• Published 8th Jul 2014
  • 7,190 Views, 442 Comments

Of Xenos and War - Snake Staff



Sequel to The Dark Ones. Twilight Sparkle now serves the Imperium of Man in its war against those who destroyed her home. But when her buried past looms large, what will become of this last little pony?

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Rearming and Recruiting

++Lunar-class Cruiser Kyne’s Fury, Orbiting Denton III++
++3.632.879.M39++

Twilight’s padded hooves trotted along the cruiser’s metal floors, making as little noise as reasonably possible. A short time after leaving the Lord Inquisitor’s office, she paused, tapping her chin as if in thought, and then changed directions. She knew exactly where she was going – she’d taken the opportunity to commit the ship’s entire layout to memory years ago – but she would need a replacement for the bolt pistol she had lost in the Necron ambush. And there was only one place to get that.

“I hate this place,” Twilight thought to herself as she sourly stared up at the twin combat servitor guards barring her way. The enormous skull – what was it with these humans and decorating everything with their own remains – and cogwheel symbol stamped on the thick double doors guarding the portal made it obvious who this section of the ship belonged to. The Adeptus Mechanicus were the antithesis of everything she had valued back on Equestria, but…

“No!” Twilight screwed her eyes shut and smothered that train of thought. “Those days have come and gone. Nothing good is going to come from sulking about this. Just get in there, get a new pistol, and get out.” She opened them again to regard the servitors, which had finally turned their creepy, half-dead cyborg heads to look her over carefully.

“Halt,” said one in its hollow, robotic monotone.

“I am halted, you idiot,” Twilight snarked in her head.

“Present identification.”

“Because there are so many other lavender alicorns on this ship, right?” Nonetheless, she pulled a small badge of office from her belt with telekinesis and held it up to the servitor’s face.

“Scanning… Scanning…” repeated the servitor as it swept over the proffered token again and again. Twilight tapped her hooves impatiently, her wings fidgeting at her side. “Scanning completed. Identity confirmed. Access approved,” said the thing at last. The twin machines stepped aside in unison to admit the alicorn.

Twilight returned her token to her belt and took a few steps forward. The twin doors split down the middle to grant her access to the Mechanicus domain. She trotted through them with just the slightest twitch, her mind unable to entirely erase the image of diving headfirst into the jaws of some gigantic predator.

The interior was lit sufficiently for unaided organic eyes, but only just. Its mistress considered such things a great concession to the un-augmented on her part. Row after row after meticulously ordered row of technical equip was visible in the sterile gloom. Twilight could make out cogitators, equipment stores, assorted workbenches, and racks full of labeled chemicals, machine parts, and the preserved fragments of dissected bodies that had caught the Magos’ interest. All that and more could be found here, she knew from prior experience. Monotask servo-skulls hovered up and down the various rows, playing endless loops of chanting in binary, the incense burners hung below them letting the perpetual scent of cinnamon and embalming fluid waft over everyone’s nose.

Twilight suppressed her grimace. Once, she had been excited to come into a place like this. Now… “Not so much,” she winced as a servo-skull passed directly in front of her face, its chanting grating at the ears. “It’s alright. No need to panic. We’re all friends here.” She swallowed once, and then trotted further in.

“Hello?” she called, echoes bouncing off the distant chamber walls. “Magos Katravich? Are you here?” Twilight paused and waited some moments, but there was no immediate reply. “Hello? Magos?” she spoke out again, louder this time. “Are you here? It’s Acolyte TS, I need to speak with you.”

Heavy footfalls resounded throughout the enclosed space as something finally started moving. “Assertion: I am a mere 15.89 meters from your location. Your inability to locate my presence visually is another demonstration of the inherent inferiority of organic sight. If you would allow me to-”

Twilight interrupted before the Magos could finish. “Magos, we’ve been over this! You may not replace my eyes with cybernetics simply to see how my species reacts!”

More footfalls. She was close now. “Declaration: Irrational desire to keep inferior original body parts is a sign of psychological weakness.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Can we please drop it already?”

Magos Katravich finally stepped into her view. Supposedly, this creature before her was a female. Besides the slight alto tone to her synthetic voice, Twilight had never been able to tell the difference. Her long, hooded red robe covered most of her form, metallic boot soles sticking out from the very bottom. A long skull and cogwheel amulet dangled from where her neck might once have been. Five different mechandrites protruded from her back, ranging from a heavy-looking claw to a metallic tentacle ending in a thin, delicate-looking instrument Twilight had never seen used. And her face…

Or, what had presumably been her face. Now it was an immobile, almost flat mechanical mask. Unmarked gunmetal grey in color, with a triangle of three glowing blue circles Twilight knew to be her eyes in the center and a circular hole where her mouth should have been, it was the stuff of nightmares. Four insectile mandibles sprouted from four points around her circular mouth, curving to meet near its center. They made a habit of clicking in an unnerving manner at irregular intervals, for no purpose Twilight could discern.

The abomination in front of her spoke again. “Gratitude: My thanks for returning alive, Acolyte. It would be most difficult to dissect your corpse if you were disintegrated by the xenos.”

“Okaaay…” Twilight muttered, a little nervously. “I came here to talk to you about my equipment.”

“Observation: You lack one of the holy bolt pistols I have given you. Speculation: You have lost the Omnissiah’s bounty in some manner and you come to me seeking a replacement.” Magos Katravich’s mandibles clicked audibly.

“You conclusions are correct, Magos. The honored machine fell in battle with the unholy abominations we face, and I am here to humbly petition the Mechanicus for a new partner,” said Twilight in the ritual manner she had learned to use, ignoring the bile rising to her throat. Her head bowed slightly.

Magos Katravich’s mandibles clicked again. Those three blue stared down unblinkingly at the alicorn and the mechandrites on her back moved and spun and twitched with no discernable pattern. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking as the seconds turn to minutes, and Twilight’s neck began to ache from holding its position. Suddenly, the Magos spoke up again, her head bowing in the same manner as Twilight’s. “Declaration: The Mechanicus agrees to provide the Holy Inquisition with more of the Omnissiah’s bounty to replace that which fell in honorable battle.”

Twilight suppressed her urge to sigh at these theatrics. “The Inquisition thanks the Mechanicus for its cooperation.”

“Invitation: Come.” Katravich turned and set off at a heavy, but surprisingly fast pace, forcing Twilight to trot to keep up. She led the alicorn down one of the rows, past all manner of strange equipment, before coming to a halt before what looked to be a reinforced metal cabinet of some kind. One of her mechandrites plugged itself into a slot on the side, and a moment later the doors swung open to reveal a rack full of all manner of weaponry, from Imperial staples such as las and plasma and bolt weapons, to more exotic devices like digital and even one or two samples of Eldar weapons. The Magos’ claw mechandrite grasped a well-polished pistol from the wrack and held it out as the cabinet shut itself again.

Twilight’s horn shown and her magic grasped the proffered arm. After a quick inspection, she bowed her head again. “My thanks, honored Magos.”

“Demand: Honor the machine-spirit of this weapon. Do not allow it to fall while you draw breath,” the Magos said as she also gave a slight bow.

“I shall do my best.”

“Declaration: You may repay me by donating a limb to my research. Perhaps one of those legs? You have several to spare and mechanical replacements can be fashioned.” Her mandibles clicked yet again. Twilight didn’t know if it was her imagination, but they sounded almost excited at the prospect.

“No, Magos,” Twilight declared firmly.

“Dismissal: Then cease to intrude upon my work, Acolyte. The Omnissiah demands much from those who would walk His sacred path.”

“Gladly, you freak,” Twilight thought as she turned to exit the chamber.


Sometime later, Twilight arrived in her own quarters, mentally and physically worn from the stresses of the mission and loss of so many men. Her room, as would be expected by all who knew her, was meticulously ordered and spotless down to the last detail. With bare metal for walls and several glow strips along the ceiling, the room featured a bed that was far too long for her, a shortened desk and a chair meant for Ratlings, a shelf with mixed paper tomes and dataslates, a small closet, and a chest for personal effects.

Twilight sighed with relief when her door finally sealed itself shut behind her. She was safe. Safe and alone again.

“About damn time,” she thought as she worked her magic on the armored shell that had protected her body for some three days straight now. It came off easily under her telekinetic touch, unraveling from her body to let it breath again. The air, even stale and recycled as it was, felt excellent and refreshing against her coat. Twilight simply stood still with her wings spread wide for a moment, savoring the feeling of freedom she got from being able to walk around without her gear.

“Just like I used to be able to back-” Twilight cut herself off with a firm shake of her head. “No. No more nostalgia. There is the here and now, and moping about what you lost won’t do anypony any good.”

Taking a second look at her desk, Twilight saw that her Lord Inquisitor had done as he’d said. A new dataslate sat beside her standard meal tray on the flat, silvery surface. Her body and mind craved sleep, but she was well used to repressing such urges. It was best, she decided, not to delay in getting a new squad together.

Hopping onto her cushioned chair, Twilight’s grumbling stomach directed her to the tray first. She cast a small spell over it, checking to see whether it was toxic or not. The magic told her it was safe, and she gratefully chewed at the offered greens and sipped the nutrient gruel. That spell had been one of her first inventions after joining the Imperium, after a quick bite of what had looked like a tasty domestic flower had landed her in the medicae for three solid days. Turns out it had been almost lethally poisonous to her biology, despite being harmless to humans.

“And wouldn’t that have been a tale to tell,” she thought idly as she gulped down more of the Imperium’s tasteless, but filling, nutrient gruel. “Twilight Sparkle. Alicorn princess. Element of Harmony. Personal student to Princess Celestia. Survived the apocalypse. Killed by a flower.” She couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the rather morbid thought.

Twilight finished off the gruel and chewed slowly at the long, boiled green plants she had been given. She didn’t know what kind of plants these were, and honestly probably didn’t want to know where they’d found them. But they tasted nice, and they weren’t toxic to her. A pleasant thing to munch on while reviewing candidates for her new squad.

“Might as well get to it,” she told herself, and flicked on the dataslate. A few minute’s look told Twilight that Lord Inquisitor Rovini had been as good as his word. Hundreds of men and women of the Imperial Guard and PDF were listed, along with commendations and honors they’d received or been nominated for. A slight touch brought up a more in depth profile for each of them, recounting their training, combat experience, and what actions had brought them to the Inquisition’s attentions.

If there was ever a thing Twilight Sparkle was good at, it was reading. She read through dozens of profiles in the space of a few minutes, evaluating the potential risks and benefits to each candidate. Various ideas of squad compositions came together in her head and were dismissed or modified as she saw fit.

Twilight scrolled down the list a bit further. One entry caused her to raise an eyebrow. “A PDF man? Recommended for bravery by a Commissar and a Space Marine Sergeant? That’s hardly normal.” She opened his file and began to read more.


Sergeant Alex Aisen was not having a particularly pleasant day either, if anyone was wondering. He’d woken up around mid-afternoon in a medicae with a splitting headache and a really bad hangover. His personal flask, where kept the very best stuff, was missing for some reason. And on top of all of that, he was handcuffed to the bed!

“Look, whatever it is you think I did,” he said to the Sister Hospitaller who was fiddling with some medical equipment plugged into his arm. “I didn’t do it! Honest! I’m a law-abiding, Emperor-fearing citizen just like you! Ok, maybe not just like you, you Sisters have always been more holy than me, but I’m a good man! I pay my tithes and taxes, and I attend worship every week! Ok, maybe not last week…” Aisen paused to think for a moment. “Or the week before that… Or the week before that… Or that other week… Was out drinkin’ with the lads that week… Hmmm…”

“Silence,” said the Sister, sternly.

“Yes ma’am, shutting up now.” Aisen clamped his mouth closed.

“You are a drunken, lecherous, lazy, irreligious man barely even worthy to serve in the Emperor’s honored Planetary Defense Force,” she said bluntly, looking down at a dataslate in her left hand.

“Oh, come on, I’m not that lecherous. You’re cute, but do I look like I’m making a pass at you right now? No.”

“Your hands are chained to the bed,” she wryly observed. “In any case, it seems the God Emperor saw fit to do his work through you last night.”

“Great. Does that mean you’re letting me go with a warning and such?”

A mask covered up half the Sister’s face, but Sergeant Aisen could swear he saw a smirk underneath it. “Hardly. Your actions during the xenos attack have attracted attentions much higher than mine.”

“What? The Council want to give me a medal or something? I don’t really remember much of what happened, but they want to make me hero, fine by me.”

“Not quite.” Now Aisen was sure he saw that bitch smirking. “The Holy Inquisition.”

Aisen’s eyes went wide, his skin went pale, and he started to sweat. “The Inquisition?!” he gulped, incredulously. He tugged a little at his handcuffs. No good. “Please tell me that you’re playing some sick joke on me! I’m begging ya!”

“I’m deadly serious.”

Aisen gulped again, his mouth suddenly dry. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“It seems the Emperor has other plans for your service. The Inquisition will be making use of your… peculiar style of combat.”

“F-For… For h-how long?” Aisen managed, afraid he already knew the answer.

“I would think that would be quite obvious, Sergeant. Remember, only in death does duty end,” she said serenely.

Aisen licked his lips and swallowed.

“You are to be serving in a new squad being assembled. Your shuttle leaves in half an hour. These gentlemen will escort you there,” the Sister said, gesturing towards a pair of men in Imperial Guard uniforms seated near the medicae exit.

“D-d-do I have a-any c-choice?” Aisen was now openly shivering.

“Of course,” the Sister said warmly, showing her right wrist to the Sergeant. A pair of large injectors with odd blue liquid rested there. “These are for granting the Emperor’s Peace. If you’d prefer that instead…”

“NO!” yelled Aisen, much louder and more quickly than he’d intended.

“Good. Then make ready as best you can and say your prayers, Sergeant. For soon you will be in the hands of the Emperor’s Holy Inquisition.” The Sister Hospitaller looked to be smiling again as she walked away.