Lost Magic And Betrayal

by Politicalunrest2400

Chapter 9: Knight Fall

Wildfire was a unicorn pony, smart, skilled, and magical. That's why it shocked all of those at fort Omega when she opened her wings and took off, leaving the ground, and them behind.

As she beat her new wings, servos clinked and clanked, metal rebelling against the cold rain of the unnatural storm.

She quickly cast a heat spell to ward them against the chilling rain, similar to the spell she used on herself.

What had that pegasus said? There might be enemies coming here? she asked herself trying to remember the details of the conversation she had just had. Right, well better check it out. Her wings took her higher than the clouds, purple and blue lightning striking harmlessly, recharging her wings power cell. Well, someone doesn't like me she thought smirking at the storms frustration, buffeting her with strong winds that could only slow her down.

She broke through the clouds, and was greeted by pure, precious moonlight, and calm winds. The night up here was beautiful, a shocking contrast to the terrible storm below.

Oh, this wont do she thought sarcastically. Those cultists down there can't see Lunas work! Well, im going to have to fix that aren't I? With that thought she began to weave a spell, not unlike the previous two. Those below if they could have seen her through the storm, would have seen her begin to glow.

Fire began to wreath her body, as her spell took shape. To an outsider it would have seemed a few seconds had passed, but to Wildfire the intricate spell seemed to take hours to weave.

Finally, the spell was ready. Wildfire stared at her work pleased. It was not a perfect weaving, but it was the best she could do on such short notice.

A sphere of fire expanded out from her, engulfing the magically conjured clouds, even as purple and blue lightning struck out at her furiously. Her power cell was almost dangerously overcharged, when she began to dump its energy into the spell.

When all was said and done, her energy cell at less than half capacity, and her breathing coming in heavy and short breaths; she saw her spells effectiveness quadrupled.

She had hoped to clear a square mile or so, to give fort omegas defenders a chance to see the oncoming attack. Instead, she had cleared nearly six miles, exposing the eastern flank of the front line to Luna's precious light.

Exhausted, she began her descent back to the fort.

Six objects shot passed her, a blur to her visions. She was pulled off course in their wake, and struggled to regain control. When she finally did, she saw hundreds of cultists, war machines of various insidious designs moving among them headed for the fort.

Six craters suddenly appeared among the cultists as mud and ash spewed into the air below. Tiny blue and gold figures emerged from the wreckage and began to slaughter the cultists indiscriminately.

It took Wildfire a minute to realize.

The Knights had arrived.

---

Nights-shade activated his HUD just before impact. The drop pod would protect him of the worst, but he knew he would be disoriented for a short time afterwards. Even Knights would get dizzy when shot out of a cannon from high orbit.

The display shot to life, and so did the bolter rifle attached to his right shoulder mount. On his left, he held extra ammo clips, and a large scabared that held his chainsword. The sword was a weapon he hoped he didn't have to use, but knew he would before the day was done.

Impact in 3...2… the powerful entry thrusters kicked in slowing his descent at the last minute to survivable speeds...1. The Drop Pod rocked heavily as it hit the ground at speeds that would have shattered his spine had it not been for the heavy Knight armor, and the extensive augmentations that he had been gifted with over the past year. The Drop Pod opened with a loud hiss, just as his metal restraints lifted, allowing him to move on his own.

“Brothers, this is Captain Tidal Wave, evacuate your drop pods and engage the enemy with extreme prejudice!” came the voice in his ears. “Yes, Captain.” Nights-Shade said as he pressed forward, pushing through the smoke and dust, his voice joining in with the four others who swiftly acknowledged the order.

His HUD couldn't pick up more then heat signatures yet, but it wouldn't take long for one of his Battle Brothers to get clear of the dust and for his or her HUD to share that information with the rest of the squads. According to the readouts on his display, the wind had started blowing hard north, pushing the storm further away and with it the dust and smoke from their landing.

Bolter fire came from his left, and he saw five target acquired signatures flash into existence, and then quickly disappear as the bolter fire died along with the Deamons that they belonged to. “This is Heavy Weapons specialist Sea’s Wind. I have engaged the enemy! Deamons confirmed, repeat Deamon presence is confirmed.”

“I read you loud and clear Sea’s Wind, Deamon presence is confirmed. Requesting additional support. Assault Squad Theta inbound from Anthima city. Engage all hostile forces and exterminate with extreme prejudice.” Captain Tidal Wave’s voice echoed in his ear. A string of acknowledgments, including from Nights-Shade rang in his ear.

Refocusing Nights-Shade pressed forward. FIve heat signatures jumped forward out of the dust cloud that was beginning to dissipate a few feet in front of him. Four were almost pony’s, lithe and enticing in the worst possible ways, while the fifth stood on two legs, and held leashes to the others who cooed and petted their collars lovingly.

You Pony’s are interesting… a new dimension, just like home played out in miniature! The bipedal Deamons voice did not reach Nights-Shade’s ears, but reverberated in his mind a thousand times over, while a sense of pleasure at the creature's words exuded from the beautifully terrifying pony versions it was connected too.

“Your foul deceptions will not work on ME Deamon!” Nights-Shade growled as he fired his bolter with only a thought. His suit had no firing bit, everything ran straight into his mind through wires connecting him to the suit of Knight armor. The Bolter rounds, each dipped in holy water that had been blessed by celestia herself, and each painstakingly covered in hoof carved runes that spoke of ancient goodness, and friendship, elements that would drive the Deamons back from whence they came.

The bipedal creature exploded as the rounds entered her head, and detonated. Two more of the pony creatures died to the onslaught before they could react. “My Armor is disgust! My shield is contempt!” he said reciting the battle benedictions that helped him and his battle brothers to focus while facing insanity and Chaos incarnate.

A third of the pony shaped Deamons died, evaporating into smoke having tried to dodge to the left. The fourth seemed to shimmer, and Nights-Shade had a hard time concentrating on exactly where she was. “The Deamon is worthy of nothing but hatred!” he shouted contemptuously, and another hail of bolter rounds filled the space the Deamon had just been, but to no effect.

“Friendship is for only the worthy!” he shouted as he searched for the creature even as his HUD frantically scanned the dust landscape around him. Further away the display picked up on more Deamon’s, and marked their location, but they were too far away for him to worry about just now. Shaking his head to clear his vision, Nights-Shade turned around and found the Deamon trying to enter his Drop Pod. Smiling he watched as the Pod came to life, and its single Storm Bolter opened fire nearly point blank into its hideously seductive and shimmering face. Less than a second later it was dust.

As Nights-Shade turned, the final remnants of the dust and ash blew away, clear silver moonlight lit the battlefield. Threat indicators, hundreds of them, sprouted all around him. “Just another day in the Order, right battle brothers?!” came Tidal Waves voice over the comms. The blue and gold indicators on Nights-Shade’s HUD showed him that the captain was to his left about three hundred feet, while to his right was Sea’s Wind, and two more battle brothers who had already regrouped, and had engaged a group of fifteen Deamon’s in close quarters combat.

“Nights-Shade, Iron Hoof, regroup on me. The guard-ponies are getting overrun.” Nights-Shade pulled up the satellite image of the battle field, that had updated with positions of threats and allies marked in green for guard-ponies, and blue or gold for his battle brothers. The Deamon’s charge had been disrupted by the Knights fall, but their unnatural strength allowed them to recover far more quickly than any other foe would have. Once recovered, the Deamon’s had a choice, either face the Knights directly, and be turned to ash by the hundreds, or find a new target.

Looking on his map Night's-Shade watched in horror as nearly a hundred ‘target’ markers appeared in rapid succession as the last vestiges of the dust and ash from the Knights landing cleared away. It was not the amount of enemies that astonished him, he could handle a hundred Deamon’s himself if he had to, with nothing but his combat knife. Rather, it was where they were sprinting towards.

The Deamon’s it seemed to Night’s-Shade had, just seconds after the Knights landing, started beelining for a small dugout where a small, and beleaguered force of guard-ponies were stationed making for a convenient cross fire over the battlefield. Among the red and green markers, the later winking out of existence one by one at an alarming rate, there were two purple ‘VIP” markers. Around each, red enemy indicators vanished almost as swiftly as they swarmed. It was clear to Night’s shade though, that without some help, those VIP tags would soon disappear as so many of their green counterparts had.

“Sir, I see two VIP tags. Request permission to intercede before regrouping.” Static filled the other end of the crystal powered radio for a moment.

“Granted. Move it Nights-Shade, I think thats the general and one of Princess Luna’s Mage pupils. She won't be pleased if they get taken out.”

“Yes sir!” Nights-Shade replied as he ran back toward his drop pod. As he moved towards it, the lone and powerful storm bolter tracked him but did not fire, his FoF tag allowing the machine to recognize him as a friendly. Along the outside of the pod, he found what he was looking for. Hitting a large metal panel with a hoof, Night’s Shade turned around as automatic servo arms reached out and attached a large, and heavy jump pack to his armor.

Punching the activation key, Nights-Shade felt the burden of the heavy addition to his armor lighten, the powerful thrusters kicking in and lowering the impact of the armor on his suits servo's. On his HUD, a new read out appeared, a long line heading off into the distance that showed possible jump trajectories.

Marking his desired landing zone, less than five feet from the two VIP tags whose situation was growing more desperate by the second, a line representing his potential trajectory appeared. “Activating Jump-Pack” Nights-Shade said into his communications suite built into his helmet letting his battle brothers know his plan, then he hit the small button on the control arm with his left hoof. A small countdown timer appeared ”Ignition in... 3...2...1...0.”

The powerful Jets ignited, and swiftly carried him away from the mud and grime below. Small white clouds, the remnants of the storm, swirled around him as he reached the pinnacle of the arch, far less intimidating than their much larger cousins. The Jet’s kicked into a lower gear, this time controlling his descent.

Below him, close to the two VIP tags, were three green ‘friendly’ guard-pony indicators that showed the few remaining guards. The tags were huddled around the VIP’s and from the sight of las-fire and the distant wamp of grenades, Nights-Shade could tell they were fighting hard to keep their charges alive. The group had its back up against two massive tanks, as the yellow Armor indicators spat Heavy Bolter rounds almost point blank into constantly shifting demonic forms, turning them into ash by the dozens. The combined efforts of the Guard, VIP’s and the Tanks barely held back the tide.

Another timer appeared, this one with the tag ‘landing in:” 10...9...8… Nights-Shade overclocked his leg servo’s, providing them additional power for the landing. 7...6...5… Mentally he activated the chainsword sheathed along his left front leg. 4...3...2… He reached behind him, and in one smooth motion removed it from the scabbard using the magnets around his mouth bit, and his teeth. 1...0.

The impact was a mirror to the Drop Pods landing, but on a smaller scale. Daemon bodies flew through the air, even as those that directly surrounded Nights-Shade were ripped apart by the chainswords angry teeth. Their screams of agony and rage pierced the roar of his Jet-Pack and the angry revving of the mouth held chainsword, even as they faded away into ash and dust.

I am rage! I am the shield, the immovable wall against which you will break your will! he screamed in his mind. Just one verse, his favorite, out of the thousands of verses in the Litany of Arrogance, which in turn was one of a hundred Litanies that he had to memorize as part of the psychological conditioning or ‘indoctrination’ necessary to protect his mind against the horrors of Demons, devils, and chaos.

Electricity shot through the crowed of daemons, leaping from body to body until it lashed out, leaping toward him. Pain, pain he had known before, wracked his body.

“Power Crystals at maximum. Danger, overload imminent.” Came a female metallic voice in his ear, the machine program, or ‘spirit’ of his armor.

Alright then, he thought as the creatures around him, and between him and the VIP tags, melted into ash and blew away on the breeze.

The pain abruptly ceased, and control of Nights-Shade’s body and servo's returned to him.

Nights-Shade darted forward and behind one of the large Tanks, where one of the VIP tags flashed, as life signs faded. “NO!, Aspin, stay awake! Look at me. Aspen, open your eyes!” A large, elderly stallion with three General stars along his collar screamed, “Damn it Aspen, that's an order!” the stallion cried.

The Mare’s eyes opened briefly, as she lay among the mud and bullet casings, a large piece of Deamon claw sticking out of her stomach which slowly started to turn to ashe. Nights-Shade didn’t have time to listen to the mares final words. “May my vengeance be witnessed by the victorious dead!” he whispered to himself as he turned his back on the tragic scene.

Heavy Bolters from the Tanks spat death at the enemy, a symphony that Nights-Shade added the rhythmic *thud*thud*thud* of his bolter.

Inch by inch the enemy tide drew closer. It seemed inevitable, as if the enemy had inexhaustible numbers spewing from what the arch magi had only been able to name ‘The Warp’. The place of origin for the Daemon, and many of the dark powers that now threatened Equestria, and the rest of the world of Equis. A hellish landscape of crazed and constantly changing realities, expanding and collapsing on themselves over eons, that would seem to the sane mind mere seconds.

Nights-Shade’s bolter’s action locked forward, the clip empty. He pressed the small release latch with the side of his head, grabbed a clip from the saddle bag on his left with his teeth, and reloaded pressing the fresh clip hard into the top of the bolter.

“Get these hunks of junk pointed in the right direction!” came a voice that boomed over the sounds of spitting death. “That way!” the elderly stallions exhausted and frustrated voice rang. A few seconds later Nights-Shade felt the ground shake slightly, as the tank next to him turned painfully slowly, bringing all of its hull mounted heavy weapons to bear on the enemy.

Seconds later, two more Heavy Bolters which had been blocked by the original placement of the tanks, now joined in the staccato symphony of death, halting the advance of the wall of Deamons. Plumes of ash rose in the air, as Deamons died.

Nights-Shade felt a presence next to him. On his HUD the VIP tag appeared, pointing directly to his side. Nights-Shade smiled slightly at the determination of the elderly earth pony, joining the firing line. Seconds later blue flashes of Plasma leaped at the enemy, engulfing Deamon after Deamon in molten fire.

“GUARD PONY’S! BROTHERS!” A great battle cry came from the west. Nights-Shade couldn't spare a second to glance that direction, all his concentration was focused on the enemy and keeping them back.

“SHALL WE ABANDON THE FIELD!?!” came the magically enhanced voice as it boomed over the eruptions of Heavy Bolter fire from the tanks. A crowd’s voice arose screaming “NO!” from the west, and again Nights-Shade refocused his ministrations of death on the Deamon’s in front of him.

“SHALL WE ABANDON OUR ALLIES AND COMRADES TO THE DEAMON OR THE HERETIC!?!” again a great “NO!” from the west. Nights-Shades heart raced; if these guard pony’s, wherever they are, if they were are real and not some trick of the Deamon’s to get me to lower my guard, are going to attack, then why not just do it already!

“SHALL WE ALLOW THE ASTARIES, THE KNIGHTS OF THE SKY, TO TAKE ALL THE GLORY?!?” again followed by a “NO!” that sent shivers down Night-Shade’s spine.

“SHALL WE ALLOW THE DEAMON OR THE FOUL SORCERIES OF THE ENEMY TO BURN OUR HOMES AND SLAUGHTER OUR FAMILIES?!?!”

“NO!” from the unseen crowed.

“THEN BROTHERS AND SISTERS! LET US MEET OUT DEATH AND VENGEANCE UPON THESE FOUL CREATURES! CHARGE!” The unseen voice heroically declared.

Screw this guessing game, thought Nights-Shade activating his communicator. “Commander Tidal Wave, do you hear this? Where is it coming from?”

“Nights-Shade, I read you brother. Yes, it hear it as well. According to Lunara Tactical Command there is a force of nearly three thousand guard pony’s heading our way supported by light armor and scout walker sentinels. Their ETA is roughly ten minutes. Can you and your charges hold out that long?”

Nights-Shade took stock of his ammo counter which showed on his digital display as a number that hovered just on the right side of his vision, with a small arrow that pointed toward his bolter mount. Less than two and a half clips left. “My ammo is almost gone Captain. I would have to engage in close quarters combat, which might further endanger the remaining VIP.” Nights-Shade winced at his failure even as he continued to poor bolter rounds into the Deamon horde before him. Never should pain endanger the mission. Whether it's pain to one's honor, or to one's body it matters not, he thought quoting another of the hundreds of litanys he and his battle brothers had memorized.

“All other battle brothers are engaged at the moment, and i’m doing battle with a greater Deamon. No one can assist you, you will have to hold brother Nights-Shade.” Nights-Shade acknowledged the command flipping on a small ‘assistance needed’ request tag on his location via his HUD.

The minutes raged on, and Nights-Shade attempted to conserve his ammo, to little avail. Slowly, slower than before, the horde inched forward until they were within spitting distance.

“Captain, ETA on those guards?” Nights-Shade asked quickly as he loaded his last clip.

Static was his only response for a few painful seconds. A screatch from Nights-Shades west split the air, followed by purple light that covered the battleground in odd shades and colors.

“Squad Delta, this is Captain Tidal Wave. Any available battle brothers converge on Nights-Shades location.”

“Acknowledged Captain Tidal Wave. This is Commander Macintosh with squad alpha. We have broken the enemy advance upon Fort Omega. ETA to Battle Brother Nights-Shade’s position three minutes. Hold on brother, were on our way.”

“Captain Tidal Wave to Commander Macintosh. Your assistance is appreciated, will you be arriving via Thunder Hawk?”

“Yeeup.”

Three minutes? Screw it, Nights-Shade thought as the action on his bolter locked open, clip empty. Reaching down, he unsheathed his chainsword, the weapon springing to life as soon as the magnets around his jaws touched the mouth-hold.

With a thought Nights-Shade soared into the sky, jet pack reactivated. Manipulating the maneuvering control hard to the right, he began spinning around. Half a second later Nights-Shade found himself facing down head pointed toward the ground. The small landing indicator appeared on his HUD among the hundreds of Daemon’s. Nights-Shade almost laughed at the almost comical scene below. The enemy clamoring to meet their death on the wall of heavy bolter rounds continuously streaming from the two massive tanks.

Briefly glancing west Nights-Shade watched as hundreds of green ‘friendly’ tags sprang to life on his HUD. The guard ponys streaming steadily through the slowly drying trenches, accompanied by five or six of the light and maneuverable Chimera armored assault transports marked with the ‘light armor’ tag. To the north, he saw a squadron of three of the fast Sentinels attempting to flank the enemy chariots position, using the clouds of dust and ash that the meat grinder directly below him produced being blown north ward, as cover.

The tactical layout of the battlefield was lost to Nights-Shade as he overclocked his servos for the second time that day. A split second later he felt his momentum shift, his HUD indicating he had reached the top of the arch that the jump jets had set him on, and he felt himself begin to fall. Nights-Shade’s HUD displayed the landing arch, and he carefully aimed for his target.

Chainsword, executing rapier mode came the machine spirits oddly feminine voice, reverberating in his mind. The guard along the back of the blade began to fold in around the weapon‘s mouth hold, exposing the full length of the blade’s deadly biting teeth. As the blade finished extending out in front of him and locked in place, he picked the largest deamon among the enemy. A tall, Bipedal creature with a bull’s head, and oddly grotesque features which stood out among its sickly beautiful sea of daemons.

That’s almost large enough to be a greater daemon, Nights-Shade thought It must be directing the assault. With a thought, he approved the trajectory that his HUD displayed. As direct a path as he could hope for, then hit the maneuvering control, executing the hastily calculated ‘flight’ plan.

The wind rushed passed him as the jets ignited, and forced him toward the ground. Nights-Shade saw the waiting claws of the large Daemon he had aimed for, and revved his Chainsword in anticipation. The creature screamed in delight, as he impacted. Blood and gore spat into the air as his sword ate through its soft delicate flesh, and down to the impossibly dense bone of the Demon's ribcage.

The Daemon in retaliation grabbed at the plates of Nights-Shade’s armor ripping and pulling, trying to find purchase where its immense strength and size which provided it leverage, could be brought to bare.

Nights-Shade pushed down on the now prone Daemon’s chest, pulling his sword from its fleshy sheth. One of the creatures claw’s got a grip on his left shoulder pauldron, and pulled.

Nights-Shade went flying, the Deamon’s unholy strength throwing him into the mass of lesser Daemons. A warning sign appeared on his HUD for ‘damaged armor’ and the small representation of a pony outfitted in battle armor had its left foreleg blinking red, then yellow, then back to normal. Nights-Shade glanced over and saw his pauldron had been nearly ripped off, hanging only by a small set of wires that connected it to the rest of the armor.

The lesser Daemon’s had not yet recovered by the time he stood and began ripping them apart on the teeth of his weapon. Screams and ash joined with the rest, in an already oversaturated sky.

As Nights-Shade finished clearing a small area around himself he heard a roar of challenge. Turning and saw the great Deamon emerge from the rest of its kin, bullhorn's leveled right for him, impaling one just barely too slow, lesser Deamon as it charged.

Nights-Shade braced as if he expected to meet the creature head on. Just before the beast reached him, Nights-Shade ignited his jets again, hopping him above the charging Daemon. Nights-Shade twisted as the beast rushed past him, allowing the chainsword to swipe along the top of the beasts head, igniting sparks as it gouged across the crest of the Daemon’s skull.

With a thought from Nights-Shade, spikes extended from his armored clad hooves. Night-Shade contorted his body, flipping himself around, and allowed the jets on his back to force him toward the creature. The spikes, assisted by the force from the jets, sank deep into the creature's back, providing Nights-Shade with the hold he needed.

The Beast roared in anger and pain, as it bled profusely from where the silver and rune carved spikes dug into its back. NIghts-Shade could smell the creatures seared flesh from the burning wards, even through his techno-magic air filters, as ash billowed from where the creature touched the spikes.

Revving the engine in his sword to its highest setting, Night's-Shade struck at the beasts exposed neck as it clawed at him helplessly. Gore and daemon ichor sprang into the air and swiftly turned to ash, as he pushed the blade deeper, as the beast trashed, reaching back trying to grab him.

A few seconds, the beast screamed its final death rattle as the blade cut through the impossibly thick bone armor, chewing through its spinal cord. Its scream pierced the ash filled sky, drowning out the thudding of the heavy bolters still hard at work.

Nights-Shade dropped the blade reaching for a small pouch that hung off of his Bolter. A split second later, the pouch shoved into the crevice that he had carved out of the creatures bone, he hit his thrusters once more, propelling him back into the mass of lesser daemons knocking them to the sides as he rushed on.

A short time later, the creature howling in pain and uselessly groping the still active chain sword as it dug deeper into its neck, was engulfed in the purple and blue flames of one, then four, then six melta bombs.

“Daemon is down. Repeat, the daemon leading the assault on the VIP’s is down.” Nights-Shade said into his communications suit. There was a reply, but he didnt hear it, as an alarm sounded in his head. ‘low fuel’. His jets sputtered, and then swiftly died.

He found himself prone and pinned by a thousand filthy hands and hooves. Murderous intentions clear on the Deamon’s faces. Pain exploded in his right fore-shoulder, where the daemon had ripped away his armored pauldron. He tried to fight back, tried to struggle, but the press of bodies was too much for his already over stressed survo’s to overcome.

Pain shot through him in a few other places, as armor was pried back, exposing him to the Deamon’s dark ministrations. He would not die so easily, even if he could not fight back, it was his duty as a knight to frustrate the enemy wherever he could. If that meant dieing slower than they anticipated, then that would be how he spat into the eye of chaos one last time before his soul went t meet its final rest.

It seemed as if minutes went by, Nights-shade’s vision slowly began to shrink. the last thing he remembered hearing before the darkness took him, was the sound of powerful jets and bolter fire directly over head, and the hiss and crack of las fire in the distance..

Author's Note:

Let me say this again, this is most definitely a rough draft. But please, if you have comments, suggestions, questions / critiques please leave them in a comment below! I can always use help to improve!