• Published 14th Jul 2015
  • 4,012 Views, 382 Comments

The Marks of War - DungeonMiner



A Warhammer 40k Xover. In the nightmare future of the 41st millennium, there is only war. For three small fillies who knew only peace, this is a terrifying change. But there is hope for them. They can survive. But the Marks of War will change them.

  • ...
18
 382
 4,012

Chapter XXVIII

On all sides of the crater, the armies began to gather.

The Eldar forces, beaten from yesterday, had gathered in somber silence, as though this were their last day. They’re numbers were far lower than the previous day, but they were here, ready to face the invaders.

Farseer Elahina looked to the sky, watching the clouds roll in above her. The omens of today did not promise good things, and while the coming events were too close for her sight, she could tell that this coming battle would not turn in the Craftworld’s favor. She sighed, hoping that at least, a few souls would escape the devastation today.

And then, something began to happen. An air of pain, sadness and depression began to surround her, and her hands began to shake as the source began to get closer. The faint ringing of a small bell sounded behind her, and it took all her might not to psychically scream as whatever presence was behind drove nails into her mind. “You have done well, Farseer,” a masculine voice said behind her.

She turned, a found herself staring at a male figure, tall, athletic, and lithe. He was dressed in a long, black, hooded cloak, with huge, almost comically-oversized lapels, decorated in a checkerboard pattern of cyan and magenta. At his waist was a large belt of magenta cloth, and at it’s center, a hand-sized red gem that reflected the scene about her. The black and gold buttons that held his cloak in place, left the coat open at the legs, where the same checkerboard pattern decorated his legs. His feet were encased in large, pointed shoes, the points curling up on themselves like a jester’s. Around his ankle was a golden band, and from that hung a small golden bell, shaped like a laughing face.

The band alone would have marked this Eldar as a Harlequin, a servant of the Eldar Laughing God, Cegorach. The brightly-garbed Eldar were beyond reproach, and the kings and Farseers of the Craftworlds and Exodites listened when they spoke. Even their dark cousins and the Mon’Keigh listened to the Harlequins, even allowing them to perform their elaborate and artful plays on their own planets.

But all that passed by the wayside as soon as she saw the horned, daemonic mask that adorned his face.

“You’ve done exactly as I asked, Elahina,” he said.

She swallowed as she saw the mask. The thing that marked the figure before her as a Solitaire. They were the loners of the Harlequins, but were arguably the most powerful among them. Of all Harlequins, only a Solitare could play the part of Slaanesh in their performances, as any others who tried lost their minds and fell into an insanity most vile.

“I-I have, Solitare,” she said, trying to recover her resolve. “The one known as Sweetie Belle has left for the Infinity Gate, as you asked.”

He nodded. “Yes, the Laughing God has seen, and he approves of your service,” he said, before moving, dancing before her in soft, smooth, gentle movements.

Elahina could not help but glance at the weapon attached to his forearm. The long tube known literally as “the kiss of doom” in the Eldar tongue glinted in the morning light.

“You have done well,” he said, his voice musical, yet even behind the stoic mask he wore, “and I would have you know that plans in plans have been set in motion.”

Elahina tried her best to bite back a bitter thought, yet even still, an aggressive tone leaked from her voice. “Will one of these plans save our people?”

The Solitaire regarded her for a moment, and the Farseer once more found herself unnerved by his mask.

It was as though the face of She Who Thirsts himself was staring into her soul.

Staring most hungrily.

“All you need know, Farseer,” he said, before his dance took him further and further away, “is that you need to listen to the voices on the field.”

“The voices on the field?” she asked confused, turning back to crater. “What do you mean by—”

But the Solitaire was gone, leaving only shadow and the morning fog where he once stood.

The Farseer blinked, before sighing. “Somehow, I can’t help but think that this is how the Mon’Keigh feel when we speak to them.”

---=][=---

Morning was rising on the Blood Raven’s camp, and Gabriel Angelos was ready for it.

The camp was already abuzz with activity as Space Marines prepared boxes of ammo and readied vehicles for today’s battle.

Gabriel took it all in with an expert eye, watching his brothers move while he walked towards the Land Raider.

The Litany of Fury would arrive in orbit today, and Apple Bloom’s trap would spring. With drop pods falling behind the Chaos, Eldar, and Ork lines, their victory would be all but secured. It would be a difficult fight against the sheer numbers of the enemy, but it could be done.

Still, it was a shame that Apple Bloom would not be here to watch her plan unfold.

He sighed, before he checked the Daemonhammer in his hand, a gift from a now-passed Inquisitor, gained the same day Isador was offered the Emperor’s peace. He gripped it in his hand, before grabbing the massive rungs of the Land Raider, and climbed up onto the chassis of the massive tank.

“Brothers!” he cried, getting the attention of the Space Marines around him. “The time has come!” he yelled.

The Blood Ravens quickly collected into their squads, forming ranks and files of super soldiers.

“Come, my brothers!” he yelled from atop the land raider. “It is time! For the Emperor!”

---=][=---

The ork were moving quickly.

Apple Bloom couldn’t help but notice that they were incredibly eager to move Northward towards the crater, so eagerly, in fact that moving in her mighty power armor went unnoticed by them.

Scootaloo was ahead of them, ducked down behind a large chunk of metal that probably passed as a wall, by ork standards. “‘Ang on,” she said, holding out her hoof behind her. “Not yet.”

“I am beginning to wonder if we will move at all,” Apple Bloom muttered.

“Oi, do you want ta lead?” Scootaloo asked. “Because unless you can speak ork, I don’t fink any of them will listen.”

“They probably wouldn’t listen anyways…” Sweetie said.

If Apple Bloom heard her, she didn’t act on it. “Oh yes, because grunting with a lisp is so difficult to master. How on earth would I ever learn to speak orkish?”

“You can stuff yer gob,” Scootaloo growled. “Or I can stuff it for ya.”

“The two of you need to stop it!” Sweetie Belle hissed. “We’re not here to make noise, we’re here to help defeat Chaos, and maybe save everyone who saved our lives in the process! Now can you both be quiet for the next thirty minutes so we can help them?”

Apple Bloom sighed, looking to the sky, before she spoke. “Very well, silence it is,” she said.

“And can you take your helmet off?” Sweetie asked. “I’m sick of staring at a mask of metal.”

Apple Bloom regarded her for a moment, before her mechadendrites slowly grabbed her helmet, removing it. “I suppose I can follow the tradition today,” she said, before connecting it to her belt. “I will need to move closer, now,” she said, “I will not have access to the Vox arrays without it.”

“Well, thank you, anyways,” Sweetie said nodding.

“If you two are done,” Scootaloo said, before waving them forward. “Da coast is clear.”

The three ponies ran through the now abandoned camp, Scootaloo leading the way. “Now there should be some trukks around here.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Apple Bloom whispered. “We’re going to blow up even before we get there.”

“Apple Bloom,” Sweetie warned.

“Have you seen a trukk?” the Space Marine whispered back. “It’s a miracle they don’t shake themselves apart on the road!”

“‘Ere we go!” Scootaloo called, before they found themselves before a battle-damaged trukk. The bed was still in one piece, but beyond that, there was little keeping it on its wheels. The entire front end of the trukk was missing, no driver’s seat, no engine, nothing but a hook of twisted metal. “This should be just fine!” Scootaloo said.

Apple Bloom blinked. “S-Scootaloo,” she began looking at the wreckage that would soon be their transport. “I know you orks are used to driving junk, but I don’t think even you could drive this.”

Scootaloo smiled, before saying. “Just wait ‘ere. Oi’ll be roight back.”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle looked at each other, not perfectly confident in her sudden declaration, but they waited nonetheless. When the sound of a chugging engine and belching smoke began to sound and get closer, however, they both were surprised to see a massive red bike rolling up next to them. Scootaloo smiled as she sat on the bike’s seat, before saying with a toothy grin. “Who said anyfin’ about drivin’ da trukk?”

---=][=---

The Alpha Legionnaires were almost gone, most having killed themselves for sacrifice after sacrifice to this daemon named Sindri. Their dedication to this cause was impressive.

And terrifying.

In his thousand years of service to the Prince of Pleasure, Vulek the Debaucher had never seen anything like this. He had witnessed cultists, the small, puny things slaughter themselves before, but a Marine? They were a cut above these simple men, and yet at a word they threw their lives away.

And now, a Daemon Prince was forming.

So far, it was only his upper body, and that was more than enough for Vulek to be unnerved.

In one hand, he held a massive, daemonic blade, while the other was a massive set of claws, twisted by magics that were beyond the Debaucher’s understanding. The eight-pointed star of Chaos Undivided was embossed on every surface, save his face, which was a massive red welt on all reality.

“My vengeance is near!” Sindri roared. “The Ravens will curse the days of their birth, and their mothers will weep until the Corpse Emperor is drowned in tears and blood!”

“It is almost time!” Kraagan laughed. “Almost time!”

Vulek slowly began to back away from the courtyard, trying to avoid the gaze of the daemon that was slowly forming before him. Something about this wasn’t right. This daemon Prince was bought with the lives of Alpha Legionnaires, and the Prince was a Legionnaire himself. Everything about that was sounding off warning bells in his head. This was too greatly in the Legionnaire’s favor, and every servant of Chaos knew you did not trust a Legionnaire.

He continued to back away, keeping his face towards the daemon, before finally stepping into the keep of the Eldar fortress.

He suppressed a shiver, before cursing himself. What was he? A Corpse Worshipping fool? No! He was a Captain of the Emperor’s Children! He had committed horrors that would send these Legionnaires running terrified. He was beyond this petty fear he felt.

Which is why he wasn’t going back into the courtyard.

“Sir?” A Chaos marine asked behind him, drugged up by the sound of his voice.

Vulek growled, partly for the anger at the weakness in his bones, partly for the impotence of his own men. “Prepare the Soulgrinders! We march!”

“What of the Legionnaires?” the Emperor’s Child asked.

“Forget them!” Vulek roared. “We march now!”

---=][=---

The world shot past Sweetie Belle as she sat in the back of the trukk, rattling beside the surprisingly still Apple Bloom. Button hung onto her hair, trying just as desperately to stay in the makeshift wagon as she was. It took all she had to stay put, all the while, holding onto Oraban’s rifle. “Are you sure this is safe?” she asked as she felt the bed of the trukk bounce on its suspension and heard at least one unseen piece of machinery snap.

“It’s ork machinery,” Apple Bloom said. “None of it is safe.”

Scootaloo’s bike squealed as it ran up a ramp, flying through the air and trailing smoke and roaring through the trees like it was some kind of dragon.

“I don’t know if I can hold on!” she said, before the trukk bounced upon landing.

Apple Bloom didn’t look at her, but a mechadendrite did shoot out, and grabbed her by one of the growths emerging from her spine. “I can,” she yelled back.

Scootaloo suddenly pointed westward. “Look, there’s da Waaagh!” she yelled, and both ponies looked over to see a wave of ork, all running and screaming as they headed north.

“They’re going to outpace us!” Sweetie yelled.

“Like zoggin’ ‘ell they will!” Scoots growled, before her bike shot forward once more.

Sweetie Belle yelped as she bounced in the wagon bed, only for Apple Bloom’s strong, mechanical mechadendrite to grab her. “Don’t go running out on me now, Sweetie Belle,” she said. “After all the trouble you put me through, you best stick with me.”

Sweetie smiled. “I will do what I can.”

---=][=---

Lazarus cursed as he sat behind cover. The Legionnaires were keeping them pinned. So far, they had suffered no casualties, but they could not stand staying still for so long, not when the Chapter Master needed to be warned.

“Any confirmed hits?” Lazarus asked.

“Negative, Librarian!” Israfiel’s robotic voice answered.

Lazarus cursed again. “We need to go!” he roared.

“Shall we make a push for the crater?” Ramiel asked.

“Watch for an opening, but do not move unless it is guaranteed.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Came the answer.

And then something most strange happened.

The bolter fire stopped.

There was silence.

“What’s happened?” Karlon asked.

“They ceased fire?” Coberos repeated.

“They must have,” Ramiel agreed.

“But why?” Israfiel asked.

Lazarus silenced them. “We cannot spend too much time questioning it. It could be a trap, but we must move forward.”

Coberous nodded. “Understood, Librarian, let’s move out.”

---=][=---

The crater was surrounded on all sides. A severely depleted Chaos army stood to the North, while the armies of the Space Marines, Eldar and ork stood to the East, South and West, respectively.

They were ready.

They would all finish what they had begun the day before.

Gabriel’s Land Raider pulled forward, as did Grimtrasha and Farseer Elahina. The only leader that did not step forward was Vulek, who merely waited from the lip of the crater. Gabriel, however, stood proud, before raising his hammer. “We will not be found wanting!” he roared, and the Space Marines behind him all roared in answer.

Not to be outdone, the orks roared, and the single word “Waaagh!” echoed across the crater, loud and proud.

The Eldar, being a more refined race, said nothing, but the hum of Wave Serpent Grav tanks and warp-weapons sounded as they began to power up and ready for the battle.

The forces of Chaos writhed as the Emperor’s Children stood at the ready, and the Noise Marines let their sonic weapons wail in anticipation.

The Land Raider began to move forward, as did Grimtrasha and Elahina, with their own soldiers following behind.

All eyes were on them as the world went to war.

And then the sound of a rumbling motor cut the air, as did the sound of a feminine voice screaming with joy.

A bike, pulling a shoddy, makeshift wagon shot through out of the forest, from the spaces between the armies, and flew over the crater lip. It landed, jostling wildly as it hit the dirt. “Scootaloo!” A voice yelled as the bike flew down the hillside. “I know you were raised by orks, but do you have to drive like them?”

A laugh was the only response as the the bike continued to fly down the crater, all eyes on them. The bike then roared as it began turning westward. Apple Bloom stood in the wagon, her magnetic soles holding her to the bed of the trukk, mechadendrite still holding onto Sweetie Belle, before yelling. “This is your stop, Sweetie Belle!” she yelled, before she threw the unicorn out of the trukk.

Sweetie flew up, soaring through the air, before her growths became large, wraithbone legs, holding her in the air as she moved forward like a spider.

The bike screeched and turned, kicking up dirt as the bike tore towards the Astares. “Your stop’s next!” Scootaloo roared.

Apple Bloom nodded. “I got it. Are you sure you know how to get orks to fight Chaos?”

Scootaloo smiled from her seat. “You just worry ‘bout da Emperor’s Boyz. I can get da Waaagh! movin’!”

Apple Bloom nodded, before leaping out of the trukk.

---=][=---

Sweetie Belle ran up towards the Eldar forces, moving as fast as her wraithbone legs could carry her.

Elahina watched her, blinking all the way.

“Farseer! Farseer!” Sweetie Belle cried. “Farseer! The forces of Chaos are trying to bring forth a Daemon Prince!”

The Eldar behind the Farseer began to gasp, and a wave of worry passed through the army, followed by another wave of incredulous questioning and suspicion.

Sweetie felt it all, before she yelled back in her defense. “Oraban the ranger heard the enemy say it. They want to raise a Daemon Prince, and they will turn it against all of us! We have to face the forces of Chaos, and we must do it together!”

Elahina blinked, but she could feel the psychic tide behind her. The scandalized, confused, and horrified wave of a single word. “Together?”

“We need to face the enemy! All of us! Ork, Space Marine, and Eldar! We must!”

Elahina stared down at little Sweetie, and could only wonder.

---=][=---

Apple Bloom landed on the ground, crushing any pebbles beneath her, before running towards her brothers.

Gabriel watched her run forward, confusion on his face.

“Brothers!” she cried. “Brothers! I have news!”

The Astartes stared on.

“Brothers, the archenemy is bringing forth a Daemon Prince to their aid. They mean to destroy us all!”

The Space Marines said nothing, and Gabriel watched her with a curious eye.

“My old friends are doing what they can to convince the xenos to turn their attention to the heretics that wish to face us, and I only ask that you leave them alive long enough to deal with our enemy!”

Gabriel stared down at her from the Land Raider, before a crackling in his ear suddenly sounded. “Chapter Master! This is Librarian Lazarus! We have news!”

---=][=---

Scootaloo and her bike pulled up before Grimtrasha and the orks, and smiled big and wide.

“Whatcha’ doing, Shootaloota?” Grimtrasha asked.

“Came ta ask ya da same fing,” she said, still smiling wide.

“Oi’m gonna foight!” Grimtrasha growled. “What are yous doin’?”

Scootaloo smiled, before she leapt up, flapping her wings, until she landed on the high headrest of her seat. “Oi! Yous gits!” she yelled into the Waaagh!

“What?” came the answer.

“Da Chaos boyz got’s betta loot!”

There was silence across the Waaagh! Silence for only a second.

“Waaaaaaaaagh!” they roared, before every single ork, a Deathskull to his core, began charging to the North, running for Chaos.

Scootaloo smiled, before she slid back down into her seat, and gunning the engine.

---=][=---

Gabriel had heard all he needed, between Apple Bloom, and Lazarus he was certain this was the truth.

He spoke into his vox relay, speaking directly to Land Raider. “Prepare to charge the Heretic’s line.”

“Yes, Chapter Master,” came the reply.

Gabriel then began to turn, to face his brothers and lead them into battle, only to hear the battlecry of the ork.

He watched, blinking, as the ork all charged northward, and the strange pony on the bike to pull up, waiting on Apple Bloom.

Gabriel blinked again, before turning to the Blood Ravens. “Well, brothers? Are you going to let the ork take all the glory?”

Apple Bloom smiled, before leaping back into trukk, bolter at the ready.

“We will not be found wanting!”

---=][=---

Elahina suddenly understood.

These were the voices on the field, and she had to listen.

She knew that, but the others? All of them? Was there anyway to convince them?

Then the orks charged.

Then the Space Marines.

Only the Eldar had not moved.

The Farseer turned.

“Well?” she asked them, a psychic message that rippled through the army. “Are we going to let the younger species fight our enemy while we sit by the wayside?”

The ork bike pulled up, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom waiting. “Sweetie, it’s time to go!” Scootaloo yelled.

Sweetie Belle looked between the two.

And Elahina spoke to her. “Go, Sweetie Belle. We will follow. Even if I must shame the entire Craftworld into action, we will follow.”

She smiled, before her wraithbone legs shot her up into the trukk bed. “Floor it, Scoots!”

The bike’s wheels spun crazily, before catching the dirt and sending the bike shooting forward.

And Elahina stared down her army.

Apple Bloom yelled. “Sweetie, anchor yourself here, here and here!” she said, pointing at various points on the bed.

She obeyed, her wraithbone legs pinning her to the trukk.

The Blood Raven then chanced a look back. “Are they coming?”

“You better believe they will!” She said with a smirk.

---=][=---

Vulek watched as the strange little ork vehicle careened into the crater, and could only look on, confused as two strange, four-legged creatures leapt out of the little vehicle, stood before the Eldar and the Space Marines while the bike then ran over to the ork.

It seemed so strange.

What were they? What were they saying? Why hadn’t they been shot yet?

“Sir, your orders?” a nearby marine asked.

Vulek just stared. “I…prepare to charge,” he said, eventually.

And then the orks cried.

They charged forward, running into the crater before they began to charge the northern face.

And then the Space Marines roared.

They ran, joining the ork in the climb towards them.

And then came the Eldar, silent, but twice as fast, charging into the fray, and running up towards the Chaos line.

“Sir?!” the chaos marine cried again.

Vulek blinked, before the true horror of what was happening began to set in. “Don’t charge! Shoot them down! Kill them where they stand!”

The roaring of a engine suddenly filled their ears, and the laugh of a crazed maniac filled the air.

Scootaloo’s bike cleared the crater lip, flying into the air.

“We’s gonna have a foight!”

---=][=---

The forces of Chaos were surrounded on all sides.

Ork choppas, Eldar blades, and the whirling Chainswords of the Adeptus Astartes ripped into the ceramite and adamantium of the Chaos armor. Bolters roared, shuriken whistled, and ork bullets exploded for no particular reason. The entire north side was a mass of writhing bodies, and blinding attacks.

Scootaloo’s bike tore through the enemy lines, running over any Chaos marine she could find.

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle stood in the trukk bed, the former, firing her bolter while the latter use Oraban’s long rifle. Her pinpoint, blue shots found the weak points between the armor, while Apple Bloom’s shots tore through armor.

Scootaloo laughed. “Just like the good ole’ days, huh, girls?”

Sweetie Belle took another shot, the blue las bolt slamming into the space between a Noise marine’s helmet and his chestplate, turning his throat into juice. “You and I remember the good ole’ days very differently!” she said.

Apple Bloom fired into the Chaos ranks. “Less talking! More shooting! Scootaloo! Find the captain, and run him over!”

Scootaloo smiled. “Can do!”

---=][=---

“Yes! Yes!” Sindri yelled, his form almost complete. “It is upon us!” he roared.

Kraagan watched as the daemon began to move, tearing at the limits that still kept him in the warp.

“Bear witness to my resurrection!” he roared, breaking free at last. “Let the galaxy burn!”

Kraagan watched as Daemon Prince finally stood free, before raising a single hand.

And with that the remaining Legionnaires slowly backed away.

---=][=---

“A hundred thousand worlds, ten hundred thousand wars. There is no respite, there is nowhere to hide. Across the galaxy there is only war.” —Imperial Thought of the Day


Next time!

"The united front against Chaos!"

Sindri joins the fray!

"All this and more!"

We'll see you then!

"Bye!"