Equestrian Sixth

by Sandstorm Inkwell

War In The Streets

“Ugh.”

A pile of debris shifted before a hand shot from it, scraped, bloody, and dirty. With a grunt of effort, the hand shoved off enough debris for a second hand to join the first. With two hands, the being continued to push off debris, it clattering to the cobblestone street. Finally, enough debris had been removed to allow the being to sit up.

Eyelids fluttered to get rid of the dirt before brown eyes scanned the street. Now free from the debris, the being's hands fixed the once pure white beret that sat atop it's head. A pin decorated the front of the beret, depicting an eagle with wings swept back. In the eagle's talons was a standard issue las-rifle, a parchment tied to the barrel flowing underneath the eagle. Carved onto the parchment were the words; “Six's Fighting Sixth”.

“Where the fok am I?” he asked, adjusting the black flack vest that rested over his dark blue uniform. A black pauldron rested over his left shoulder, depicting-in stark white-the Holy Aquilla of the Imperium of Man; a double headed eagle with wings outstretched.

A green splash of energy swept up from the debris next to the Guardsman. Looking, he was met with a very interesting sight. Down the street were three equine creatures. Two were more insect like as the Guardsman could see their nearly transparent wings. The third was more of a normal horse besides the fact that it was wearing bright gold armor and had what looked to be wings poking from it.

The Guardsman, Jvarn was his name, watched as the three fought. The two black, insectoids ganging against the winged-horse. Then, his jaw clenched as he watched a green bolt fly from one of the insectoids and nearly impact the winged-horse.

“Witches,” Jvarn growled as he watched the other insectoid also fire off a green bolt of energy. Grabbing his las-rifle, which sat next to him in the debris, he brought the metal stock to his shoulder. Shifting himself into a crouch, Jvarn looked down his iron sights at the brawl. He didn't know what the winged-horse was or why it wore armor but he knew he had seen the insectoids use some sort of psychic power. If they were tainted by the warp, he would happily send them back to their dark gods.

His finger tightened slowly around the trigger before the rifle gave a soft lurch. The softness of the recoil was compensated for by the harsh CRACK!-hiss of the rifle's report. The blood-red beam shot forth before striking one of the insectoid equines. It stumbled, blinking in surprise before three more las-rounds slammed it to the street. With it's carapace cracked, sickly green ichor leaked onto the road.

The two other beings had frozen when the first round struck and looked directly at Jvarn after the insectoid fell against the street. He noted that their eyes were unusually large and he doubted it was completely due to surprise. Where the winged-horse's eyes looked much like his, the insectoid had blue eyes with a white, beady pupil. While the winged-horse looked on, slack-jawed, the insectoid hissed at Jvarn as it's horn began to glow the same sickly green as the first one's blood.

Whatever it had planned to do, the three las-rounds that slammed into it interrupted it permanently. As it joined it's comrade on the street in eternal slumber, the winged-horse's surprised face turned to one of fear as Jvarn stepped from the debris pile and began to walk calmly towards it. He looked at the habs that he walked by, noticing that some looked to be stores. He also noticed that the doors and windows looked... smaller. It looked like they were built for the inhabitants of a low-gravity world and yet, he could feel that the gravity on this world was similar to his homeworld of Veno Six.

Reaching the corpses, the winged-horse having stepped back from them, Jvarn prodded one with his boot. He could feel the carapace through his boot and raised an eyebrow from it. They were indeed insectoid equines. He had never heard of such a thing before and yet he couldn't say he was truly surprised. The Warp, the twisted home to Chaos, could produce any number of sensible or non-sensible beings to fight the Imperium. He couldn't help but feel, however, that this was not a product of the warp. It wasn't... twisted enough.

A series of soft, melodic notes had Jvarn's rifle back to his shoulder and scanning for a threat. It had sounded like an Eldar and yet not like one. With confusion mounting, Jvarn lowered his rifle slightly when he didn't spot anything. Looking at the winged-horse, he could see the fear and confusion in it's expressive eyes. The coat of the creature was white, much like his beret had been, but the mane and tail were a vibrant blue.

“You are a stange little creature,” he commented off-handedly. He watched it recoil in shock and couldn't help but think it to be an oddly human reaction for a beast of burden. Then it opened it's mouth and he knew that it could be no simple beast of burden.

Soft, melodic notes seemingly swam from it's open mouth.

“By the God-Empe-” A green bolt interrupted Jvarn as it flew in front of his face to impact a hab's wall. Looking at where it had come from, he could see more of the insectoid equines moving and... flying down the street to Jvarn and the, now revealed, xeno. The Guardsman looked at the armored xeno to see it glaring at the insectoids and preparing itself for a fight, it's wings spread in a predatory manner. After a brief argument in his mind, Jvarn removed his blade and affixed it to the bayonet lug on his rifle. Raising it up, he aimed at the insectoids.

“Puskai Veno! Puksai Imperiar!” he yelled as he charged at the insectoids, his rifle cracking rapidly as it fired on full-auto. He could see the xeno charging along beside him. He knew he may regret not using it's brain matter to decorate his blade but the insectoids were the bigger problem now.

With that thought in mind, he plunged his bayonet into an insectoid and flung it into one of it's brethren. With the green blood arcing through the sky, he felt himself smiling. Even if he was sided with a xeno, temporarily of course, he was still doing the Imperium a service by killing these warp tainted creatures.

Elsewhere in the city, a trio of foals were backed into a corner by a lone Changeling. It bared it's fangs menacingly as it wings buzzed in anticipation. The foals were switching between whimpering and screaming for help but it looked as if nopony heard them as the Changeling continued to advance uncontested.

As the Changeling readied to pounce, a red flash lit up the alley. An angry red bolt slammed into the Changeling's head, obliterating it before shortly obliterating it's torso as the round traveled through it's head. Screams had accompanied the glorious display of violence as they watched the Changeling's head turn into a green sphere.

One of the foals looked up in time to see a shadow jump across the gap between buildings. With the Changeling dead, it's gore splattered equally on the ground and the foals, the foals began to tighten their grip of each other. The one that had looked up dragged a tarp over them in the hope that it would hide them. Luckily, it would.

Their savior jumped across another gap as she sprinted across the rooftops. Lucky for her, most were flat while those with an angle weren't relatively steep. She could see the smoke columns dotting the city scape, a solid indication of war. While she didn't know what the insectoids or horses were, she knew that the insectoids were bad news. Of course, she had also realized that the horses were xenos and for that fact she would stay away from them.

Coming to a stop, she scanned the road that she stood over. Up the street, she could see metal flashing and could hear the clash of a melee. Kneeling, she brought her long-las up to her shoulder and sighted in on the struggle. As usual, the insectoids outnumbered the xenos. The xenos, though outnumbered, fought with a passion that would make most Commissars cry in joy... had they not been xenos.

“Must be their home,” she whispered to herself as she sighted on one of the insectoids. Kilm, the sniper's name, let out her breath slowly as she tracked her target. When her lungs were empty and her body steady, she squeezed the trigger. With a report muffled by the suppressor, the rifle bucked into her shoulder as the round shot out. Even with the recoil, she kept the scope on target until said target turned the street around it into a gross representation of modern art. She had been pleased that even the less powerful long-las rounds could have this effect. It meant that she could save her precious hot shots for other engagements.

Swiveling to another target, she noted that some of the fighters had paused in surprise to the sudden and brutal dispatch of the insectoid. This note was filed elsewhere as Kilm sent another round flying down range. Again, she watched as the round hit. To her dismay, it did not explode, though the hole the round made was quite impressive.

With two shots fired, Kilm stood and began to sprint along the rooftops again. Two shots. That was the drilled maximum that a sniper could take before they should move to another firing position. For Kilm, this meant sprinting across the rooftops until she came onto another brawl. Sometimes, the xenos were armored and other times they looked to just be civilians fighting for their homes. As she ran though, she could tell that the fight was not one-sided as xeno corpses could be spotted on the streets below.

“BURN! BURN IN THE EMPEROR'S NAME!” the cry soon dissolved into maniacal laughter as the large Guardsman, Hayt, swept his flamer side to side, engulfing the chittering insectoid horde in burning prometheum. He wore the same as Jvarn and Kilm: black boots, dark blue combat fatigues, a black flak vest, a black pauldron with Imperial Aquilla, and a white beret with their Regiment's pin. Hayt, though, also wore a pair of fire-retardant black gloves and a white rebreather that covered his lower face. On his back was the pack of liquid fuel that fed the fire-spitting weapon in his hands.

He had woken up with one of insectoid equines sniffing the nozzle of his flamer. The pilot light igniting had charred the thing's carapace and startled it. The spear of flame that followed had roasted it inside it's own shell. The insectoid's friends had apparently been angered by that, which led to Hayt currently roasting the group of them in a wall of fire. Despite his laughter, Hayt was a sane man. Well, as sane as any pyromaniac could be. His love for fire was viewed with confusion when one learned that he had come from an ocean-world, small islands giving foundation to large vertical cities called hives.

Then again, when one was being faced with a waved of Chaos cultists, or insectoid equines as the case may be, one didn't question it. Instead, they watch in satisfaction as he turns the approaching fiends into walking candles. Of course, as with all pyromaniacs, Hayt sometimes got carried away.

“HEHEHE! BURN!”

This instance being a great example.

Hayt saw, to his dismay, one insectoid that was not caught by his delightful flames. It was running down the street, away from him.

“NO! YOU MUST FEEL THE EMPEROR'S WRATH!” Hayt screamed as he charged through the still burning horde, long since dead, after the fleeing insectoid. He watched it round a corner and disappear. Letting off a bout of flame, laughter accompanying, Hayt continued to charge after the insectoid.

Rounding a corner, he was met with a peculiar sight that was lost on the maniacal Guardsman. In front of him were three horses. Two wore golden armor and had horns sticking from their forehead while the third had dark purple armor. The purple armored horse also had leathery wings and a crossbow while the two golden armored horses' horns glowed, a shield in front of the trio.

Hayt's eyes, though, never left the fleeing insectoid. He watched as it charged past the three horses-to their confusion-and go through the one way shield before entering a mass of insectoids that were hammering at the shield. The grin beneath Hayt's mask seemed to grow as he spotted the mass of insectoids that was much larger than the recently cooked horde he had first seen.

“BE CLEANSED BY MY FLAME!” he screamed as he charged at the mass. His eagerness had caused him to depress the trigger earlier, the flame licking the purple armored horse. Luckily, the flame did little more than torch off a part of it's fur and darken it's hide. As soon as fire met carapace, Hayt began to laugh again as he swept his flamer side to side. The burning fuel ignited the insectoids and began to cook them within their own shells.

As the entire front portion of their group was consumed in flames, a few turned and began to run, leaving the maniacal Guardsman and burning comrades. The trio of horses, the shields now dropped, simply looked on in a mixture of elation, confusion, and fear. Who knew when the crazy bipedal creature would turn that device on them?

Hayt cared about none of this. The only thing he cared about was his crackling, yellow and orange offspring and boy... were they hungry.

Author's Note:

I wrote this while listening to The Battle For Canterlot by ElectroKaplosion. Go ahead... click the link. You know you want to.

By the way. Warhammer 40k is owned by Games Workshop while MLP:FiM is owned by Hasbro and yadda yadda yadda.

Comments

[Lord Commissar Alexer]

Looks promising. The imperial guards are as far as i can tell in character.
I really hope they don't get too friendly with the ponies.

Keep it up.

[axiosriot]

farm2.staticflickr.com/1060/5124699989_a414738d44_z.jpg

this story is good so far

[formlessdream]

More pls....

or face summary execution for dereliction of duty by your local officer of the Commissariat.

[Sabban]

It stumbled, blinking in surprise before three more las-rounds slammed it to the street.

Lasbolts. They're lasbolts.

[Sabban]

With a report muffled by the suppressor, the rifle bucked into her shoulder as the round shot out.

Long-Las is a type of lasgun. Lasguns have flash suppressors, they do not suppress sound.

[Sabban]

Again, she watched as the round hit.

Laser beams travel at the speed of light and do not follow ballistic trajectory, watching as the bolt hit its target is physically impossible.

He wore the same as Jvarn and Kilm: black boots, dark blue combat fatigues, a black flak vest, a black pauldron with Imperial Aquilla, and a white beret with their Regiment's pin.

No combat helmet\breathing mask?

[The Well Dressed Ninja]

2624735
I dunno, I've always felt people have gone to extremes with this. It's either kill them all or hugs and kisses (eventually). Why can't we have a fic where they are tolerated yet disliked?

[DarthMalentai]

Hyat Best intro for a character I have seen in a while.

[nothing_to_see_here]

2627255 you are really going to question this regiments attire when there are regiments in the Imperium that go into battle wearing their dress uniforms?