… is that actual bone?  These things are really skulls?!  She’d thought they’d just been unsettlingly realistic sculptures!

Still, creepy as it was with the glowing red lights in its hollow, dead eye sockets and with its slightly terrifying skeletal grin, she was glad to see it.  If one of the flying skulls was here, it meant one of the humans was probably nearby.  She’d spoken to some of them before, and they’d seemed like nice folk; surely they’d help!

Gray Nimbus heard quiet, heavy thumping approaching her from the side, and felt a sense of relief.  Those were human footfalls or she was a phoenix: they’d get her to the hospital. 

The footsteps sounded odd, though.  Heavier than she remembered them sounding.  Maybe it was just because she was lying flat on the ground.

The human stepped into her field of view and stopped, and her relief curdled in her stomach.  It was the big metal one in the red robes; the one with all the extra metal limbs and tentacles that nearly everypony was at least a little bit scared of.  This close, it smelled like spiced oil and hot metal, and a strong scent of ozone and burnt incense clung to it.  Gray Nimbus wanted to sneeze as the scent burned in her nose, but her body wouldn’t obey.  She was even more terrified now than she had been when she’d collapsed.

Maybe I’m doing him a disservice.  He… he may be perfectly nice, scary as he looks.  She tried to calm herself down.  The insect-like metal human wasn’t one of the ones she’d talked to; her brief conversations with the humans had been limited to the armored guards.  As far as she knew, this one had barely talked to anypony, and at the moment she really, really hoped that he was just shy.

A metallic, tentacular appendage sprouting from the human’s back waved over her paralyzed body, lights blinking on the end of it.  Another limb extended from high on his shoulder and poked at her uncomfortably.  She gazed pleadingly into its face, trying to wordlessly ask it for help.  The three green glass lenses set into the metallic mass of its face gleamed expressionlessly under the shroud of its gold-trimmed red cowl, and she tried to fight against the encroaching feeling that this was not a nice person at all.  It made a weird, chattering noise, and the flying skull in front of her moved, sprouting a pair of long mechanical limbs.




Magos Tersiaard double-checked the readings on his vitae scanner, satisfied that the xeno fell within the norms he’d recorded for its species.  Normal.  Build was normal, muscle resilience was normal, it had a dark blue coat and feathers with light grey mane and tail, and a cloud marking on its rump, nothing exceeding standard margin of error.  Additionally, this individual matched up in color, profile, and markings with one he’d previously observed performing the weather modifications he was interested in.  Perfect.  The Omnissiah had truly smiled upon him today.

He had many, many tests he wanted to perform.  He twittered another binaric command to his servo-skulls, and they each extended a set of utility mechadendrites.  Hovering over the xeno’s still form, they carefully worked their limbs underneath it and lifted it gently into the air.  Tersiaard’s lander was close by, and he turned to follow the servo-skulls as they bore his test subject toward it.  He voxed a command to his subordinate tech-priests aboard the Lux Foedis, instructing them to push Gellar field repair priority down one level and ready his vivisectorum chamber.  Hypotheses and possible experiments and tests flicked through his augmetic cortex as he planned his agenda.  Several days would likely be required, and he dispatched a third servo-skull bearing notice of his probable extended absence to Lord-Captain Anderocus.  The Rogue Trader could do without him for a few days; there was no rush.

Questions ran through his mind.  If the xenos’ ability was mechanistic in nature, perhaps he could adapt one or another of the sacred template constructs to mimic it.  If not, perhaps he could imprint it within a clone-psyker, or a gene-cultured biological vatstrain.  If all else failed, he would see if the ability survived servitor conversion.  He ran a quick mental inventory, going over the contents of his shipboard manufactoria and maintenance bays.  There were several organs he’d have to make sure his examinations didn’t damage excessively, or it would be unlikely that he would successfully adapt the little xeno into a servitor.  Perhaps he should test his ability to repair the xenos organs?  That would definitely matter, especially in the long run.  Or perhaps he could clone replacements…

Tersiaard’s auspex scanners had noted the juvenile xeno watching him from the window of a nearby dwelling.  They now noted said winged juvenile departing the structure at a run.  As before, he dismissed it as unimportant.  No one really listened to the excitable chattering of organic juveniles, and he’d be off-planet momentarily anyway.

Mind buzzing with plans, Tersiaard followed the servo-skulls bearing his prize, instructing a fourth skull-servitor to follow behind him and erase the traces of his passage from the dirt road, just in case.  A small subroutine added to his pleased demeanor, noting that it had been a long time (twelve years, thirty-five days, six hours and eight minutes) since the vivisectorum had been used.  Not since he’d taken that Kroot apart.  What an education that had been!




Cirrus bolted out of his home, looking frantically for help.  His stubby legs carried him at a surprising speed as he ran through the empty street towards his school, reasoning that Mommy had told him to find a teacher if he was ever in trouble.  He wasn’t in trouble, but he thought Mommy was!  He’d thought Mommy was just playing a game when she fell down in the street, but then the scary metal bug-giant had come and taken her away!  He panted, wishing his wings were strong enough to carry him.  The streets were empty, as they nearly always were this early in the morning, but Cirrus was sure Miss Cheerilee would be at the school; she always got up early!  She would know what to do, how to get Mommy back!




Twilight awoke to the sound of knocking at her door.  She glanced at the window, noting that the sun was barely rising, and jammed her pillow down over her head.  Argh, just a few more minutes.  

The knocking didn’t stop, though, and Twilight finally rolled out of the comfortably-warm embrace of her blankets to deal with whoever was at her door this early.  Spike opened one eye as she made her way out, mumbling, “Tell ‘em to come back later.  We’re closed.”

Twilight laughed quietly.  “I sure will, Spike.  Go back to sleep.”

The lavender unicorn made her way quickly down the staircase, opening her front door and blinking at the grey light of dawn.  Standing in front of her door, hoof still raised, was a worried-looking burgundy earth pony mare with a pink-streaked mane.  “Cheerilee?  Wha?”  Was the most eloquent inquiry the unicorn was able to manage just after waking up.

“Twilight!  Thank goodness!”  The unicorn reflected that Cheerilee was far too talkative for this early in the morning.  “Maybe you can help me sort out this… disturbing news.”

“Disturbing… huh?”  Twilight blinked, sleepily.  Had the other mare already told her something, and she’d missed it?

“Come on, child.  Tell Miss Twilight what you told me,”  Cheerilee prompted to what Twilight thought at first was her own tail.  Closer examination revealed a white-coated young pegasus colt hiding behind the teacher, which made far more sense than Cheerilee talking to her own tail.

“Th- they took Mommy!”  The colt blurted out, as Twilight made eye contact with him.  Startled and confused, Twilight looked to the teacher for clarification.

“Tell her the whole story, dear.”  Cheerilee said.

The colt sniffled.  “Okay, Miss Cheerilee.”  He leaned out from behind the teacher to talk to Twilight.  “I was up early, ‘cause Mommy gets home early in the morning, an’ I wanted to see her!  I saw her coming down the street, but then she fell down!  And the scary giant metal bug took her!”  The colt was on the verge of tears.  “Please, Miss Twilight, get Mommy back!”

The unicorn shook her head again, confused.  “Uh, Cheerilee?  What’s he talking about?”

Cheerilee sighed.  “Cirrus here is Gray Nimbus’s foal.  As far as I can tell, she was coming home this morning, fell down in the street, and Cirrus saw that big metal human with the green glass eyes take her away.”

That only confused Twilight more.  “What, Magos Tersiaard?  Why would he take Gray Nimbus anywhere?”

Cheerilee’s troubled expression started to register on Twilight’s sleep-fogged brain.  “I don’t know, but I can’t find her.  When Cirrus found me at the schoolhouse, I thought he’d just had a nightmare, but when I took him home, there was no sign of her.  This is about the time that the late-shift weather team goes home, and she should have been there, but she’s nowhere to be found.”

“I see,”  Twilight answered, starting to grow worried herself.  “I’ll go down to the house where the humans are staying.  I’m sure they…”

She was interrupted by the thunderous roar of one of the human air vehicles starting its engines.  Her head whipped toward their landing field as the blast of noise ripped the early-morning peace apart, and saw the huge red-and-gold vehicle that the Magos had arrived in lifting slowly away from the ground.  It rotated, pointing its nose skyward, and thundered almost straight up at a speed Rainbow Dash would have been hard-pressed to match.

As the immense noise of the human vehicle receded, Twilight turned to meet Cheerilee’s wide-eyed gaze.  “Cheerilee, can you look after Cirrus?  I think we may have a major problem.”

The schoolteacher nodded, ushering the young foal back to the schoolhouse.  Twilight shook herself, thoroughly awakened by the sudden blast of noise, and set off toward the building where she’d arranged for the humans to stay.  Tersiaard couldn’t seriously have abducted Gray Nimbus, could he?  I heard Anderocus specifically tell him not to disturb us!  Well, this is pretty darn disturbing!

Quite a few ponies were poking their heads out of their homes as Twilight trotted along the street, doubtless awakened by the vehicle’s departure.  Outside the clinic, Twilight saw a grumpy-looking Rainbow Dash making her way somewhat stiffly in the same direction Twilight was going.

“Hey, Twilight,”  Rainbow greeted her, “You gonna yell at Anderocus for waking the whole town up, too?”  The pegasus scowled.  “I was having the best dream, too…”

“No, Rainbow,”  Twilight answered, her voice serious.  “I just talked to Cheerilee and Cirrus.  Do you know Cirrus?”

Rainbow’s brow wrinkled in thought.  “Cirrus, Cirrus… nah, don’t know him.  Sounds like a pegasus name, though.”

“He is a pegasus, Rainbow.  He’s Gray Nimbus’s colt.”

Rainbow shrugged.  “Okay.  So?  Why are you talking like it’s a big deal?”

“Because I think he saw Magos Tersiaard abduct his mother.  That vehicle that just took off was the Magos’s, too.”  Twilight really hoped that wasn’t what had happened.

The pegasus looked incredulous.  “Tersiaard abducted Nimbus?  No way.  The guy’s a jerk, yeah, not to mention spooky-weird, but why would he do that?”

“I’m not sure, Rainbow.  Hopefully, he didn’t; I’m going to talk to Captain Anderocus right now to find out.”  The pegasus followed the academic, though ‘follow’ wasn’t quite the right term when the individual doing the following refused to actually fall behind the one who was nominally leading.

What Twilight saw when they reached the humans’ accommodations made her heart sink.  All of them were standing outside, looking up at the sky.  Anderocus, Seria, and Deumos were speaking to one another in worried voices.

“Lord-Captain!”  Twilight called out as she approached, causing the discussion to cease abruptly.  “I hope you have an explanation for this!”  I’ll give him a chance to tell me what he knows before I start getting mad.  Twilight thought.

Anderocus cleared his throat.  “Ah, yes.  It would appear that an emergency has arisen aboard our ship that urgently required the Magos’s attention.  I apologize for alarming your town’s populace, but it was a time-critical matter.”  Seria, possibly demonstrating why she normally wore a mask, shot an incredulous look at the dark-maned male.

Twilight fixed Anderocus with a steady glare.  “I see.  Now please explain why the Magos needed to bring Gray Nimbus along.”

“I’m… sorry?  Who or what is Gray Nimbus?”  Anderocus asked, brow creasing in puzzlement.

“She’s part of my weather team,”  Rainbow growled.

Twilight explained further.  “Tersiaard was seen abducting her a few minutes ago, shortly before his vehicle lifted off.”

Anderocus’s jaw dropped open in what looked like completely honest shock.  “What?!”  Seria and Deumos looked just as stunned as their leader, sharing a disbelieving glance.  “Are you… are you seriously saying that Magos Tersiaard abducted one of your people?”

“Yes, Lord Captain, I am.  I’d like an explanation, but more importantly, I’d like Nimbus back.”  Rainbow echoed the sentiment enthusiastically.

Anderocus covered his mouth with one hand for a moment, looking horrified.  “I don’t… please believe me, Lady Twilight, I did not order him to do this!”  He turned to his retainers.  “Commander, get your guard squad to the Aquila, and vox ahead to have the remainder of the household guard on alert.”  Seria nodded crisply, turning to her subordinates.  Anderocus turned back to the unicorn.  “Lady Twilight, you have my abject apologies.  With your permission, I will leave immediately to recover your missing compatriot.  I have no idea what Magos Tersiaard was thinking, but I will strive to correct this… this error!”

Not good enough.  “That sounds like an excellent idea, Lord-Captain, but with one addition:  I’m coming with you.”

“I am too!”  Rainbow growled, next to her.

Twilight turned to face the pegasus.  “Rainbow, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.  You’re still hurt, and…”

“Buck that.”  Rainbow interrupted, rudely.  “It’s just bruises, I’ll be fine.  Nimbus is on my team, if she needs help, I’m coming along!”  Rainbow’s mulish look told Twilight that she wasn’t budging on the issue.

Twilight nodded to the pegasus and turned back to the human.  “We’re both coming along, Lord-Captain, and that’s my final word on the subject.”  She was hoping to avoid argument.

Anderocus’s mouth moved soundlessly for a few moments.  Finally he shook his head and said, “Very well.  But please, once we’re aboard the Lux Foedis, I implore you both to listen closely and to do what we tell you; the environment aboard the starship will be very different from anything you’ve seen before, and it can be very dangerous.”

Twilight considered that fair.  “We accept your stipulation.  Please, lead the way.”  The two ponies followed the human group out to the landing field, and despite the situation, Twilight couldn’t help but be excited.  They were going to be flying into space!  Higher than anypony had ever been, except for Princess Luna, obviously.  She didn’t think they’d be going all the way to the moon.  And Twilight was going to get to see the human ship!  She’d wondered ceaselessly about it since first hearing about it.  A glance at Rainbow Dash suggested that the pegasus felt similarly, though she actually looked even more anxious than Twilight felt.

Biting her lip, Rainbow moved closer to Seria as they walked.  “Hey, Seria, you don’t think the Magos is gonna hurt Nimbus, do you?”

“I’m not sure.”  Seria answered after a brief pause.  “I… frankly, I prefer not to speculate.”

Rainbow bit her lip again, looking slightly sick.

The group maintained a grim silence until they reached the remaining vehicle, the ‘Aquila’ as they referred to it.  Twilight and Rainbow followed Lord Anderocus up the ramp, and the shivery sense of excitement in Twilight’s stomach got stronger as she felt the unaccustomed sensation of her hooves ringing on solid metal.

Inside the vehicle were several rows of seating, with complex, heavy straps attached.  Anderocus sat down, quickly strapping himself in without a word, and the two ponies found themselves slightly at a loss as they gazed uncomprehendingly at the arrangement of restraints.

Fortunately, the other humans were paying more attention than their leader.  Seria helped Rainbow strap in next to her, and somewhat to Twilight’s surprise, Confessor Deumos took it upon himself to help the unicorn, seating her next to him.  Twilight could hear Rainbow talking nervously to Seria, but Deumos maintained his customary stony silence, after he made sure she was secure.

The lift-off was… an experience.  It hadn’t occurred to Twilight to think about what it would be like to ride a rocket, but it was very different from anything she’d done before.  The Aquila shuddered and rattled, and Twilight could feel herself getting heavier as the vehicle surged off of the ground.  It was more than a bit terrifying.  At least for the unicorn; a quick glance at the huge grin pasted on Rainbow Dash’s face indicated that the pegasus wasn’t having the same problems Twilight was.

The thunderous noise didn’t last all that long, dwindling to a steady rumble that wasn’t enough to impair conversation.  Twilight realized that, all other things considered, she probably wasn’t going to get a better opportunity to talk to Confessor Deumos than this, as they were both effectively a captive audience, at least for the moment.  And she did have some things she really needed to ask him.

“Um… Confessor?”  Twilight asked timidly.  When he didn’t respond, she said a bit louder, “Confessor?”

Deumos grunted, glancing at her.  “What?”

“I… well, we’re kind of stuck here until we get to your ship, so I was wondering… could you please tell me about your Emperor?”  Twilight looked into Deumos’s eyes, her gaze pleading.

Deumos grunted again, with an air of inquiry.  “Why?”

Twilight considered how best to answer.  “Well, all of you refer to him fairly regularly,” she hazarded, “and he’s clearly an important figure to you.  I think it would help me to understand your people better if I knew more about him.”

The priest stared at her suspiciously.  Before he could speak, Seria’s voice rang out from the other side of him, “Emperor’s blood, Deumos, just tell her.  What harm could it do?”

“What good could it do, I ask.”  Deumos growled back, but he turned to study Twilight again.  “What do you want to know about the Master of Mankind?”

“I was hoping you could tell me something about his life.  And maybe, about where he his now?”  Twilight asked, the crack in the priest’s grim façade lending her hope.

“Hmm.”  Deumos rubbed his chin pensively.  “I suppose I could tell you.  In fact, I can tell you more than most Imperial citizens know, for in my service to the Ecclesiarchy, I have learned much of what is not told to the lay citizenry.”

“Oh, yes please, that would be wonderful!”  Twilight exclaimed, eyes shining in the delight she always felt when learning something new.

So Deumos told the unicorn the story of the God-Emperor of Man.  He told her of his grand ambition, to reunite the scattered shards of humanity under a single banner.  He told her of the great conquest of Terra, and the unification of the birth world and Mars that was the foundation of the Imperium.  Of the vast Crusade Fleets he sent out.

He told her of the sons the Emperor had made; shining generals cast in his image, leaders of the Crusade, and the greatest heroes of Man.  He told the story of their scattering, and the Emperor’s quest to find his lost sons.  He spoke of the Great Crusade triumphant, led by the Emperor and the mighty generals he had forged.

And then he told her of the creeping darkness.  How the whispers of the Ruinous Powers had crept into the ears of the Emperor’s sons.  How the Emperor’s favored son, the great and shining Horus, was seduced by those whispers, abandoning his father’s goal and seeking to slay the living god that had made him.

He told the story of the Great Heresy, when fully half of the Emperor’s sons had sided with their brother Horus rather than their father, and the shattering, ruinous war that had followed.  Of the Siege of Terra, where Horus’s forces had hurled themselves against the very place of their birth, seeking to slay their father and put Horus in his place.  He told her of the final confrontation between the Emperor and his beloved son, with Horus’s murdered brother Sanguinius lying at their feet, and how the Emperor had realized too late that his son could no longer be saved.  How the Emperor had finally slain Horus, but not before the great traitor had struck a deathblow.

Twilight was holding back tears during much of the story, allowing them to flow freely as Deumos described the end of the battle between the Emperor and Horus, and the stalwart, loyal Dorn arriving late, finding his father dying beside the corpses of his two brothers.

“So the Emperor is dead, then?”  Twilight asked, as Deumos finished his tale.

The priest shook his head.  “No.  The Emperor is trapped, halfway between death and life, kept alive by the technosorcery of the Golden Throne, and sustained by the sacrifice of ten thousand psykers a day.  Soon, though, the Emperor will heal himself, and step off of the Throne to lead his people to glory once again.  I only hope I will live to see it.”

Twilight was appalled.  Sustained by ten thousand sacrifices a day?  She knew Celestia would rather die than survive at such a price, and she suspected that her sister Luna would feel the same way.  And he’d been trapped like that for ten millennia?  That meant… that was billions of deaths.  How could she possibly tell Princess Luna that that had happened to her friend?  Deumos didn’t notice her internal conflict, clearly lost in religious rapture at the retelling of his deity’s tale.

She was shaken out of her horrified reverie by Seria’s voice, as the commander leaned across the confessor to speak to her.  “Excuse me, Lady Twilight?”

The unicorn shook her head, refocusing.  “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation with the Confessor, but Rainbow tells me that you would probably be interested in seeing the Lux Foedis as we approach.  Would you like that?”  Twilight was about to object, wondering how she was supposed to see anything with no windows nearby and the straps holding her in place, when she noticed that all of the humans had unfastened their harnesses.  She was, in fact, the only one in the compartment still strapped in; Rainbow was clearly leaning forward in her seat, too.  Her horn glowed softly as she sheepishly undid the restraints, noting the pegasus’s grin as she did so and preparing herself for the teasing that would doubtlessly come later.

Seria beckoned for the two ponies to follow, and led the way forward.  The front of the vehicle, where the driver evidently sat, was covered in transparent windows, affording a breathtaking view of the black void outside, speckled with tens of thousands of pinpoints of light.  The stars were clearer than Twilight had ever seen them, and her breath caught in her throat from the sheer beauty of it.

The human who operated the vehicle sat in a chair at the very front, with a commanding view out the numerous windows.  Twilight wondered for a moment why she’d never seen this individual before; he or she must have stayed aboard the vehicle the entire time.

Twilight’s speculation was swept away when Seria pointed to one of the points of light, a little brighter than the rest, and told her, “There she is.  The Lux Foedis, flagship of the Anderocus Fleet.”  

It didn’t look all that impressive at first; just a tiny dot in the distance, only slightly larger than the comet Twilight had been observing when this whole affair started, seemingly a lifetime ago.  It didn’t stay that way for long, however, growing in size and proximity with a shocking suddenness that told Twilight just how fast the Aquila was moving, and the unicorn could start to see details.  It was certainly complex, she thought, covered in buttresses and arches, the only simple-looking part the solid, beaklike prow.  And it was certainly big.

She had to reassess that thought almost immediately.  Their rate of approach slowed, and she was able to study the ship more closely.  Every passing moment brought a new layer of detail into view, and Twilight realized that ‘big’ was a wholly inadequate descriptor for the ship in front of her.  She’d been mentally using the scale of Equestrian seagoing vessels initially, filing this ship with the others she’d seen, thinking that maybe this one would be, say, twice as big as the biggest she’d seen.  Which was an impressive feat, mind, but the reality of the Lux Foedis was far, far more.  Before long, the ship filled the front window entirely, a seemingly endless expanse of metal walls, spires, and sculptures.  This wasn’t a ship; it was a city, a mobile city filled with aliens.

“Wow.”  Rainbow commented.  “It’s a lot bigger than I thought it was gonna be.”

Twilight nodded, and echoed, “A lot bigger.”

The unicorn could hear the smile in Seria’s voice.  “She’s not the biggest ship out there, but she’s not small.  I’ve been proud to be aboard her; she’s a work of art.  And a tough old bitch.”

A question occurred to Twilight as the sheer, mind-numbing scale of the construction before her registered.  “Seria… if Tersiaard has Gray Nimbus in there, how are we going to find her?”

“Well… there’s only a few places she could be.”  Seria answered.  “And it’s not going to be just us; Lord Anderocus has ordered the household guard to fully mobilize, so you’ll have every one of my troopers helping you.”

“How many guards do you have?” Rainbow asked.

“About three thousand.”  Seria replied,   “Used to be about thirty-five hundred; we got hammered hard in the storm that stranded us here.”

Twilight kept herself from exclaiming in shock with some difficulty.  Three thousand was something like ten times the size of the Princess’s Royal Guard.  She reflected that she should be getting used to the enormous scale the humans seemed to think in, but the numbers they casually threw out continued to shock her.

“That’s a lot of guards,”  Rainbow commented.  “How many people do you have aboard that ship, anyway?”

Seria rubbed her chin.  “Well, the full complement for the Lux is about seventy-five thousand.  We’re running really short, though, because a lot of crew died in the storm; I think there are about fifty-someodd thousand left.  Plus the Mechanicus contingent, of course; they didn’t get hit as hard, and there should be about two thousand Mechanicus acolytes of various ranks.”

Twilight shook her head again, and shivered.  It really was a city.  That twenty thousand of them had died the day they arrived… she felt a deep sadness on behalf of the humans.  It was worse, in a way, that Seria seemed completely unbothered by the loss.  These creatures seemed… accustomed to death in a way Twilight never wanted to be.  It was even in their religion, the unicorn realized, the dying god chained to his throne, sustained by the blood of his followers… it was no wonder their artwork featured skulls everywhere.  Her heart ached for them, all of them, all their teeming billions… and for their master.  She wondered if he could see what had happened to his people.  She hoped not.  Twilight had a sudden vision of her mentor, Celestia, in a similar circumstance, trapped on her throne for millennia as her people suffered and died all around her.  Twilight closed her eyes for a moment, overcome by the image.

The Aquila shuddered slightly, shaking Twilight out of her morbid fantasy.  The pilot called over his shoulder, “Nearly there, ma’am.  We’ll be docking in about three minutes.”

Seria thanked him, ushering the two ponies back to the passenger compartment. The ten guards in the back were already standing, readying their weapons, pulling larger, heavier ones out of racks set into the walls.

Troubled by these preparations, Twilight turned to Anderocus.  “Lord Anderocus, are you expecting a fight?”

The human leader nodded.  “It’s a definite possibility.  Magos Tersiaard has never flat-out defied my commands this way before.  That he has chosen to do so now suggests to me that he may intend to remove me in a permanent fashion, so we must be prepared.”

Twilight shared a worried look with Rainbow.  They’d seen how dangerous ten of the human guards could be; the thought of being caught in the middle of a conflict involving thousands of them was frightening.

Well, there was no point in complaining.  They’d insisted on coming along, so they would have to try and stay out of the worst of it, if they could.

The Aquila slid smoothly into a metal cavern, coming to a stop with a barely perceptible bump.  The ramp hissed open, and the two ponies followed Anderocus out of the vehicle.  A large, heavyset male human with a face that was an almost alarming shade of pink was waiting, along with two full squads of armored guards.  The chamber they emerged into was enormous, holding two more of the big Aquilas with plenty of room to spare, and Twilight’s mind reeled as she adjusted her perception of scale yet again.  If she hadn’t seen the vast shape that was the Lux Foedis from the outside, she would have had serious trouble accepting that they were inside a vehicle.  The metal-walled space was large enough that Rainbow Dash would likely be able to do a full acrobatic routine without hitting anything!

“Pleasure to see you again, sir!  Pity about the circumstances.”  The red-faced human declared, as Anderocus stepped off of the ramp.  He cocked an eyebrow, catching sight of the two brightly-colored ponies trailing behind his leader.  “Guests, sir?  Should I have the stewards ready the guest quarters?”

Anderocus glanced askance at Rainbow Dash, probably remembering that she could understand at least part of what he said.  He clearly still didn’t realize that Twilight could understand Gothic at least as well as he could.  “Not guests, as such, Eudaros.  The Magos appears to have kidnapped one of the locals against my orders, and the local leader and one of her retainers wishes to see their subject returned.”

The heavyset human’s eyes widened, and his face grew even redder.  Twilight was seriously concerned; was he about to have a stroke?  “Blood of the Emperor, sir!  Are you serious?  No wonder the guards have been scurrying around like a nest of angry formics!”

“Indeed.”  Anderocus replied with a solemn nod.  “Do you have any idea where the Magos is now?”

“One of my deckhands overheard him saying he was going to the vivisectorum, sir.”  Eudaros replied, worriedly, and Twilight felt an icy chill in her belly as the name of the place registered.

“Uh, what’s a ‘vivisectorum?’”  Rainbow Dash interrupted, in her halting Gothic.

Anderocus looked grim.  “It means we need to get your subordinate away from the Magos as quickly as possible,”  he replied, “Or there may not be much to retrieve.”  The expression on his face confirmed Twilight’s worst fears.

Rainbow looked sick.  “Well, what are we waiting for, then?!”

By way of answer, Anderocus turned to Commander Seria.  “Well, Commander, are your troopers prepared in case we have to move against the Magos?”

Her helmeted head nodded once.  “Yes, sir.  The whole regiment is mobilized and ready; I’ve got them stationed around the Mechanicus area of the ship, and they’re ready to move the instant I give the word.  These three squads, plus two more who will join us at the door, will escort us if you plan to go yourself.”

The grim expression on Anderocus’s face hardened further.  “Very well, Commander.  I do so intend, so let’s be about it.”  He turned around to speak to the group behind him.  “All right.  Astropath Setaron, get back to the Astropathica chambers.  There’s no need for you to be in the middle of this, one way or another.”  The quiet human in the brown robe nodded silently, turning to shuffle away.  “Confessor Deumos, you would be welcome to join us.”

“A tempting offer,”  Demos replied, “But I think I will join one of your secondary forces, Commander.  If you want to get to Tersiaard, you’ll need a distraction.  And I can be very distracting when I set my mind to it!  I will inspire your men to valor, and draw Mechanicus attention away from you.”

Anderocus nodded.  He turned his gaze upon Twilight and Rainbow.  “Ladies.  I recall your earlier statements, but I must warn you; this could potentially be extremely dangerous.  Are you certain you wish to come along?”

Twilight’s response was firm.  “I meant what I said, Lord-Captain.  I mean to see Gray Nimbus returned safely to her home.”

Rainbow was similarly adamant.  “Same here!  I’m responsible for Nimbus, and I’m not gonna leave her hanging when she needs help!”

Anderocus took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  “Very well.  If fighting breaks out, I ask that both of you take cover, and listen to what my guards tell you.  They will have instructions to keep you safe.”  He turned back to the heavyset Eudaros.  “Captain, get to the bridge.  I’ll need you to help coordinate things if this goes badly.  Try to contact Tersiaard before we reach the Mechanicus area, maybe he can be convinced to part with his captive.”

“Yessir!  I’ll be looking over your shoulder, sir, count on that!”  The large human left the gigantic cavern at a jog, not even glancing backwards.

Anderocus turned, curtly gesturing for the others to follow, and headed in almost the opposite direction from where Eudaros had gone.  Twilight and Rainbow followed as the Lord-Captain led the way through a seemingly endless series of metal corridors.  Twilight felt like she was descending through a mine, or labyrinth, (Or an ants’ nest, her mind whispered, remembering the comparison Fluttershy had made) and quickly lost her way.  A glance at Rainbow showed that the pegasus was tense, ears laid back and wings clamped tightly to her sides.  Twilight suspected that the close spaces were bothering the athlete; she’d barely have room to spread her wings in here, let alone fly.

Several of the corridors they passed through were badly stained by smoke, and carried an extremely unpleasant, sharp smell that Twilight had only ever encountered before when an electronic device she’d been working on in her basement had caught fire.  There was also an even more unpleasant sickly-sweet smell that the unicorn couldn’t identify.  A group of charred bones lying on the floor finally provided an answer; this was the smell of burnt flesh.  Twilight nearly gagged, realizing that she was breathing in particles of ash that had once been a human.

Anderocus tried to contact Eudaros several times during the walk, but whatever system the humans used to pass messages was evidently nonfunctional.  The Lord-Captain’s grim face grew grimmer when they realized that communications were cut off.

Finally, after walking for what seemed like forever through the twisty labyrinth, they came to a huge, vaulted chamber, easily larger than Celestia’s throne room at the Palace in Canterlot.  Two more squads of human guards were waiting at the entrance, bringing the total number of guards accompanying them to fifty.  The twenty armed and armored humans were nervously watching the end of the chamber, were there was a massive door, emblazoned with a symbol that was half-skull, half-machine, contained in a cog-toothed wheel.  Standing before the door was a red-robed human reminiscent of Tersiaard, but much smaller and with fewer limbs emerging from its back.

Anderocus strode boldly up to the figure, his guards hurrying to keep pace, Seria keeping her position at the Lord-Captain’s left shoulder.  “Open this door, Adept.”  He commanded.

The red-robed figure didn’t move.  “You know I cannot do that, Lord-Captain.”  A distorted voice emerged from under the crimson hood.  “This is sanctified ground, sacred to the Omnissiah.  Only those versed in the secrets of the Machine are allowed within.”

“This is my ship,”  Anderocus growled, “and I will go where I please within it.  Open the door, Adept.”

The figure still didn’t move.  “I will not.”

Twilight could see tension gather in Anderocus’s shoulders.  “If you will not open this door, my guards will open it for you.”

“You would not dare,”  the figure replied.

Anderocus turned to the armored guards that were following him.  “Remove the adept from our path and open these doors.”

One of the guards stepped forward to lay a hand on the adept’s shoulder, and the chamber exploded in violence.  The adept’s metal hand came out of the sleeve of his robe and punched straight through the guard’s armor.  A half-instant later, a pair of metal tentacles tipped in saw-toothed blades that spun like circular saws sliced the hapless guard’s head off.

Alcoves along the edges of the chamber snapped open, releasing horrible things that looked like someone had taken human corpses and grafted metal pieces onto them.  They lumbered out wordlessly, almost a dozen of them, raising cylindrical weapon arms that thundered and spat flame.

The guards responded instantly.  Seria flung Anderocus away from the adept, drawing the blade that she’d used against the behir and engaging the mechanical horror in a flickering battle of blade against metal tentacle, too fast for Twilight to make sense of, sending pieces of the adept’s weapon limbs flying each time she connected.  The other guards raised their weapons, projectiles that moved too fast for Twilight to see sparking off of their armor as they blasted the dead-looking things with cracking beams of light and the thunder and explosions of their heavier weapons.  One of the guards grabbed Twilight, pulling her away from the battle and kneeling to interpose his own armored body between her and the dead things.  She felt several impacts, transmitted through the human’s body, as more of the projectiles struck his armored back.

“Hey!  Get off me!  Let me help!”  Twilight heard Rainbow shout, and breathed a sigh of thanks that another guard was probably keeping the pegasus out of the fight, much as the one shielding her was doing.

The fight was over in moments.  Twilight looked around when the guard released her, seeing the dead things collapsed on the floor, most in several pieces, and the body of the adept lying at Seria’s feet.  Two of the guards were down as well; their armor was evidently not completely proof against the dead things’ weapons.  A quick glance reassured the unicorn that Rainbow was alright, glaring furiously at the guard who had shielded her.

The pegasus forgot her annoyance quickly, however.  “Hey, what are those things?”  She asked, pointing at one of the dead things.

“Servitors,”  Seria replied, nudging the adept’s corpse with her boot.  “Combat servitors, actually.  Mechanical servants, built for battle.  You and you, get that door open.”  She pointed at two of the guards, who hastened to obey.  The adept’s metal body twitched, and Seria drove her blade into it.  It fell still once more.  Seria turned to Anderocus.  “Well, sir, there’s the easy part done.”

The Lord-Captain sighed.  “Damnation.  I was hoping to avoid this.”  He dusted off his robes.  “Well, nothing for it now.”

Twilight bit her lip in anxiety.  “Lord Anderocus, is there any chance we could just talk to the Magos?  Maybe this is all just a huge misunderstanding.”

The dark-maned human shook his head.  “I’m afraid not, Lady Twilight.  The communications net is down, and the only reason I can think of for that to happen is if Tersiaard doesn’t want to talk to us.”  He sighed.  “I’ve been worrying about a confrontation like this for some time now.  If you and Miss Rainbow Dash would like to wait at the shuttle, I give you my solemn oath that we will retrieve your compatriot.”

Twilight was shaking her head before the human had even finished.  “No, Lord Anderocus, as I said before, I intend to see Gray Nimbus home safely.  We will come with you.”

He sighed again.  “Very well.”

The huge doors finally slid open, completely soundlessly, surprising the unicorn.  She’d expected the massive portal to groan theatrically, but there was no noise at all.  The guards moved in, Anderocus hanging back from the front this time.

Seria fell in at his shoulder again.  Twilight heard her say quietly, “Sir, the other squads are moving in.  First and Second Companies are making as much noise as they can, so hopefully most of the Mechanicus forces will be drawn away.”

The gallery was eerily silent as the group made its way through.  Occasional noises would echo against the high-vaulted ceiling, but for the most part even their footfalls were lost to the oppressive silence.

Seria’s voice spoke up again.  “We’ve got a choice coming up, sir.”  The guard commander was holding an odd, glass-fronted slate in one hand and clearly studying it intently.  “There’s a shorter, open route through the main gallery to the vivisectorum, or a longer one through the generatorium.  Do you have any preferences?”

“We’ll see when we get to the proper intersection.”  Anderocus answered.  “It troubles me that we have met so little resistance thus far.”

“Me too, sir.”  Seria sounded worried.

Twilight had thought that the chamber they were in was the ‘main gallery,’ but it turned out to be only a hallway.  The gallery itself was larger by far, so vast that Twilight could see streamers of mist forming at the ceiling vaults.  Huge towers and buttresses were spaced along the vast open area.

“Woah.”  Rainbow Dash said quietly, “No wonder he was so interested in weather-work.  This place is big enough to need its own crew, almost.”

“The side passage to the generatorium is over there,”  Seria said, pointing to a doorway.

“All right, commander.”  Anderocus acknowledged the information.  “Let’s head that way, but at the moment I’m inclined to go the shorter route.  How are the other detachments faring?”

“Not well,”  Seria answered grimly.  “They’re getting hit hard by Tersiaard’s battle-priests and heavy combat servitors.  Thank the Emperor that they are, though.”

“Indeed.”  Anderocus looked around at the vast, empty hall.

The group made their way quietly down the enormous space to the doorway Seria had indicated.  Abruptly, one of the guards out in front stopped, holding up a hand.  “D’you hear that?”  He hissed.

Twilight strained her ears.  Right at the very edge of her hearing, she managed to pick up rhythmic, metallic sounds from ahead.

“Damnation,”  Seria spat, quietly.  “Choice time, sir.”

Anderocus glanced indecisively back and forth between the hallway and the side passage.  “All right, if the generatorium route looks clear, we’ll go that way.  If it’s not, then we go the shorter way.”

Seria nodded.  She sent one squad ahead to check the side passage, while the rest of the party crept along behind.
The explosion of violence took them all by surprise.  A stream of glowing, smoke-trailing projectiles streaked across the gallery, accompanied by the deep, heavy thunder of one of the humans heavy weapons.  The stream intersected one of the guards, and his body blew apart violently in a sickening explosion of blood and viscera, his armor doing nothing to stop the projectiles.

Massive, heavy forms lumbered out of alcoves spaced along the vast gallery, and Twilight got her first look at what had to be the ‘heavy battle servitors.’  The things loomed huge, nearly as large as Tersiaard, their sickly grey flesh bulging enormously around the intrusive mechanical implants they were laced with.  Most had enormous, boxy weapons replacing one arm, and a whirring, multi-toothed blade in place of the other.  Weapons fire thundered, more of the glowing projectiles zipping across the intervening distance to explode against the walls or tear into the flesh of the guards.

Seria, Anderocus, and the guards scattered, diving into what cover they could find that would shield them from the servitors’ weapons.  Again, Twilight found herself grabbed and hauled to safety, and she could hear vociferous protests indicating that Rainbow Dash was receiving the same treatment.

Up ahead, the squad Seria had sent to check the alternate route ducked into the doorway, only to come reeling back out again as more weapons fire erupted from the hall.  Three of them died immediately, blown apart in the same horrifying fashion as the guards who’d been killed in the opening exchange, and the others scattered, finding what cover they could.

Once behind cover, the surviving guards began to return fire.  They massed their return fire, several guards blazing away at individual servitors.  The servitors were robust, though, enduring the cracking light beams with minor damage as they lumbered closer.  Other guards began to set up their heavier weapons, each carried by several guards to distribute the weight.

Twilight could hear Rainbow struggling with the guard who was seeking to keep her safe.  The unicorn risked a glance in that direction to see what was going on.  Rainbow nearly threw the guard aside the second she managed to get even a little leverage; the pegasus’s slender frame was deceptive, and she was enormously strong.  The guard managed to keep hold of her, though, lifting her up off the ground in a wrestler’s hold while still keeping her behind the cover of the alcove he’d taken shelter in.  The pegasus struggled, legs and wings flailing, clearly wanting to help, but the guard had her clamped against his chest in a position where she couldn’t use her strength, and her light weight wasn’t enough to throw him off-balance.  Rainbow was cursing with amazing fluency, (what had Seria been saying around her?) and Twilight’s cheeks burned a bit, hearing it.

Satisfied that the guard had her friend out of danger, (however much the pegasus didn’t want to be there) Twilight turned her attention to the fight.  The servitors were lumbering closer, and more were emerging from the path they’d intended to take.

A moment of thought revealed that, while Rainbow’s attempts to help would almost certainly lead to her death, Twilight might just be able to lend a hoof.  Or a horn, in this case.  Her horn glowed as she gathered her magic and lifted the nearest servitor off the ground.  A quick telekinetic flick sent the huge thing tumbling into two more, knocking the whole bunch down with an incredible racket.

The guards’ heavy weapons strafed the fallen servitors, damaging them severely and quickly disabling them.  Twilight heard Seria shout, “Whatever you just did, do more of it!”

The unicorn complied, lifting several more servitors and sending them careening into their compatriots.  The incoming fire ceased as the fallen servitors sought to untangle themselves, and the guards were able to pick them apart quickly.

The instant the last servitor was disabled, the guards began taking their heavy weapons apart, in preparation for moving on.  The one who’d been covering Twilight with his own body pushed himself up, allowing the unicorn to move.  She shot the human a grateful smile.  “Thanks for keeping me safe.”

“Of course, ma’am.”  The guard saluted.  “My duty and my pleasure.”

The other guard was still holding Rainbow Dash in a death-grip, evidently unaware that the fighting had temporarily ceased.  Probably, Twilight reflected, because the pegasus kept slamming her wings into his helmet.  His ears were probably ringing pretty loudly.  The poor human had his head tucked down, the top of his helmet pushing against the back of Rainbow’s head so she couldn’t slam the back of her skull into his face, and his arms wrapped tightly around her ribs just below her lower shoulders, keeping her back hooves hoisted far enough off the ground that she couldn’t get purchase to throw him off.  It was a pretty good hold, Twilight had to admit.

Seria walked over to where the guard was struggling with the pegasus.  “Guardsman Dercius!”  He didn’t seem to hear, so she yelled louder, “Guardsman Dercius!”

“Yes, Commander!”  The voice was muffled.

“The fighting is over for now, guardsman.  Release her!”  Dercius complied, letting Rainbow drop to the deck, where she spun around, furious, wings flared aggressively.

“I oughta kick your butt for that!”  She growled, glaring at the hapless guard.

Dercius snapped to attention, and suddenly the smoking cylindrical end of Seria’s boxy weapon (she’d evidently had to replace the blue-glowing one she’d lost to the behir) was pointing directly at the side of his head.

“Do you feel this soldier has disrespected you, Miss Rainbow Dash?”  Seria asked, her tone quiet.

Rainbow’s narrowed eyes got huge.  “Wait, what?  W-what are you doing, Seria?”

The commander’s voice stayed low.  “Do you feel that he has disrespected you?  You are a personal guest of the Lord-Captain; if this soldier has treated you poorly, I will execute him and appoint a replacement.”  Dercius stayed silent and stock-still.

Rainbow’s jaw dropped, and she shook her head spastically.  “No, no!  Don’t hurt him!  I was just mad ‘cause he was keeping me from helping, but I know it was just ‘cause he was trying to keep me from getting hurt!  Please, please don’t hurt him for that!”

Seria’s weapon dropped to her side, and Dercius sagged slightly in relief.  “Very well, and thank you,”  the commander said, “Dercius is one of my most dedicated troopers; I would have hated to have to execute him.”  She nodded cordially, and walked back over to Anderocus to discuss their options.

Twilight stepped up next to Rainbow, who was shivering in reaction, her ears flat.  “You okay, Rainbow?”

The pegasus nodded, swallowing.  She looked up at the guard who she’d nearly condemned.  “Dude, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to nearly get you hurt like that.”

The big human shrugged.  “Think nothing of it.  I’m just glad I was able to hold on to you; if you’d gone out there, those heavy bolters would’ve torn you apart.”  The voice that came from the helmet was an incongruous light tenor, strange to hear coming from such a large figure.

Rainbow gave him a strange look.  “Wait… you’re more worried that I might have gotten hurt than you are about yourself nearly getting killed?”

Dercius shrugged again.  “Better to be executed for succeeding in my duty than for failing at it.  Though I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t fight me so much next time.”

The pegasus grinned wanly.  “Heh.  I did nearly get loose, didn’t I?”

“That you did,”  the guard replied, “I didn’t realize how bloody strong you were.  Don’t worry, I won’t make the same mistake again.”

“Pff.  We’ll see.”  Rainbow said, a challenging light in her eye.

“That we will,”  Dercius answered calmly, not rising to the bait.

“Rainbow…”  Twilight said, alarmed by her friend’s attitude.  “He’s telling the truth.  If you’d gone out there, you would almost certainly have been badly hurt or killed.  Please, let him do his job if there’s another fight.”

Before the pegasus could respond, Seria called for the group to move out.  They’d evidently settled on the shorter route, as they began moving briskly down the huge passage.  Twilight didn’t want to drop her conversation with Rainbow, though, so she persisted as they walked.  “Please, Rainbow, promise me that if there’s another fight like that, you’ll let Dercius keep you safe.”

The athlete heaved a sigh.  “Fine.  If there’s another fight like that, I’ll try and stay out of it.  I do kinda want another shot at beating this guy, though.”

Twilight chuckled.  That was Rainbow Dash all over.  “I’ll talk to Anderocus and see if he’ll let him come back to Equestria for a wrestling match, then.”

Rainbow grinned, her ears finally coming forward again.  “Deal.  Ooh!  Another thing that I just realized!  They’re all about duty!”

Twilight didn’t follow the train of thought.  “They’re what now?”

“Duty!  Everything’s about duty with these guys!”  The pegasus exclaimed.  “They stick to their duty even when it’s a bad idea!  Seria was gonna kill Dercius even though she didn’t want to, Dercius was holding on to me even though I was fighting him, and that adept guy didn’t move out of the way at the door even though we outnumbered him!  They were all doing their duty!”  Rainbow grinned, pleased that she’d figured out something new about her alien acquaintances.

Twilight’s reaction was considerably more somber.  She felt a chill in her belly.  “Doing their duty, even when it means death.”  She mused.  What happened when two humans’ duty came into conflict?  She glanced at the guard who’d twice now put his own body between her and harm.  It was admirable… and terrifying.

The diminished group pushed on, moving rapidly in the hopes that they could reach Tersiaard before more Mechanicus forces appeared.  Seria was checking the slate she held constantly, and finally called out for them to turn, taking a doorway that looked exactly like a hundred others they’d already passed.

“All right, troopers,”  Seria called, “We’re coming up on the anteroom to the vivisectorum.  Keep an eye out, there’s likely to be HOLY THRONE!”  Seria ducked to the side just in time, and a bolt of blue light sizzled through the space her head had occupied an instant before, burning a four-hoof-wide hole in the wall.

The room they had come to was large, though nothing in comparison with the massive gallery they’d just left, and it was occupied.  Seven figures exploded into violence as the guards poured into the room, already firing, and these were a different thing entirely from the servitors they’d faced before.  All were clad in the same red cloak that Tersiaard and the adept at the entrance had worn, and all sported multiple limbs.  They were fast, too, even faster than the adept had been, and in the close confines of the room and corridor they were unbelievably lethal.  One dashed into the middle of a squad of guards, cutting them apart with sparking, blue-wreathed blades attached to its tentacles, while another attacked Seria, the commander desperately fending off strikes from five metal limbs.

Unafraid, the guards attacked with remarkable fury, pouring shots at the darting figures, though they weren’t scoring many hits.  Twilight again felt herself grabbed and pulled out of danger, and again she realized she could help even as the guard whose name she hadn’t learned shielded her with his armored body.  She focused, knowing that grabbing just one wouldn’t help in this situation, and knowing that the robed figures’ darting speed was the danger.  Instead of grabbing and hoisting them, she draped the creatures with cords of force, dragging at their limbs like a net and slowing them drastically.

With the extra fractions of a second Twilight had granted them, the guards blew apart the metal creatures in seconds, able to carefully aim and direct stuttering bursts of light into the attackers.  Seria, likewise, swiftly dismembered her suddenly-slowed opponent, her blade crackling as it sliced through its metal limbs before she drove the point through the creature’s chest.  The commander glanced around and saw that all of the darting figures were down and leaking sparks and oil across the painfully-clean floor.  She beckoned for some of her troopers, and they set to work trying to open the huge door at the end of the chamber.

Twilight and Rainbow entered the room behind the guards, the unicorn examining the metal creatures curiously and trying not to look at the slaughtered guards who had been their victims.  When she got closer, she realized they were leaking not only oil, but blood as well.  She gasped.

“L-lord Anderocus,”  Twilight stammered, pointing at the metal bodies with a hoof, “These… these things are bleeding!”

“Well, of course they are,”  Anderocus sounded perplexed.  “Tech-priests aren’t all metal, not even senior ones like these.”

“Who were they?”  Twilight’s voice was a horrified whisper.  She’d thought these things had just been more of the humans’ machines!

“These?”  Anderocus knelt next to the nearest, pulling its hood back.  “These were some of Tersiaard’s senior subordinates.  It’s a good sign; if they were here, then he must be in there with your servant.”

Twilight pressed a hoof to her mouth in horror.  These had been people, and she’d helped kill them!  They weren’t machines, like the servitors, or monsters like the daemon that had worn Hammer N’ Tongs’s flesh, they were people, with stories and names and dreams!  Twilight closed her eyes, feeling sick to her stomach.  Rainbow’s earlier statement came back to haunt her.  They were only doing their duty.

She felt Rainbow come up next to her.  “Are you okay, Twi?”  The unicorn shook her head.  She felt the pegasus lay a hoof on her shoulder.  “What’s wrong?”

“I helped kill them,”  Twilight whispered.

Rainbow was silent for a moment.  The pegasus sat down next to Twilight, leaning comfortingly up against her.  “Twilight, believe me, I know exactly how you feel.  I felt the same way, right after we killed Hammer, so I’m gonna tell you what you told me.  You didn’t have another choice.”  Rainbow paused. “Look, Twilight, we still need you.  I still need you.  Can you hold it together, just for a while, just ‘till we’re outta here?”

Twilight took a deep breath.  Then she took another, eyes still squeezed shut.  She wrestled with her own emotions, trying to get a grip on herself.  She had no idea how long it took, but she finally opened her eyes, meeting Rainbow’s worried gaze.  “Thank you, Rainbow.”  Twilight was pleased with how steady her voice was.

“You okay?”  Rainbow prompted, and Twilight gave a careful nod.

“For now.”  Twilight didn’t say anything further, and Rainbow didn’t ask.

It took several tense minutes before the door began grinding open.  When it finally did, Rainbow and Twilight set themselves, as did the surviving guards, pointing weapons toward the opening portal.  Seria stood right next to it, blade in hand, ready to spring through.  When the door reached its stops, the commander charged through, followed closely by a dozen guards, with Rainbow and Twilight right on their heels.

Tersiaard spun around in surprise where he was standing next to a bank of blinking lights, but Twilight barely noticed.  Her eyes were drawn to the table in the center of the room, a huge, gleaming metal thing, with various armatures and wires festooning its surface.  Gray Nimbus lay limp in the center of it, her right wing outstretched.  It had actually been peeled open, and Twilight gagged at the sight of glistening muscle and tissue revealed beneath the pegasus’s skin.  Nimbus’s silver-grey eyes were wide open, and they locked on Twilight’s own the instant she entered the older mare’s sight line.  Tear tracks ran down her face, and Twilight could see the desperate fear in her eyes.

It was then that Twilight noticed the wires.  Dozens and dozens of fine wires had been attached to Nimbus.  Some hooked into the exposed muscle and tendons of her wing, others seemed to go into her spine, and a cluster were attached to her head.  Tiny trails of blood ran from the puncture wounds in the older mare’s scalp, and the unicorn realized that the wires might actually be attached to her skull… or even her brain.

She wasn’t given time to ponder the horror.  Seria charged straight for the Magos with a shout, and her guards shouldered their weapons, unleashing a blinding barrage at the metal giant, but Tersiaard wasn’t like the other tech-priests.

The blazing lines of light achieved precisely nothing, vanishing against a shimmering energy field that appeared to block them.  Seria’s thrust got scarcely any further; a crab-clawed arm sheathed in the same crackling disruption field as her blade darting forward with impossible speed and precision, grabbing the blade and ripping it out of the commander’s hand in a single motion.  Tersiaard’s arm swung out in the same moment, connecting with the charging Seria and sending the big, armored female flying in a single contemptuous blow.  Tersiaard turned, leveling the huge boxy thing on his shoulder that Twilight now recognized as the same ‘heavy bolter’ that the battle servitors had carried, and metal tentacles rose up behind him like angry snakes.

“STOP!”  Anderocus’s shout rang out, stunningly loud and laced with authority.  The guards froze, Twilight and Rainbow froze just before lunging at the huge Magos, even Tersiaard froze, weapon trained on the group of guards.

Anderocus strode into the center of the room, arms raised in a halting motion.  Twilight was impressed by the human’s bravery; he was totally unarmed and unarmored, and he walked between his guards and the Magos as though he belonged there.  “Stop.  Everyone.  Lower your weapons, now!”  The guards obeyed, and Tersiaard’s metal tentacles withdrew behind him as his shoulder-carried weapon deflected its aim away.  Anderocus turned, pointing an accusing finger at the Magos.  “Magos Tersiaard.  What is the meaning of this?”

“The meaning of what, Lord-Captain?”  Tersiaard’s cold voice was even colder than usual.

Anderocus’s pointing finger swung around, pointing now at the limp, mutilated pegasus on the table.  “The meaning of that, Magos.  I specifically told you not to bother the locals.  Why is one of them on that table?!”  There was honest fury in the human leader’s voice.

“I did not disobey your orders, Lord-Captain.”  There was an edge of honest confusion in the Magos’s voice.  “Seneschal Tangro clarified them before he left; if I could obtain an experimental specimen without alarming the other xenos, I was to do so.”

“What?”  Anderocus shouted, “I never gave those orders!”

Tersiaard’s head cocked to the side.  “That was the command I received, Lord-Captain.  If there was an error, it was not mine.”

“I see I’m going to have to have a chat with Seneschal Tangro.”  Anderocus growled.  “Is your… subject damaged beyond repair?”

“No, not at all,”  Tersiaard stepped over toward Nimbus, whose eyes locked on him in terror.  “I can have it repaired in moments, if you so desire.  I have but to rebond the epidermal tissue.”

“Her.”  Twilight snarled, no longer caring if the humans knew she could understand them.  “You can have her repaired.  She’s not an ‘it.’  And can you fix the pain you’ve caused?”  She glared at the Magos, enraged.

“What pain?”  The Magos switched smoothly to Equestrian.  Two of Tersiaard’s tentacles were already working, delicately removing the wires in Nimbus’s wing and carefully pulling her skin and feathers back into place.  “Pain would have disrupted my neural scan data.  I was quite careful to ensure the subject felt none.  The only pain the subject felt was the sting of the dart that delivered the paralytic agent.”

“But you peeled open her wing!”  Rainbow interjected, sounding sick, “I can’t even imagine how much that would hurt!  Our wings are really sensitive!”

Light flared as the Magos ran his strange instruments over Nimbus’s wing.  His tentacles shifted to begin removing the other wires.  “Pain has a very distinctive neural signature.  I was able to isolate it easily, based on readings from the dart impact, and block it before it reached the subject’s spine.  I assure you, there was no pain at all; I made use of the same procedure the last few times I performed augmentic surgery on myself, and I can attest from experience that it is perfectly effective.”

Anderocus looked stunned at Terisaard’s lack of resistance.  He’d clearly been expecting a tremendous battle.  Twilight felt the same way; it was as though she’d tried to climb a stair that wasn’t there.  The Magos gently lifted Nimbus from the table and laid her in front of Rainbow, who moved to stand protectively over the other pegasus.

“The paralytic agent will wear off in six point two minutes, at which time the subject will be fully recovered.”  Tersiaard told them.  “My apologies for any inconvenience.”

Anderocus looked like he was desperately trying to get a grip on the situation.  “Magos, if you weren’t deliberately disobeying me, why did you shut down the vox network?”

“I did nothing to the vox net.  It is…”  Tersiaard’s voice cut off midword.  “Something is wrong with the vox net.”  The cold voice held anger when it resumed.  “Who has tampered with my machine spirits?!  A moment, Lord-Captain, and I shall restore it.”

Rainbow and Twilight shared a confused look, and the guards shifted uneasily.  Two of them slung their weapons, going over to check on their fallen commander.  Rainbow bent to whisper in Nimbus’s ear, “Hey, Nimbus, don’t worry.  We gotcha.  We’re gonna get you home.”  The paralyzed pegasus managed to convey deep gratitude with nothing but her eyes.

Everyone froze when the deck shuddered slightly.  Anderocus’s head whipped around to look at Tersiaard.  “Magos, what was that?”

“That was the attitude thrusters firing,”  the metal giant responded.  “I have restored the vox net, if you wish to determine the cause.”

“Thank you, Magos.”  Anderocus tapped something in his ear.  “Eudaros, why did the attitude thrusters just fire?”

The heavyset human’s voice crackled from speakers set into the walls.  “What, you don’t know, sir?  Per your orders, we’re rolling to present the port broadside to the planet.”

“My orders?  Delivered how?”  Anderocus growled.

“Why, by Aleron, of course, sir!  Since the vox was down, you had him deliver your orders… didn’t you?”

“Tangro again!”  The Lord-Captain snarled.  “When I get my hands on that man…”

“Lord-Captain…”  Tersiaard interjected.  “The spirits of the port macrocannons have been roused.  A target has been given to them, and they are eager to speak their wrath.”

“What?!”  Anderocus’s face went sheet-white.  “Send them back to their slumber, Magos!”

“I cannot.”  Tersiaard’s voice was growing angry.  “Someone has suborned them.  Their gaze is locked on a castle on the surface.  I will stay their wrath as long as I can, and seek to redirect it if possible, but they will speak.”

“Anderocus, what is going on?”  Twilight asked.

“The Lux Foedis is going to bombard your world.”  Anderocus replied, his voice clipped.  “A full broadside will probably obliterate your entire civilization.”

“And that’s where I come in.”  A hissing voice spoke over the vox.  “Hello, Parseon.  Things going well?”

“Who is this?”  Anderocus barked.

“Oh, you don’t recognize me?  I’m hurt.  It’s me, Parseon, your seneschal.”

“Tangro?  What happened to your voice?  Why are you doing this?”  Anderocus sounded shocked and frightened.

“I’m not just Tangro anymore, Parseon.  I’ve got a guest.  As for why?  Because these wretched little pastel things have it coming, that’s why, and you’re my tool.”  The voice gave an oddly birdlike cackle.  “With you, I can finally destroy those vile sisters that have kept us from our fun for so very long.  You will fire, they will die, and then you will die.  And I will lead my siblings into an endless time of fun and play, while the pastel things sing their song of agony to entertain us.”

“Lord-Captain.”  Tersiaard interjected.  “There is worse news.  The plasma reactors’ chains have been sundered.  In minutes, they will break free and consume the ship.  I am trying to restrain them…”

“Never!  You will never stop your deaths!  Now, my children, now!  Strike them!”

An insane cackling echoed from a thousand places in the Lux Foedis, and the ship went mad.  Countless multicolored horrors writhed into existence throughout the ship, giggling madly and spewing prismatic flame that warped all it touched.  Twilight saw them capering toward their group from the long hallway they’d just come down, and something deep inside her recognized an enemy.  But this time, she knew that enemy, and she knew what she had to do.

“Magos!  Lord-Captain!  Get your ship under control, Rainbow and I can handle these!”  Twilight barked, her horn beginning to glow.  “Rainbow, these are daemons!  Let’s show them what we showed their friend!”

“Right!”  Rainbow launched herself off the ground, as Twilight started to build a spherical shell of power around them.  These humans had protected her, now it was time for her to return the favor.  She didn’t need to build the shield especially strong; the abominations burned and discorporated just touching her power.  Outside, Rainbow zipped down the wide corridor that teemed with daemons, bouncing from one to the other in a dazzling display that left a wall of prismatic light in her wake.  A simple touch from her hooves was all that was necessary, and within seconds the daemonic horde was nothing but drifting motes of silver light.  The pegasus zoomed back, landing next to Twilight and contemptuously exclaiming, “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Tangro!  Where are ya?  I’ll show ya personally!”

Tangro’s voice cackled from the speaker, no longer even recognizable as human beneath the birdlike screech.  “No I don’t, no I don’t!  Ask the Magos!  Ha ha ha!”

Tersiaard shook his head.  “The plasma reactors are no longer in my control.  They will destroy the ship, and soon.  There is one thing I can do, however.”  Tangro continued to cackle gleefully from the speakers.  “I can silence that monster.”

“I’d like to see you try!”

“Oh, you will.”  Tersiaard’s voice was iron.  The ship shuddered again.  “You are currently in a shuttle, only a few thousand kilometers from me.  You must have left even as we spoke, having done your vile work.  I may not be able to lull the macrocannons to sleep, heretic, but I can point them in a different direction.”

“Ha ha!  You can’t!  I gave them a target, and they are slaved to it!”

“They are not.  I have served the spirit of the Lux Foedis for six centuries, heretic, and she is mine, as I am hers.”  Tersiaard’s voice rose to a crescendo.  “She heeds my voice, heretic, whenever she is able.  And now, I am pointing to you, and telling her that you are her foe, and she is listening!”

“What?  No!  No, you can’t…!”




The ship shuddered.  Outside, in the silent vacuum of space, vast plumes of flame erupted from the cruiser’s port side.  Shells the size of buildings were hurled from the cannons’ maws, speeding outward.  They did not strike the royal castle at Canterlot, for the Lux Foedis had indeed heeded her acolyte’s voice, and her dying spirit had focused on the tiny shuttle seeking to escape.  She spat her fury into her murderer, one final gesture of spite, the great shells converging on the thin-walled hull that was smaller than the shells themselves.

After they detonated, there was nothing left of the shuttle, or Tangro, but thinly divided atoms.




Tersiaard sagged.  “It is done.  We are avenged.”  

Anderocus nodded in acknowledgement.  “Thank you Magos.”

“But… aren’t you going to do anything?  What about my world?”  Twilight protested.

Tersiaard turned wearily to her.  “Your world is unharmed, and will remain so, save for possibly being struck by fragments when we die.  I directed the Lux Foedis’s fury toward Tangro, where it belonged.  Beyond that, there is nothing to do.”  The huge tech-priest reached out with a metal hand, laying it gently on the wall.  “There are only moments left.  The ship dies, and she does not die alone.”

Twilight felt panic seizing her mind.  Her magic rose, unbidden, as she locked eyes with Rainbow Dash and Gray Nimbus, and with a flash the three of them vanished.

Anderocus looked at the empty space where the three ponies had been, nodded, and uttered a single word.  “Good.”




The wrenching dislocation of the teleport spell was worse than Twilight had ever felt it before, probably because she’d never teleported even a fraction of this distance before.  Sight returned with shocking suddenness, and the unicorn found herself sitting on the floor, back in her home, as Spike leapt away from the three ponies who’d appeared out of nowhere.

“Geez, Twilight, don’t do that!  You nearly gave me a heart attack!”  Spike exclaimed, but none of the three ponies were listening.  Rainbow Dash staggered, her eyes spinning in disorientation, and collapsed at the base of a bookshelf.  Gray Nimbus lay perfectly still, eyes also spinning.

Twilight stumbled for just a moment before sprinting up the stairs to her balcony.  She flung the doors open and ran out, looking at the sky.




Far out in space, the containment of the Lux Foedis’s plasma reactors failed.  Ravenous flame raced explosively through the ship’s corridors, those caught in its path not even having time to scream before their ashes were scattered.  That alone was not enough to destroy the mighty cruiser, far from it.  The raging plasma blast only ate away at her armored bulkheads, chewing at her personnel quarters but leaving her crucial structural members only superficially damaged, for ships of the Imperium were built phenomenally tough.

She could not endure what followed, however.  The searing plasma reached her munitions stores, detonating them in a mighty chain reaction.  The Lux Foedis shuddered, quivering in her final agony as her lesser munitions stores detonated, but even that was only a precursor.

The first of the macrocannon shell bays exploded with a fury to rival the sun, and the blast broke the Lux Foedis’s back.  Her keel and armor screamed as they were torn asunder, a metallic death wail that was heard by no-one.  An instant later, as the two pieces of the once-mighty cruiser were hurled away from one another, the remaining munitions stores and the plasma engines detonated, shattering the broken hull into a billion pieces, and scattering it to the stellar winds.

Thus died the Lux Foedis.




Below, on the planetary surface, Twilight frantically searched the sky.  Will I see anything?  Maybe the Magos will fix it!  Maybe it’ll all be okay, he’ll figure something out at the last second, and… 

The soundless flash lit the entire sky, bleaching the blue to white for an instant, the heat palpable even from this distance.  Twilight Sparkle collapsed to the floor, wracking sobs tearing at her body, as above her a billion fiery trails drew themselves across the sky.


Elsewhere…

Anger.  “No.  No.  This will not do, not at all.”
Resignation.  “Nonetheless, it is what will happen, Sister.”
Anger.  “It is what might happen.  It is only a possibility.”
Mild correction.  “It is the most likely possibility.”
Refusal.  “It is the most likely, only if things remain unchanged.”
Suspicion.  “And what might change, sister?”
Certainty.  “A small thing.  A tiny thing.  I can see a place where a nudge would make all the difference.  All that must be done is to apply it.”
Caution.  “That is a tool of the Enemy, Sister.”
Denial.  “Not only the Enemy.  The Farseers do it, as well.”
Chiding.  “Yes.  And they almost invariably make things worse by doing so.  Think on that, Sister.”
Clarity.  “They make things worse, because they seek to improve only their own lot.  That is not what I seek, Sister.  I seek to improve the outcome for everyone, save the Enemy, of course.”
Ambivalence.  “The noblest intentions often herald the most heinous of outcomes.  Be cautious, Sister.”
Iron certainty.  “I will be cautious, but I must do this.”
Ambivalence.  “I will not oppose You, Sister, but I will not aid You, either.  I fear You are treading the same path He did.”
Regret.  “Perhaps.  But I still maintain that it may be the right path.  I will do this, with Your help, or without.”
Resignation.  “So be it, Sister.  So be it.”