• Published 20th Oct 2013
  • 9,201 Views, 760 Comments

Strange Bedfellows - BRBrony9



MLP/WH40K Crossover- An Imperial Crusade discovers a remote planet and its unusual inhabitants, but it soon becomes clear they are not the only ones whose interests lie in Equestria....

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Buying Time

Major Harding burst into the Imperial command centre, set up in the basement of the palace at the behest of King Garston. Auspex screens and chart tables were dotted around and a mass of cables wound their way across the floor. Captain Halix, the second in command of the Parvian detachment that had actually made it to the planet before the battle in space had begun, saluted.

'Sir, we have incoming from orbit. Auspex shows drop pods on a course for the town, we're reading six tracks. A further fifty tracks indicate dropships or shuttles. ETA for first impact is two minutes.'

'Son of a bitch...' Harding grunted. 'All defences on full alert. Launch the Valkyries if there are any left. All air defence units are clear to engage as soon as contacts are in range.' Halix hurriedly relayed the orders, which went out to the frontlines. Men scrambled into their trenches. Safeties were flicked off. Gun barrels and missile tubes were traversed skyward. The two surviving Valkyrie gunships roared into life, standing by at quick reaction stations, and clawed skywards, swinging away into side valleys to hide from enemy sensors.

Above ground, Celestia and Garston were issuing orders to their own forces before hurrying down to the Imperial command below. The Griffon soldiers were all issued with similar repeating rifles to the pony troops, but a large amount of their civilian militia had nothing more dangerous than a spear or sword, with a smattering of crossbows. Their forces were deployed within the city, behind the frontlines in anticipation of a potential ground attack. The royal guard contingent joined them, guarding the palace where their princesses were located. The Pegasi Assault troops were assigned to high spots, rooftops and ridges. The three airships, having escaped being targeted and protected from shrapnel and blast by their hurriedly erected magic shields, were rapidly cast off from their moorings, their engines whirring as they climbed free from the plateau. The smaller Griffon ship joined them in taking to the skies as the first drop pods arrived.

The small metal cylinders scythed down through the sky, their undersides glowing orange from the fires of atmospheric entry. A few Manticore launchers blasted missiles skyward to intercept. smashing one of the pods to pieces. But the others came on, and the first three pods smashed into the plateau, sending up fountains of snow. Their side panels blasted off, courtesy of explosive bolts, and death stormed out.


Celestia and the Griffon King arrived in the palace bunker, a hive of conflicting reports, shouted orders and semi-organised chaos. The pony princess sought out the Major, who was directing efforts over the vox.

'Major!' she called sharply.

Harding glanced round. 'What is it?' he growled, having no time to respect her status even if he had the desire to do so.

'I have a plan. A plan to get your fleet back into this fight. But you must buy me time. Keep the enemy away from the palace. I would ask you assign a soldier with one of those communication devices to me, that I may keep in touch with you and with the King.'

Harding shook his head in disbelief. This horse princess, who seemingly had no knowledge of the nature of spaceflight or modern communications technology a mere hour ago, now had devised a plan to contact the fleet and end the warp storm? The Major had little time for such games, but felt obliged to humour her in order to keep her out of his hair and keep her forces fighting the archenemy. 'Fine, fine. Whatever you say. Take...you there!' He pointed to a junior Lieutenant comms officer. 'Grab a vox set and go with the Xen...with the princess. Let me know if she actually does anything worth reporting.' The Lieutenant saluted.

'Yes sir...' She went off to grab a portable vox as a sudden flurry of reports came in of the first drop pods landing. Celestia trotted away, following the wary human officer. Luna was waiting at the top of the stairs, and the elder sibling stopped to address her.

'You know what needs to be done, sister. Take command of our forces. Keep the enemy away from the palace while I enact the plan. It may have been concocted in haste, but I am sure it will work. However I am unsure how long it will take...it will require a high level of precision.'

'Of course, sister.' Luna nodded. 'We will buy you the time you need.' Celestia lowered her horn to cross it with Luna's, a sign of love and respect among unicorns and Alicorns alike. Then she was gone, trotting rapidly away. Luna climbed the stairs to the main entrance and emerged into the light of her sister's sun.



On the snowfield, not far from the burning remains of the Imperial landers, the drop pods disgorged their passengers. In a broad sense they were human, but to be more accurate, they were Astartes. Traitor Astartes to be exact, fallen superhuman warriors lost to the dark powers, who betrayed their people and their Emperor to serve Chaos. Towering over regular humans even stark naked, their suits of Power Armour lent an extra foot or two to their impressive height, and the ceramite and adamantium plating provided protection against all but the strongest blows. Weaponry that could shatter a main battle tank would often struggle to penetrate such armour, and even if it did, the superhuman within could take punishment that would reduce a normal man to a bloody paste. On top of that, the Thousand Sons storming onto the battlefield could count the blessings of their daemonic patron, Tzeentch, the Chaos God of Change. His foul sigils, along with the eight-pointed star of the archenemy, adorned their blue-and-gold armour, bolters clutched in their armoured gauntlets, thirty Chaos Space Marines stepped onto the pristine snows with murder on their minds.


'Command, command! OP 4! Marines! It's the marines!' someone screamed. 'Traitor Marines! Do you copy?!' The vox was alive with reports, and there could be no doubt. The fallen Astartes were upon them. Major Harding closed his eyes for a moment. 'We have contact, drop pods! Marines!' 'Enemy contact, Chaos forces...Astartes!' Units on the west flank were panicking at the mere sight of the enemy. A hail of las-fire and bullets met the marines, and didn't even faze them. Their bolters flashed brightly, flinging high-explosive rounds at the defenders. Missiles roared from the trenches, bringing down several of the advancing figures even as the remaining pair of drop pods slammed down within the Imperial lines, one of them shattering the cobblestones of a wide street and the other caving in the roof of a building.

More traitor marines burst forth, guns blazing. A dozen Guardsmen went down immediately, caught from behind by the sudden arrival of enemy forces inside their defensive perimeter. Las-fire pattered harmlessly against their armour as they began their advance, intent on rolling up the western defensive line from behind and linking up with their brethren outside the town. A few of the Griffon militia charged fearlessly, flapping towards the strange creatures in their midst. It was the last movement they would ever make, as they were left shredded on the ground, ripped apart by the mass-reactive bolts. A missile screamed from a house nearby, blowing the legs from one marine. In return a hail of bolts smashed the wooden structure, followed up by a gout of roiling fire as one marine opened up with a flamer. Several Imperial troopers ran screaming from the inferno, cut down as they fled.

'They're inside the lines!' 'Enemy forces in the town!' 'Emperor preserve us, they're everywhere!' Panicked voices crowded the airwaves as the command centre's vox sets relayed the news. The battle plan was quickly unravelling as the sock attack from the heavens had its desired effect- it was sowing panic and confusion among the defenders.

'Son of a bitch...' Harding muttered. 'Pull troops from the eastern flank and get them over there! Pull back Gamma platoon and deploy them around the palace, reinforce the cordon. And keep those triple-a skyward. We still have incoming,' he reminded his subordinates. The marines may have arrived first, but they were not the main force being deployed against them. They were, however, proving just how effective the Chaos elite could be. What I wouldn't give for a squad of loyal Astartes right now, Harding mused.

On the snowfield, the Marines advanced steadily, firing from the hip, targeting computers within their suits guiding their aim. Imperial defenders went down, pinpoint shots blasting holes in them. Tanks in the line roared their defiance, smashing several marines to pulp with heavy battlecannon shells and bursts of heavy bolter rounds. A missile spiralled in as a response, and one of the tanks went silent, smoke pouring from its turret ring.

A sudden pillar of dirt and snow erupted from the ground, sending one marine tumbling. As it backed away from the plateau and maneouvered, the Starswirl's main bombardment cannon began to reload, even as its smaller deck guns, those that could be traversed far enough, fired, smaller explosions hammered the advancing enemy. Bolt rounds and a missile rose to engage the airship, but detonated harmlessly against the magic shield. From the other flank came a hail of rocket fire as one of the Valkyrie gunships swooped down, pounding the marines and peppering them with multilaser and heavy bolter fire, killing one. But they were closing in on the Imperial line, and worse, they were closing on it from behind as well.



Corporal Claas, an experienced guardsman of the Parvian 2nd Brigade, was afraid. He had fought tyranids, he had fought orks, and he had even fought Chaos before. But he had never fought the Traitor Marines, and now he could only imagine that was the sole reason he had lived as long as he had. The devils were marching, marching through a hailstorm of defensive fire. He peered over the lip of his trench again. Sure enough, they were still coming; not sprinting, not running, just calmly advancing as if they were out for a stroll in the park. Nothing seemed to faze them. He watched as a lascannon punched a hole in the torso of one marine, expecting him to fall. But he just carried on, bolter blazing. A string of explosions erupted along the line of advancing death as one of the pony airships unleashed a broadside. And still they came. The Valkyrie flying close air support swung in again, ripple-firing its remaining rockets and pummelling the snowfield. And still they came. Claas fired his own lasgun in a futile effort. And still they came.

And then the cry went up.

'Contact rear! Contact rear!' someone screamed. 'They're behind us!'

Claas turned and peeked over the parados of the trench. The town was meant to be secure, but he could see at least three of the blue-and-gold devils moving, advancing, cutting down some of the hapless Griffon militia who were trying to charge them with spears.

'Oh, Emperor no...' he breathed. Surrounded by traitor marines was not a good position to be in. One of the tanks nearby swung its turret around to engage the new targets, but with a sudden hiss and a whooshing roar, the vehicle simply exploded as one of the marines unleashed a burst of melta-fire on it, the superheated fusion blast simply melting straight through its armour and detonating its ammunition. Claas flung himself to the bottom of the trench as shrapnel filled the air. When he dragged himself to his feet again, he saw one of his squad still standing in his firing position, leaning against the trench wall. It took a moment before he noticed the man no longer had a head, it having been removed in its entirety by a bolt round.

Claas stumbled back and fumbled for his lasgun, picking it up. Smoke flowed into the trench from the burning tank and he could see little. He could still hear gunfire, though its intensity had slackened. He moved down the line to try and locate the platoon Sergeant or an officer, looking for orders. Instead, he found his death.

Through the smoke above the trench, a hulking figure loomed. Claas looked up and raised his rifle instinctively. His blood quickly froze in his veins and his finger refused to pull the trigger, overcome by a fear that surprised him. He had fought the ravenous hordes of Tyranids and the slavering Ork brutes with courage and conviction. He had been afraid, of course, but he had never known true fear, never the certainty that he was going to die, until this moment, and of that there could be no doubt, for he knew it as an absolute fact.

The Traitor Marine pulled his trigger, and proved Claas right.




Lieutenant Albaran was confused. She didn't know what she was meant to be doing here. Chaos was attacking, the archenemy was at the gates, and she was...standing around aimlessly while some Xenos horse princess put on a pretty light show? The situation had been bizarre enough beforehand; fighting alongside alien forces on a strange planet. Albaran had been uneasy to say the least about the unholy alliance, but she had to admit that for some reason, being in the presence of this princess had eased her fears somewhat, though she couldn't place exactly why. But she seemed to be wasting time- did the Major not need her in the command centre? Why had he given her this assignment when it seemed to have no obvious purpose?

The pony was a psyker, that much was clear. Before the arrival of their airships, the Major had given a briefing to his officers informing them of that fact and urging them to be cautious around her. 'Psykers are dangerous,' he had reminded them. 'Xenos are dangerous. Nobles are dangerous. Put them all together and Emperor knows what might happen.'

But now Albaran was just waiting. Waiting for what, she didn't really know. The Major didn't have time to explain, and the princess seemingly didn't have the desire. She stood in the centre of the main banqueting hall of the Griffon palace, eyes closed, her horn giving off a rich, golden glow. But that was it. Nothing was happening, so far as Albaran knew. So she stood waiting, the vox set beside her, ready to report to the Major as soon as something, anything, actually occurred.



'Sir! Report from observer team 1. The western line is breaking!' a comms officer shouted. Harding swore. Observation Team 1 were Atter and Mons, aboard the pony airship Starswirl. If the western line broke, the Chaos marines would be free to link up and storm through the western districts of the city, which was still full of civilians. Their lives meant nothing to him, but they might distract the marines long enough for the Imperials to redeploy troops from the other flanks to reinforce the inner defence line, a second ring of steel within the town that held the palace at its centre.

'Order all troops from the eastern line to pull back to the inner cordon,' he commanded. 'Status on those airborne contacts?'

'We have them on Auspex, sir. Altitude now 300,000 feet. They'll be in missile range in three minutes,' came the reply from the anti-air officer.

'Very good. Clear to engage as soon as they enter range. Bring as many of them down as you can,' Harding ordered. 'Captain Halix?'

'Sir?' The Captain looked over from the chart table where he was mapping the enemy positions.

'I want you to head topside. Take command of the inner defences. If we can bring down enough of their dropships we might just have a chance.' Halix saluted.

'Yes sir. We'll hold the line, you can count on it.' He handed over the marker device to a subordinate and headed for the stairs.

Harding observed the map for himself. It didn't look good, and it was only going to get worse. Doubt we'll survive the day, he thought. Only a miracle can save us now.




On the eastern snowfield, the high tracks and the ridgelines around Griffonstone, Imperial air defences waited. The Manticores at least had had their first taste of action engaging the drop pods, but the Hydra gun crew with their much shorter range were still tense, eager to get into the fight.

As the Chaos Marines raged through the western perimeter of the city, their reinforcements were descending from orbit. Dropships and shuttles, considerably slower than the drop pods, brought down nearly two thousand men, traitor infantry made up of rebels, hardened criminals, cultists and defecting PDF or Guard soldiers. Though their numbers were lower than that of the forces defending Griffonstone, they expected the marines to have ripped a large hole in the defences, through which they could strike. The marines had been able to open up the ground defences, but the anti-air batteries were too widely spaced around the 'cauldron' formed by the peaks and ridges for them to attack. This ring of steel was still standing ready to engage, and the Imperial targeting officers rubbed their hands in glee as the main landing force came into range, a cluster of red blips on their targeting Auspexes.

One after another, the heavy interceptor missiles heaved themselves free of their launch rails and blasted skyward, pillars of smoke and flame marking their passage as they rose to greet the uninvited guests. Each of the half-dozen launchers fired off two of its missiles. The ponderous shuttles overhead had no chance of evasion, but the somewhat more sprightly dropships that were the unlucky recipient of an illuminated missile warning light began to try and jink as best they could at high altitude with sluggish control surfaces due to the thinner air. Dispensers released clouds of chaff to try and throw off the radar locks, with limited effect. The missiles struck home and half a dozen dropships vanished, bursting into fiery trails streaking across the sky as a hundred men were extinguished in a moment. Two of the larger shuttles were also struck hard, the proximity fuses of the missiles warheads blasting out a cone of shrapnel that shredded their ailerons and smashed thrusters and anti-grav units. One shuttle spiralled away out of control, while the other rolled almost lazily over as it began its earthward plunge. Two missiles were diverted by the chaff and exploded harmlessly in mid-air, but the two final warheads found their marks and two more dropships were knocked out.

Some of the launchers had fired at the earlier wave of drop pods, but those that had remaining missiles fired again, another round of high-altitude attacks for the landing forces to deal with. Another three dropships were destroyed as they descended rapidly, braking thrusters flaring as they reached the troposphere. Their missiles spent, the Manticore launchers were rendered impotent, as reloading them would take too long to be performed during combat. The enemy aircraft dropped lower, swooping down over the high peaks and using them for cover to approach the town. As they crested the final ridgeline, however, they came within range of the Hydras.

The heavy rapid-fire quad autocannons on the eight Hydras protecting the town opened up with a sound like tearing canvas. Hundreds of shells were hurled into the sky like steel rain. As the dropships appeared, they were met by the onslaught. Several went down almost immediately, smashing into the snow-strewn mountainsides in flames, pummeled by the high-explosive rounds. The enemy pilots dropped to the deck as fast as possible to escape the fire. A few ducked below the rooftops and were able to land their troops near the eastern edge of the town, where the defence lines had been heavily thinned due to the redeployment to protect against the marines' incursion. A trio of gunships escorting the dropships opened up as they climbed over the ridge, missiles racing from their rails and knocking out two of the Hydras in retaliation.

Small arms fire from a few scattered positions, including Pegasi snipers on nearby high points, met the invaders as they disembarked. A couple went down, while the others quickly spread out to find cover as their dropships opened the throttles and roared away overhead, one taking a hit from a burst of flak and staggering before falling, demolishing a two-storey house as it bounced and rolled before bursting into flame. More dropships snuck in under the barrage and landed their cargo before pulling away. The slower shuttles began to crest the ridge, presenting themselves as easy targets. Several of the Hydras took advantage and peppered one of them with heavy shells. It bucked and tried to weave and evade, but was far too cumbersome to do so successfully. The combined fire of twelve rapid-fire autocannon shredded the shuttle and it slammed into the snowbank with a thud, breaking in two and exploding. But as the first was being targeted, the second was able to slip through and land. An entire company of infantry rushed down its boarding ramp to join the fight.

There were only so many Hydras, and with at least two of them trying to track and destroy the enemy gunships before they came round for another pass, several shuttles and more dropships got through. More soldiers made planetfall, eager to fight and kill. The Imperial position had shifted, from holding the whole city to focusing their efforts on defending an inner ring around the palace. Despite Major Harding issuing a general fallback order, several groups of Griffon militia and infantry, either accidentally or deliberately, were never informed, and found themselves cut off and massacred. With the Chaos Marines now inside the city, the pony airships, joined by their Griffon counterpart, turned their attentions to the aerial threat. The deck guns and machine-cannon of the Vanhoover and Canterlot engaged the nearest dropships, while the Starswirl swung about to bring its bombardment cannon to bear on the new enemy landing zone. Once it was lined up, a huge gout of flame roared from the barrel as the cannon lobbed a heavy shell, sailing across the city with a sound like a passing locomotive. It slammed into the snowfield to the east of the city and annihilated one of the infantry squads heading for the buildings. As another shell was being loaded, one of the Chaos gunships raced around a rock pillar and opened fire, a dozen rockets being unleashed at the large airship. They burst harmlessly against the shield and the gunship roared by, pursued by puffs of smoke from the rapid-fire guns of the Canterlot. The aircraft swung around and came in again. This time, however, its target had switched to the Griffon craft. As Griffons had no magic, and the ponies had no unicorns to spare, their craft was unshielded. Though it mounted half a dozen cannon on anti-air mounts, they were not rapid-fire like those aboard the two pony City-Class ships, and when the first broadside volley missed, the gunship struck. Rockets streaked from the pods beneath its stubby wings, smashing into the gondola. Unlike the pony airships, the entire gondola was wooden and had no metal armour, and the rockets punched straight through, a string of explosions running their way along the port side. Fires caught hold rapidly, beginning to burn freely on the side of the gondola. Griffon firefighting teams took to the wing and went over the side in a vain attempt to combat the spreading blaze. As the gunship pulled away, a hail of fire from the Canterlot greeted it, punching holes in its starboard wing. It limped away trailing smoke, but it had done its work.

With a sudden blazing flash, the magazines of the Griffon airship detonated, ripping the gondola to pieces. Shrapnel punched through its unarmoured gasbag, which immediately ignited. The inferno rapidly spread along the entire length, the contents blazing like the sun as the remains of the airship began to slip back and down, losing altitude rapidly. It struck the edge of the plateau and tipped over the edge, dropping out of sight and landing with a cacophany of crunching girders as the metal skeleton of the gasbag smashed into the gorge below.



Twilight and her friends could hear the battle rage, hear the gunfire and the explosions and the scream of jet engines. But they were powerless to help, both because of a lack of combat experience and because Princess Celestia had ordered them to stay in the palace, with a squad of Royal Guard outside their door, inside the ring of steel the humans had thrown up. Both she and Luna feared that the Elements were the target of the enemy- they were not attacking merely because the humans were present, or because it was a population centre. The pattern of attacks had followed them across the land, and rapidly, too. Furthermore, while at both Canterlot and Griffonstone the enemy had made use of orbital strikes, they had been targeted, specific, not designed for total destruction- just enough to bring down the city shield, specifically aimed to destroy the Imperial craft and not the town- too much of a coincidence. It was clear they wanted something or someone specific, and given that the Elements had been crucial in defeating Discord, Chrysalis and Sombra, Chaos, Deceit and Tyranny personified, it seemed that the enemy wanted to either possess them and use their powers for evil, or do destroy them to forestall a threat against themselves. Either way, Twilight was sure none of the Elements would allow that to happen, whatever the cost may have to be. She looked around at her friends, her best friends.

Steadfast Applejack, the hard-working rock around which the group gathered, the one who would never give up, never complain and never lie.

Gentle Fluttershy, by far the least warlike of the six but the one with the kindest heart, the biggest heart, and the warmest soul.

Elegant Rarity, her level of generosity belying her name, the one who would do anything for a friend in need no matter how grand or how trivial.

Zany Pinkie Pie, the one who anypony could turn to when they needed a smile, the one who would always be able to brighten the darkest day.

Bellicose Rainbow Dash, the first to leap to the defence of her friends, the last to back down from a fight, the one who could be relied upon to always be there.

And finally Twilight Sparkle- leader, genius, star pupil of the sun princess- and completely helpless.

She sighed nervously. Their room didn't even have a window, so she couldn't even gaze out at the fighting for some distraction from her own helplessness. The battle raging was, yet again, of a scale far beyond anything she had experienced before these humans came, beyond anything most ponies could ever remember. And maybe- just maybe- it was all happening because of them.

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