“Get off! Git off!” Scootaloo roared as she pushed the goblins, Doks and Mekboys off of her. “Get'cha filfy hands off me!” she yelled, before she brought her power klaw to her head.
She had been lucky, all things considered. The shot had been basically superficial, even though it did destroy a good chunk of her face. The same could not be said for the ork behind her, who had taken the same shot through the brain, leaving only a smoking hole and a dead ork.
Her power klaw clinked against the metal of her bionik eye, and she growled at the giant, red glass lense that replaced her now ruined left eye.
“Somefin’ wrong, Shootaloota?” a deep voice laughed.
“Stuff it, Grimtrasha,” she snarled.
“Dat’s Boss Grimtrasha ta you,” the new warboss grunted. Now the largest ork in the horde, the Cybork with the massive bionik leg and arm, was certainly not one you’d want to meet in a dark alley. Towering over everything but a killa kan, the only thing that was incredibly odd was that he was rather lean for an ork, but he won, so he was the Boss.
“Yeah, yeah,” she growled, “So we ready?”
Grimtrasha grinned. “The Waaagh!s on da move.”
Scootaloo grumbled. “Good. One of those gits owe me an eye.”
---=][=---
Thunder rolled across the hills of Ursidhe-Ka. There was not a cloud in the sky, yet still the air around the crater shook. Orbital bombing from the Omnis Arcanum had commenced the night before, beating whatever lived in the crater after the fire into a literal pulp.
Every vox transmission they received from the battle barge flying above gave reports that several large collections of lifeforms were converging on the crater, and Gabriel was quick to order a bombardment to clean the area.
Apple Bloom eagerly waited for it to end, her mechadendrites holding her bolter at the ready. She stood with her squad, and among them, she was the most eager to bring justice of the Emperor to her foes.
As daybreak appeared over the horizon, the bombing slowly ended, and Apple Bloom smiled beneath her helmet.
Finally, Aldwil would be avenged.
Dreadnaughts, the massive machines that held the horribly damaged remains of the heros of the chapter, stood, waiting in the wings. The first company, with a select few dressed in mighty Terminator armor holding powerful storm bolters, were as eager as any other soldier.
And she was the most eager of all.
“Battle Brothers!” Gabriel Angelos cried as he stood atop a Land Raider. “The time has come to do our duty, and we shall not be found wanting! The time has come to bring the Emperor’s light to this dark world.”
“We will not be found wanting!” Came the battle cry from the enhanced throats of the Space Marines.
“Now, my brothers! Charge! For the Emperor!”
Apple Bloom racked the slide, chambering a bolt, and charged, roaring as she ran.
---=][=---
The Eldar began to move. The mon-keigh had bombarded the crater to the east of the Eldar camp. And Sweetie Belle snickered at the thought that the barbaric humans had missed her forces that badly.
Now, however, her mood soured. Surrounded by four massive wraithbone construct, and a single Eldar warlock named Kaelyth.
Kaelyth was not a nice Eldar, which, at times, felt like saying he was par for the course. He practically lived with his head at a forty-five degree angle and his ego was probably as big of the planet itself.
Again par for the course.
Of course, the issue was more that. Upon meeting him, Kaelyth pet her like a dog and then he did not actually talk to her in any way that remotely suggested she had intelligence.
That annoyed her.
Also being surrounded by possessed wraithbone machines that could barely see her didn’t make it any better. The worst part about the whole ordeal was that in order to be as safe from the giant stomping feet as possible, she needed to be as close as possible to the warlock, which was just such a wonderful experience.
She really wished Oraban was here.
As the giants began to lumber forward, holding massive power swords and their reality-ripping wraithcannons forward as they began to head for war.
---=][=---
Vulek the Debaucher stood on the northern lip of the crater.
The Emperor’s Children had spent much of the night summoning the daemons of Slaanesh, sacrificing a few of their own and the Alpha Legion volunteers to boost their numbers.
Now, backed by three daemon cannons called Soulgrinders, daemonettes, the fifteen-foot-tall, six-breasted Keeper of Secretes, and scores of Chaos Spawn, the mutated failures that thought they could use Chaos for their own benefit, Vulek was eager to enjoy the battle. With the Chaos Spawn leading them as the front line fodder, followed by their own ranks and the daemons, there was no end of the misery that would flood through the planet this day, and the promised sensations were enough to visibly arouse the daemonettes.
It was time for war.
Their enemies were gathered, the orks to the south, the eldar to the west, and the corpse-worshipers to the east.
He smirked as he saw them all, all fools that would fall to him. Slaanesh would be most pleased with this offering. The various forms of pleasureable torture the survivors would be forced into would strengthen the Prince of Perfection so, and the souls of the eldar would be most delicious.
Kraagan stepped forward. “Are you ready, Vulek?”
“Captain Vulek,” he corrected. “And yes, we are ready. Are your men ready?”
Kraagan smirked beneath his helmet. “I provided men who were willing to die for you summonings, and you question me now?”
Vulek spat. “Then let’s go. Charge!”
---=][=---
Scootaloo was in the thick of it. She was fighting things she had never seen before and she was loving it. The Emperor’s boys were probably the most interesting. They loved getting in fights, up close and personal, and they swung chainswords, power swords, and a few of them even had thunder hammers, which shattered the ground beneath them as the slammed into the earth. The eldar were still a little flighty, and the Chaos boyz typically got pushed behind by the daemons who were far more interested in the fight than they were.
The daemons didn’t impress Scootaloo, that much, but the actual boyz were a better fight.
A massive woman, with six breasts, half of them sagging while the other was pierced with more steel than Scootaloo really wanted to think about, roared in front of her. Two of its four arms ended in massive claws while the other two carried massive daemonic blades. She smiled to herself as her red bionik eye centered on the Keeper of Secrets. That would probably be big enough for her.
Spreading her wings, she took to the sky, claiming her space on the battlefield as she leapt into the air. Her shootas were firing a constant stream of bullets as she leapt onto the Keeper’s back, invisible to the daemon. She latched on, her power klaw digging into the monster’s skin even as she continued to fire.
The beast turned violently, trying to snatch the thing that was hurting her, only for her eyes to pass right over the pegasus.
“What’s da matter?” she yelled, as her shootas kept firing, sending a spray black ichor back into her face as her power klaw ripped into daemonic flesh.
The Keeper of Secrets swung its blades behind herself, trying to catch Scootaloo, and she answered with another grievous wound from her Klaw.
A Space Marine with a thunder hammer ran up, and with a mighty strike, he completely destroyed the Keeper’s knee.
“Oi!” Scootaloo yelled from the daemon’s back. “This one’s mine, Space Marine!”
The Marine looked up, just in time to see Scootaloo’s power klaw rip out the monster’s throat.
And he took a long look at her.
His hand went to his ear, and he began to speak into his vox relay, only for an eldar shuriken to slice through his neck, leaving him to die as he drowned in his own blood.
---=][=---
Apple Bloom fired into a small skirmish between a striking scorpion and a chaos marine. Her bolter spat round after round into the forces in front of her, destroying her foes with all of the fury she could manage.
From crater lip to crater lip, there was nothing but heretics, and xenos, and it was her duty as one of the Emperor’s chosen to cleanse their filth from the face of the galaxy.
Her bolter continued to fire, destroying yet another lesser daemon with well placed shots to the head, even as a powerful kick sent an ork flying.
Her squad was behind her, laying down fire, while backed with Lazarus’ own Warp fire.
Apple Bloom was leading her squad, further and further north, towards the chaos forces, firing into the ranks of Alpha Legionnaires, and Emperor’s Children alike, ignoring anything that got in her way.
She dived down into a smaller crater inside the larger one, using the lip as a form of cover as she fired into an Emperor’s Children line. They answered back, their bolts exploding as they hit the lip of the their cover. Ramiel slammed into the dirt next to her. “Alright, Xeno, what’s your plan?”
“My plan?” she asked, smiling. “What are you—? Ah!” She cried as a bolt round slammed into her helmet.
“Apple Bloom!” Karlon yelled as he followed up next to her.
A mechadendrite ripped her helmet off of her head, and she cursed as her mane went everywhere. “I’m fine. My auto senses are damaged, though.”
Coberos landed on the other side of Ramiel, even as Apple Bloom’s mechadendrite reached down beneath her neck for a long, almost forgotten ribbon. “I’ve heard reinforcements will arrive soon. A dreadnaught is to be dropped from orbit.”
“Good!” Karlon laughed. “That should get their attention!”
Once her mane was secure, she connected her helmet to her magnetic belt, and leveled her bolter once more. “Well anytime now, would be good,” she muttered.
As though to answer her, a massive bomb of adamantium and ceramite slammed into the Chaos line. It’s long gangplank doors fell open, and were joined by a rain of bolter fire and small missiles, leaving the payload to walk free.
A large, boxy machine walked out of the drop pod, one of its massive arms firing las blasts while the other held a massive claw that grabbed whatever poor traitor was within reach and crushed him. “Vengence is mine,” a booming, robotic voice called out from the dreadnaught, “even in death.”
“Hameal?” Apple Bloom called.
The Dreadnaught turned. “Ah! Apple Bloom! Join me! The Emperor’s Justice must be carried out!”
Apple Bloom smiled. At least she still had one friend.
What she did not realize, however, was that she was being watched.
An eldar, off to the side of her climb, noticed the four-legged marine, and could only stare as she began to climb up after their machine.
He began to open his mouth, almost as if he were about to say something, only for an ork choppa to catch him in the back.
---=][=---
Sweetie Belle always knew that the forces of Chaos and the Eldar were traditionally at odds with each other, but this was just horrifying.
One of their artillery machines was...well…
It was a farseer, or, had once been a farseer. The poor woman was stripped naked, and bloated to a horrid size. She sat on a throne carried by feminine legs, and was mockingly decorated with spirit stones. A massive cannon protruded from her pregnant belly, and her six, shackled arms dug into her own skin as she fired balls of daemonic fire.
She was moaning, but from pain or pleasure, she could not tell.
Then again, this was a product of She Who Thirsts, it could be both.
The worse issue, beyond the horrid mental scarring, was how powerful the cannon was. A good hit had already damaged one of the wraithguard beyond repair, and he lay useless behind them, despite Sweetie Belle’s best efforts.
Another blast of evil incarnate slammed into the dirt, rocking the ground beneath her and the warlock. The wraithguard slowly turned, before firing their cannons off towards the soulgrinders, trying to hit them with their warp-vortex blasts, but their short-range weapons could not reach.
The warlock did his best to aid them, throwing bolts of warp energy, but those too, failed to connect. A Space Marine charged, while the wraithguards were busy and distracted with the soulgrinders, firing his bolter as he tried to kill the Eldar sorcerery.
Sweetie Belle answered with a wraithbone spear, the psychoplastic slicing through the joints of the power armor with shocking ease, and crippling him where he stood.
She waited a second, before she drove a new blade into his neck, in the space between his armor and his helmet.
The warlock, meanwhile, began to push towards the soulgrinders, cursing in the eldar’s musical language, and filling the air with a storm of psychic energy.
“Kaelyth! What are you doing?” she asked as they began to move.
“The Soulgrinders!” he roared. “Attack them!” he ordered.
She sighed, recognizing the order as though it had been given to a dog, but nonetheless began to follow.
A small squad of orks screamed, catching her attention as they ran up to her, wielding choppas as they roared their battlecry. “Waaaaaagh!”
Sweetie Belle readied a set of blades, and defended herself as the ork launched themselves at her. The first attack split an ork completely in halves, the wraithbone passing through skin and bone with ease. The next strike took a head cleanly off while the third gored an ork through the heart.
The fourth ran up, yelling, before suddenly stopping as he took a good look at Sweetie Belle. “Wait…’Ang on a minute…”
And that was a far as he got before one of the wraithguard fired his cannon, opening a portal to the warp directly on top of the ork, sucking him up, and away.
---=][=---
Vulek cursed.
He stood behind the army, watching as his forces were being decimated. Both the Eldar and the Space Marines prioritized his forces over each others, putting their differences aside just to kill a daemon or Chaos Marine before returning to murdering each other.
The only one he could count on to show no bias were the orks, who were happy to kill whatever crossed their path.
No, this was not appearing to go well.
“Is everything well?” A voice said behind him, and he turned, tentacle flailing, to see Kraagan.
He hissed. “What does it look like, fool? Or have you gone senile in your old age?”
Kraagan slid over to him. “It seems to me that our forces...are failing.”
“Your forces are failing,” Vulek growled.
Kraagan glanced down at Emperor’s Children captain, and Vulek finally noticed how tall he was. “Then perhaps a change of tactics is in order?”
Vulek glared at the tall Chaos Marine. “What’s your game, Legionnaire?”
“Perhaps it would be best to pull back? Let the enemy waste themselves on our daemons and destroy themselves on each other, while we pull back for a new weapon?”
Vulek turned to him, staring. “New weapon? What new weapon?”
Kraagan stared at him, and Vulek could tell he was smiling beneath his helmet. “What weapon indeed?”
---=][=---
Scootaloo roared as she found herself next to a Killa kan, a horrendous machine piloted by a grot, forever encased in a body far stronger and deadlier than he originally had. The gretchen laughed maniacally as years of repressed memories and violence resurged as he finally had a chance to let loose.
Scootaloo stayed behind it, because you never could trust a Killa Kan to be civil.
She leapt into the air, firing her shootas into a eldar warrior that was screaming at her in a way she did not appreciate. As soon as she silenced her throbbing headache, she turned again to rip a Space Marine’s chest open with her klaw.
“Haha!” the grot in the kan bellowed, as his spinning saw blade sliced an Eldar in half. “Who’s da small one now, eh? Who’s da small one now?!”
Scootaloo rolled her eyes, before something caught her eye. A massive tank, painted red, crested a boulder, firing las blasts from the side-mounted, twin linked lascannons.
And, in a most orky display, a single Space Marine stood on the tank, swinging a hammer at anything that got close, smashing skulls and crushing heads with ease.
She blinked at the display, shocked to see something so orky from someone that wasn’t an ork, and it almost cost her her life.
A sudden las blast scorched through the air, and slammed into the Killa Kan. The machine’s metal body began began to heat, turning red until the gretchen inside boiled, and the Kan burst open. The explosion rocked the pegasus, and sent her flying.
She soared through the air, spinning as she flipped end over end.
Finally, she landed, and she landed hard. Another rock, unearthed from the bombardment, appeared beneath her, sharp shards of stone cutting into her skin.
She growled, grunted, and pushed herself up.
And then she stopped.
She turned.
And she couldn’t believe her eyes.
---=][=---
“Get back here, cowards!” Apple Bloom roared, firing her bolter. “Get back here and die!”
The chaos forces were retreating, heading north once more and disappearing into the trees. Her shots trailed after them, even as she was being swarmed with daemons that sought nothing more than sensation. They formed a living wall of profane flesh, blocking her even as Hameal’s heavy, mobile sarcophagus slammed into them with his dread claws.
“Get back here!” she roared again, before lobbing a glob of acid spit into a daemon’s face. “Aldwil will be avenged!”
Before she could shout another word, a massive claw swung down at her, snapping her up, into the air. Her mechadendrites worked quickly, slamming into the sides of the claw to keep it from snapping her in half, before her own arms moved to do the job.
A Keeper of Secrets grabbed her in one of her lower arms, numerous piercings running through her chest, and a face that not even a mother could love screaming in orgasmic pleasure. Apple Bloom growled, glaring at the daemon before she freed her mechadendrites, and fired her bolter directly into the Keeper’s breasts. (S)he howled in pain as the bolts exploded in her skin, and she reveled in masochistic joy.
Swinging her hind legs up and around, she threw herself over the claw, landing on its surface as the daemon began recover. She ran along the claw, trying to keep her balance as she charged forward, the energy field emitters whining as they charged up.
The Keeper’s second lower arm began to cross over, his giant claw reaching out for the red, armored thing crossing it's arm.
And then Apple Bloom kicked.
Her hooves struck with the strength of Thunder hammers, and combined with her already incredible strength, the blow was enough to rip the Keeper’s chest in half.
Now suddenly airborne, Apple Bloom tumbled through the air, falling far faster than she wanted.
Rolling into a ball, she did everything she could to protect her neck as she landed.
She fell hard onto rough stone, but her armor held, and her augmented body would not break so easy.
She spun onto her legs, leveling her bolter at a nearby creature.
And then she stopped.
She turned.
And she couldn’t believe her eyes.
---=][=---
Sweetie Belle ran after the warlock.
Kaelyth had charged forward, either drunk on the courage of being backed by three wraithguard, or a stubborn tunnel vision that only an eldar or an ass could possess.
The larger issue was that he was walking through the heaviest fighting in the crater.
Ork trukks and battlewagons bounced wildly across the crater walls, carrying massive bulks of green skin whooping and hollering as they bore down on the armored Space Marines. The mon-keigh answered in kind, firing a hail of bullets at both the orks, and the lumbering wraithguard as they passed before them.
She cursed under her breath.
“Kaelyth! Kaelyth, stop! It’s too dangerous!”
The warlock did not answer, throwing warp bolt after warp bolt at the slowly retreating soulgrinders.
She could feel it.
The warlock had felt something in seeing the farseer cannon, and it bled out into an aura of anger that Sweetie Belle could tell you was almost tangible. He strode forward in a fury, casting every ounce of psychic power he had at the infernal machines.
“Kaelyth, stop!” she yelled. “This is insane!”
The warlock was becoming dangerous. His fury burned brighter than a man’s could, and it was beginning to affect his discipline. She could feel the barrier between the Warp and reality weaken about him as he pushed himself to greater and greater attacks.
“Kaelyth! It’s too much!”
The Warp had already begun to seep into reality. Sweetie Belle found her breath becoming shorter, the stones began to bleed, a veil of darkness surrounded the Warlock, and a thin layer of frost covered everything around him.
And still he pushed.
She yelled once more, only for her voice to be silenced by an unseen force.
She tried to warn him.
She tried to stop him.
And she could not.
Kaelyth prepared a new attack, throwing everything he had into a new attack, and it was only when the Warp howled behind him that he realized his mistake. A portal had opened behind him, and a mighty gale whipped about him.
And the last Sweetie Belle heard of Kaelyth was his tortured scream as She Who Thirsts swallowed him whole.
With the psyker gone, however, the wraithguard were now on their own, and they could no longer see Sweetie Belle.
A giant foot slammed into the ground next to her, and she said something very unladylike as she was thrown up into the air by the stomp.
She yelped, before yelling up at the wraithguard. “Hey! I’m right here!”
If it heard her, it showed no signs.
And that’s when she realized, to her horror, that both ork and Spcae Marine were beginning to fill the space between the constructs.
The wraithguard began firing their cannons into the space between them, and Sweetie Belle ran for it. Anything would be better than being thrown into the warp by her allies. It would be an accident, she knew, but she wasn’t going to let them have the chance.
Bolting for an open space, free from her wraithguard escorts, Sweetie soon found herself surrounded on all sides by both orks and Astartes. In answer, she pulled blades from her back, aiming for the necks, the weakness in the Space Marine armor, and as good a place as any for the ork.
She spun, a hair’s breadth away from panicking as she suddenly found herself in the center of a fight for her life. Her blades sang through the air, slicing at anything that got to close, while a third arm formed a simple shield to protect herself with. Plates of wraithbone grew from her body, oozing out from her flanks to armor herself.
A Battlewagon had pulled up behind her in the confusion, and while she did not notice, a Space Marine did.
A missile flew over the battlefield, screeching through the sky before it slammed into the tank. The resulting explosion sent Sweetie Belle flying, and she landed hard on a rock nearby.
She groaned, before she pushed herself up.
And then she stopped.
She looked up.
And she couldn’t believe her eyes.
---=][=---
The three ponies stared at each other, eyes wide.
Apple Bloom, armored in the power armor of the Adeptus Astartes, decorated with the Imperial Aquila, glanced between the other two. Her eyes darted wildly, and her bolter kept snapping between the two. Her mouth was drawn in a hard line, but it would not take a psyker to recognize the uncertainty in her.
Scootaloo was covered in blood, stiches, and scars. The first one was new, born from the battle, while the latter were made from years of living with the abuse and trials of the Waaagh! Her power klaw slowly closed, and she blinked with her only living eye, while the red glass of her bionic stared on.
Sweetie Belle seemed to be the best and worst off all at the same time. Large studs of ivory stuck out from her back, many transforming into odd blades, or other odd shapes. Her skin was littered with wraithbone, and her eyes looked like they had seen horrors that the others could only imagine.
“S-Scootaloo?” the unicorn spoke, “is that you?”
Sweetie’s eyes danced across the pegasus’ form, a part of her incapable of believing that her friend had fallen in league with such barbaric creatures.
“A-Apple Bloom?” Scootaloo called.
The poor mare looked like she was on the edge of simply killing them both. Her bolter was still leveled at both of them, yet everyone one of them could see that it was shaking slightly in her mechadendrites.
“S-Sweetie Belle?” the Blood Raven finally called, her voice shaking as she eyed the unicorn.
The xenos taint was everywhere about her. From the wraithbone that seemed to live in her, to the disgusting eldar influence in the shape of the blades she carried. Even her movements stank of the alien’s impressions.
Silence hovered over the three of them for a moment.
And then Scootaloo gave a barking laugh. “Ha! All the worlds in the galaxy, and you all had to come here!”
Her laugh sounded hollow.
“Well…” she said, speaking again, “I want to say it’s good to see you…”
“It’s not…” Apple Bloom said.
Sweetie Bell could feel the conflict of duty and joy in the Space Marine’s mind. She wanted to be glad to see them.
Scootaloo nodded. “Yeah, we kinda have to kill each other, don’t we?”
Another moment of silence.
“So…” Scootaloo said again. “You’re one of the Emperor’s boyz now, eh?”
Apple Bloom did not lower her bolter. “Eeyup. You’re an ork now?”
Scootaloo smiled. “Deffskullz. We’z da best!”
“And you, Sweetie Belle?” Apple Bloom asked. “A member of the Eldar.”
She grinned sadly. “You can’t be an Eldar without being an Eldar. I’m closer to being a pet, but yes…” she said, before her eyes went to Scootaloo. “You...you were the one who killed the king, weren’t you?”
Scootaloo nodded. “Heard about that, huh? Yeah...I...They rub me the wrong way.”
Sweetie Belle nodded. “Yeah, I get it…”
There was silence again.
“We can’t…” Sweetie offered.
Apple Bloom merely nodded. “No, we can’t.”
She still did not lower her bolter.
And all they could do was stare at each other.
“It...it’s been a long time, girls,” Sweetie Belle said.
Apple Bloom nodded. “Too long.”
And indeed it had been. It had been too long for it to matter anymore.
They all knew the truth. They were enemies now.
Friendship was dead.
Apple Bloom’s ear twitched.
“Sister Apple Bloom?” a voice called, and three pairs of eyes went to the source.
Karlon and her squad stood next to her, standing next to an Eldar, who stared up at the three of them, confused.
Looking around, they could all see that the fighting was beginning to slow. With the Chaos forces gone, the Eldar were more concerned with defending themselves than actively fighting. The Space Marines, were quick to notice Apple Bloom, as well, and news spread quickly amongst the Astartes.
Eldar, Space Marine, and confused ork all stopped to stare at the three ponies.
Sweetie Belle could feel a few curious warlocks touching her mind, and a wave of empathy could almost be seen passing through the Eldar ranks.
And before long, all in the crater was quiet.
Until someone had to be an idiot.
“Oi! What’s goin’ on!” an ork yelled from the crowd. “Why’s we talkin’ instead of fiogtin’?”
Scootaloo growled. “Stuff your zoggin’ gob, or I’ll cut yer legs off and send ya off ta tha pain boyz!”
Sweetie Belle shook her head, and Apple Bloom’s mouth was drawn in a tight line. “We’ve wasted enough time here,” she said, before she turned, and began walking away.
“Apple Bloom?” Sweetie Belle called.
The Space Marine shook her head. “No, it’s been too long. I...I won’t kill you today, if for nothing else but respect, but I will not hesitate tomorrow.”
Scootaloo nodded. “Sounds fair to me…”
Sweetie Belle looked between the two. “What? Girls, no! We...we don’t…”
Apple Bloom shook her head, and Scootaloo spoke. “No, Sweetie Belle. We do. It was good seeing you both.”
And Sweetie Bell simply stood there as Apple Bloom and the Blood Ravens marched east, while Scootaloo and the orks went south.
---=][=---
“What is the terror of death?
That we die our work incomplete.
What is the joy of life?
To die knowing our task is done.”—Imperial Thought of the Day