Forged Anew

by Vermillion Prose

Proper Authorization

Hesperos stood immobile, arms extended to his sides, as two of Twilight’s guards scrubbed his armor. Cheap paint and cream filling slopped off and to the ground as the two unicorns aggressively attacked the mess with oversized sponges laden with soapy water. He had recently returned from investigating rumors of disruptive activities in town. Unfortunately, that had placed him in the line of fire for a rather gratuitous prank war. He had a new respect for the ambush tactics of Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash.

Twilight trotted into the room with acute energy in her stride as the cleanup was concluding, polishing cloths restoring his armor to a pristine finish. The guards moved aside and to ready positions on the edges of the room, earning a brief eye roll from the princess for their stubbornly formal behavior.

“Pack your things,” she announced to the room at large. “We’re going on a trip!” She focused back on Hesperos. “The recovery teams found a sealed chamber on your ship still intact. If they read correctly, it’s an armory.” She could not tell from his stance whether he was intrigued, but if the intense glow of the psy-stone in his helm was any indication, that had certainly gotten his attention.

The preparations for their trip to the recovery site were swift. Hesperos had conspicuously collected both sword and gun, one on his hip and the other maglocked to the armored power plant on his back. She found it odd that he brought the gun with him as well, before realizing he may intend to resupply once the armory had been opened. While she was wary of him carrying such dangerous munitions, she also trusted him as a friend, and had he wished anypony harm, he was utterly lethal with the sword alone and had ample opportunity before.

---

The train ride past Dodge Junction was uneventful, and thankful the private car that had been added to the train, despite Twilight’s protests, had afforded them privacy and prevented much of the gawking and nervousness that inevitably greeted Hesperos outside of Ponyville. Their arrival was thankfully a matter of course with little fanfare, though the unavoidable gawking was less in shock or nervousness and far more from curiosity and excitement. In fact, much of it was directed towards the princess and not the spectral armor.

Hesperos watched in satisfaction as Twilight entered her element, fielding multiple discussions with the researchers and recovery personnel as they exchanged information at a blistering pace, academics truly in their element and in the presence of the princess who had become their greatest patron. Hesperos, however, slipped away and inquired about the armory. A nervous stallion not even yet out of university directed him with a shaking hoof towards the largest hull section sitting over the sand dunes outside of camp.

Hesperos arrived after an unhurried march among the scattered wreckage of a strike cruiser he once called home. A couple of Twilight’s guard had caught up to him, having spotted his departure and shadowed him there, only coming out when he had summoned them from hiding in good humor. There was no need for suspicion, and he was grateful for having extra hands, or hooves, to accompany him.

The stallions stayed close to him, illuminating their path with hornlight as he led them into the canted depths of ancient human artifice. After orienting himself, Hesperos took the most direct route to the armory he knew to be in this sector.

The door had nearly imperceptible warping, from both intense heat and violent impact, and he was caught off guard when he noticed the security cogitator still functioned, flickering almost piteously where he brushed away the dust and ash coating the panel. As his gauntlet brushed across the surface, it let out a weak warble as the system recognized Astartes authorizaton and indicators changed shades, an emergency light sputtering above the door preceding a grinding clank as the doors tried and failed to open.

Hesperoes looked to the guards, who were carefully composing themselves. Though their weapons were not drawn, hooves were laid on the pommels of swords, and he could clearly see their tension and unease. He nodded reassuringly before stepping forward, wedging his fingers into the gap in the hatch and preparing to force open the doors. The guards leaned forward apprehensively, grip on weapons tightening.

An actinic pop, brilliant flash, and surge of energy saw all three whirling, weapons whipping up before them in a wall of blades. Twilight gave them a deadpan expression as the couple of researchers accompanying her yelped and cowered. Her guards offered sheepish expressions as they sheathed their weapons, Hesperos returning his own to his hip as well. After a brief explanation of the situation, he returned to the door and set his grip once more.

“Huh. Whatever wards were there are gone with the door cracked like that. I’ll just teleport in!” Hesperos’s gaze whipped around faster than she had ever seen, but her horn was already lit and his protest never voiced as a pair of further pops and flashes placed the alicorn inside the armory. Magenta light filtered out through the crack as she lit her horn. There was a sharp intake of breath.

Twilight’s shaky voice called out faintly through the gap. “H-Hesperos, I need you in here…”

The doors shrieked as the rubricae put all of his unnatural strength into forcing open the doors, the mechanisms shearing and giving their last as the door was forced wide enough for him to slip through, the guards close on his heels. Swords were drawn once more, and far more decisively, as they arrayed themselves next to the princess. The guard stallions faltered as they took in their surroundings, but the rubricae’s grip tightened.

Weapons of unimaginable provenance surrounded them, their functions and purpose lost upon the equines. A small part of Hesperos was pleased so many cases of bolter ammunition survived, and while the plasma weapons would likely be truly dangerous to attempt to wield after such a poor landing, the meltas and flamers should be quite serviceable. Chainswords, combat blades, and a number of other less common implements of battle were spread about a space cramped despite its size. Whatever had not been secured in one of the heavy duty storage racks or pallets had been mercilessly scattered around the room, forming a mess of loose ammunition and broken weapons. Scorch marks indicated where ammunition or fuels had cooked off, and only the absurd resilience of the storage for explosives had prevented their detonation and subsequent loss of such a valuable cache of wargear.

The majority of his attention, however, was fixed upon a form much like his, haphazardly slumped in a corner of the armory. Dark stains marked the deck where blood had pooled and cooked during reentry. Ceramite fragments hung from the abused suit of Aquila-pattern armor. Scorch marks and damage obscured much of the heraldry, but two things were evident.

The armor had once been a rich viridian, and the abused body drew in nigh imperceptible breath.

Comments

[Dipti]

hmm i wonder who the new space marine is?

[verypeeved]

well that took slightly longer than usual. then again, it was slightly longer than usual

[Vermillion Prose]

7025533 The past few weeks have been less than ideal but I did promise more, and this was honestly the biggest obstacle to crest to keep things rolling.

...No I'm not over here wringing my hooves like a villain plotting something, why do you ask?

[Technowolf]

7023691 Judging from the color of his power armor (viridian is blue-green), he's probably Alpha Legion.

[verypeeved]

7025831 camo.derpicdn.net/681cb7e654b82809d0a3804afa298d758dba5e4e?url=https%3A%2F%2F49.media.tumblr.com%2Ff8d306007614d5c2bdddd86fdfbc94e0%2Ftumblr_nna5xeJO681t9sksvo1_400.gif

[FleetlordAvatar]

Things just got interesting people.