Chapter VI
The jungles of Arconar never slept.
And between the heat, humidity, and constant croaking, buzzing, and cawing, Sweetie Belle was sure she’d never sleep again either.
Oraban found a strip of cloth that served as the worst hammock ever but considering that her friends probably had it worse off, she wasn’t going to complain.
They were alive, she decided. Alive and out there, somewhere, in this wide, vast galaxy. She was sure they were alive, even if Oraban said that almost every creature in the universe would kill them on sight.
They were alive.
They had to be.
She stared up into the canopy with her large, sad, green eyes, wishing that she could see the stars. She had snuck a single glimpse at the night sky once on Arconar, and found herself searching wildly for familiar stars once more.
Oraban told her she would find none. Each planet has its own sky, their own stars, suns, and moons. The Sky would be as unfamiliar to her as the jungles themselves.
Sweetie Belle didn’t like that.
“Belle,” a voice said into her mind, and she sat up in her hammock to see Oraban, having returned from his hunt with his kill on his shoulder. “It is time to eat.”
She nodded, staring at the carcass of something that looked a lot like a deer, before asking. “Can’t you...clean it before you come to camp?” she asked, detesting the word “clean” in that context.
The meat had taken some getting used to, but it was better than starving, so she took it. Her real issue came with the source, her stomach turning whenever she saw the body of a once noble creature hanging limply from his shoulder.
Oraban shook his head. “If you are to survive in this world, you must grow accustomed to the sight of blood.”
“I am not afraid of blood,” Sweetie Belle said.
“No, but you will not take death, and more often than not, they go together in this world. Now, sit, watch, or do not eat.”
She sat, perched on her hammock for a moment or two longer, before conceding and leaping down onto the large branch which Oraban had situated himself on.
He said nothing, but nodded, before taking out a large knife.
Sweetie Belle took a deep breath, and gulped as the Eldar went to work, skinning the creature and beginning to cut the meat.
Organs were removed, and arteries removed, leaving only bloody, red, clean meat to eat.
Sweetie Belle gulped again, feeling her stomach pit and her lunch try to escape. She really didn’t want to watch this. Looking up at the Eldar, she then did the only thing she could to keep her lunch down, she changed the subject. “So...why don’t you ever talk to me?”
“What do you mean?” Oraban asked, confused.
“Like, with your voice. All you do is talk with your mind, it’s kind of creepy.”
Oraban looked up at her. “You’ve never had someone speak into your mind?”
“No! Again, it’s creepy.”
“Hm...odd. I could have sworn you were a psychic creature.”
“A what?”
“Nevermind. Your kind has not yet learned yet how to properly use your talents. Would you prefer if I spoke with my voice?”
“Yes! Please! Why wouldn’t you?”
“It’s quieter,” he said simply.
Sweetie Belle blinked and sighed. They went quiet again as the Ranger continued his work, cutting up the meat and setting it aside.
“Where do you come from?” Sweetie Belle asked, trying to get her mind off of the death in front of her.
“My home is Craftworld Alaitoc,” he said, simply.
“What’s a craftworld?” she asked.
He looked up at her, pausing as he regarded the small unicorn. He blinked, before shrugging and continuing on with his work. “I’m sorry, I’ve never had someone ask me that...a craftworld is a planet of sorts. It is a massive ship, created by my people to keep us safe.”
“And why aren’t you there now?” She asked.
Oraban stopped once more, and this time set his knife aside. “That...is complicated…”
“Is it?”
He nodded.
“Well...we’re not really going anywhere…”
Oraban smiled behind his mask. “I suppose not.” He stabbed his knife into the carcass and gave Sweetie Belle a long, hard look with his brilliant, vibrant eyes. “Tell me, what do you know of the forces of Chaos?”
“Um...nothing?”
Oraban nodded. “Alright...well, all of this galaxy's problems start with a creature of Chaos. She is…” he paused, and checked over her shoulder. “Her name is She Who Thirsts.”
He said those words quietly, and whispered them with a hint of fear hiding in his voice.
“She who thirsts?” Sweetie Belle asked.
Oraban nodded. “She...she was born from our own decadence, greed, and lust, and at her birth, she destroyed us. Our Homeworld was destroyed and our gods were killed, all at the hands of She Who Thirsts, or Slaanesh as the mon-keigh call it. She then brought together the other gods of Chaos and woke them. Together, they have spread their taint across the galaxy, and rule in the own realms of the Warp. Even now, she sits and waits, eager to consume any soul of the Eldar that wanders too close to her, and we dare not think of that fate.
“We do everything we can to avoid her in two ways,” Oraban said, as he reached under his armor, and pulled out a small amulet with a tiny blue stone. “The first is through Spirit Stones, which absorb our souls the moment we die to keep them from entering the Warp, and away from her. The other is the Paths of the Eldar.”
“The paths?” Sweetie asked.
Oraban nodded. “She Who Thirsts feeds off of the emotions of the Eldar, and while we try to keep them in check, sometimes there are times when we cannot contain ourselves. So the Paths were created, ways to walk through our lives to keep the extremes in check. There are the Paths of Awakening, the Mariner, Command, Healer, Artisan, the list goes on, and they all ask that you die to the self that walked the previous path, and walk this new one as though you were a child with no previous experience and no knowledge of anything that came before.
“Now...Alaitoc, my home, is especially strict concerning the Paths. A servant who was once a healer cannot use what he knew to stabilize a friend so that the Healers can arrive in time without being ‘corrected’ by the Council for fear of bringing that beast down upon our heads.
“So I joined the path of the Outcast,” Oraban said. “I can act as I need without having to worry about those back home, and they do not need to worry about me corrupting those around me, and bringing the end of the craftworld to us. I am not there, because I want some freedom, even if it means letting my soul sit before our enemy, bare to her sight, but out of her reach.”
Sweetie Belle blinked.
Oraban smirked. “I told you it was complicated.”
“So...you’ve stopped walking the paths by walking a different path?” Sweetie asked.
“You never stop walking the paths,” the Ranger said, going back to the carcass. “Once you stop walking, then you are truly vulnerable to the Prince of Pleasure, and there is very little you can do to save yourself.”
“Prince of Pleasure?” Sweetie asked.
“Yes, She Who—”
“No, no, I get it. But why is She called the Prince of Pleasure if she’s so bad?”
Oraban blinked.
Sweetie waited.
He waited a moment longer.
“Well?”
“H-how old are you, Sweetie Belle?”
“I’m ten.”
The ranger nodded. “And how old do you need to be in order to be considered an adult?”
“Well, Rarity said it was 18. She had a really big birthday that year.”
Oraban nodded. “I’ll explain then.”
Sweetie Belle blinked. “What? But—”
“No more. It is time to eat. After that, we move,” he said.
Sweetie Belle grumbled as Oraban lit a small stove and began to cook the meat. “It’s always ‘when you’re older.’ Even in a completely new galaxy…”
---=][=---
Oraban sat in the tree he had picked for the night, cradling his long rifle in his lap as his sharp eyes surveyed the canopy around them.
He said nothing, nor did he move as he watched the world around him.
Around him, there was nothing but noise, the insects, amphibians, reptiles, and birds that all hunted in the night. Yet still the loudest thing of them all was the snoring filly hanging in the hammock next to him.
He turned to face her once more, curious about the small creature that hung asleep beside him. She was a psychic creature of sorts, even if she didn’t know it. Her abilities were there, they were obvious, she even had a touch of something else entirely behind her, and it was as strong as a few Seers he had known when he had walked that path all those years ago.
Yet despite this, despite how strong with the Warp she was, she seemed unaffected.
Opening oneself to the Warp was always a dangerous thing. It could swallow you whole just as soon as obey you, and even when it did obey, it’s power was strong enough to rip through some of the most powerful materials in the galaxy.
Yet the daemons of the Warp simply let her pass by.
What’s more, she wandered into the Dark parts of the forest. They were the areas that Chaos had tainted with its touch, twisted by Tzeentch, the schemer of schemes within schemes, and made hungry by She Who Thirsts. Yet, even still, she had barely been affected and had recovered almost instantly.
She rolled in her hammock, muttering worriedly to herself.
Dreams, he was sure. Nightmares probably.
It would be easy, to look into her mind. He had learned how during his time as a Seer, and could probably even look without her even noticing.
But he dared not. He did not dare commune with the Warp while exposed to Slaanesh as he was. He might as well give her an embroidered napkin to clean her lips after she consumed him.
So he listened, watched, and waited.
“S-s-Scootaloo...App-Applebloom…”
Oraban sighed.
Poor creature. Her suffering had probably just begun.
---=][=---
The Eldar moved through the jungle forest, perfectly silent.
Sweetie Belle rode in his belt pouch, yawning in the early morning light.
Oraban held his rifle up, and ready, checking the optical pan-spectral sights every few steps for a little extra security.
They moved slowly, the ranger hopping from branch to branch, as they made their way through the jungle.
Sweetie sat, sleepy from waking so early as well as bored from having nothing to do but sit in a bag. She sighed, before looking up at the Ranger. “Hey, Oraban?”
“Quiet,” he said in her mind.
“But I have a question!” she said.
“And I do not want to get eaten,” he told her.
“So what am I gonna do then?” she whined.
Oraban rolled his eyes. “You are aware that I can read your mind, yes?”
Sweetie blinked. “Um...no, I wasn’t…”
“Just surface thoughts, and you can shut me out fairly easily. But I can read it.”
Sweetie Belle blinked once more before her face screwed up in concentration. “Can you hear this?”
“Yes, I can hear you.”
“Cool!”
“Quiet.” He ordered firmly.
“Oh...sorry…” she thought.
Oraban read the passive thought without much trouble and felt the sincerity behind it as well. Still, she needed to learn.
A ranger lived or died by silence.
“What is your question. Quietly.”
She nodded. “Well...why are you here?”
The Eldar furrowed his brow. “I do not understand your question.”
“Well, I know why you aren’t at Altioc.”
“Alaitoc,” Oraban corrected.
“But why are you here? Aren’t there other places you could be?”
Oraban paused. “That is a difficult question to answer, Little Belle.”
“Is it?”
The ranger nodded. “I cannot tell you everything. There are too many secrets on this planet, and this is not the right time for you to learn this one.”
“Oh,” came the disappointing thought from Sweetie Belle.
“Here is what I can tell you,” Oraban said as he came around another tree trunk. “My people were on this planet eons ago. Yet, we had to retreat, leaving this place alone for centuries. In our absence, the humans, the mon-keigh, took our planet from us, not knowing what they did.
“So, when we returned and found our planet infested, they had already called it home. So they saw us invade, and called for their Adeptus Astartes for aid. The ones called the Ultramarines, and they fought us fiercely. An alliance of the craftworlds could not keep us on the planet, and we had to flee.
“Yet we could not. Not fully. For there is something on this planet that we dared not lose. So my craftworld, Alaitoc, said we would watch this world, protecting a secret which we have hidden from the mon-keigh for more than a century. So I am here, to guard it above all else.”
Sweetie Belle sat in the pouch, silent for a long time. “W-what is it?”
Oraban shook his head. “I cannot tell you. Not yet. One day you may see it, but not now.”
Sweetie Belle nodded. That, at least, gave her something to think about.
---=][=---
Sweetie woke with a start, having drifted to sleep in the pack somehow.
Immediately, Oraban spoke into her mind. “Stay quiet. There are mon-keigh are here.”
She sat up, searching for the humans that had the ranger on high alert.
Oraban already had his long rifle out, the small arm in front of the trigger whirring as it steadied his aim perfectly.
Sweetie found them, following the barrel of the rifle until she spotted the small hunting party.
Three men poked through the undergrowth, using their long, bronze spears and their short bronze axes to check the muddy ground beneath the all-encompassing plant life. They were talking to themselves, but they were far out of earshot for Sweetie Belle to hear.
“W-what are they doing?” she asked.
“Searching,” Oraban answered.
“For what?”
“It doesn’t matter. If they are searching for anything, they may find that which needs to be kept safe. They must die.”
“What?!” Sweetie mentally cried, barely catching herself from screaming.
“I cannot risk discovery. They will have to die.”
“B-but-but-but what if they’re just hunting?!”
Oraban shook his head. “When these mon-keigh hunt, they use the branches. These are searching for something.”
“Well, what if they’re not searching for...whatever that thing is?”
“It matters not. This cannot risk discovery. My people. All of my people, our very existence, needs this to remain secret. If these mon-keigh find it, they could bring war to our very homes. We would not survive. I must kill them. There is no other choice.”
Sweetie Belle looked up at him, horrified. “But...but…”
He looked away from his scope to stare her in the eyes. “It’s not my choice, Sweetie Belle. It is what must be. The mon-keigh are dangerous creatures, wild and barbaric. There is good in them, but it cannot be trusted. And when that is gone, there is only their hate and need to destroy.
“They must die, so that we may live.”
Sweetie Belle looked up at him, her eyes wide and confused.
But...but they didn’t need to die…They could be scared away.
“For how long? They might come back, with more of them.”
They...they could…
He could…
But…
“They...they don’t need to die…”
Oraban sighed, and shook his head, looking back to his scope.
There was a quiet snap-oom, and the first human went down. A perfect shot to the neck, tearing his throat open with a beam of pure, focused light.
The others were soon to follow.
---=][=---
Chief Shu looked out into the forest from the door of her home.
The sun was setting behind her, and the night was about to begin.
The party she had sent out was still out there somewhere.
Lahri, her husband was with them.
He had promised to be back by nightfall.
She had hated this decision. But the high-chief had told them that they needed to find more tribute to offer to the God-Emperor, or they would have to offer soldiers.
Soldiers, or slaves.
Shu’s tribe was too small. She did not have the warriors to meet the High Chief's demands. Her entire tribe would have to be taken away and trapped into one of the massive sky-ships of the Emperor if they did not offer something.
And so Lahri made the offer. He and his best hunters would go out and search for more metal. If they found it, then the tribe was saved.
If not…
He promised he would be back by nightfall.
Shu kept her eyes to the jungles, hoping, praying to the Emperor, and her house gods for his safe return.
The sun was getting closer and closer to the horizon.
Still no sign of him.
She didn’t want him to go. She could take being in one of the sky-ships as long as her husband was with her, but...but…
The sun was starting to disappear behind the trees.
Please...please Emperor…
And then the sun slipped away.
Shu stood out in front of her door until midnight that night.
But Lahri never came home.
---=][=---
“Blessed are the Gun Makers.”—Imperial Thought of the Day.
Alright, guys...there you go!
“So what’s next?”
More Eldar!
“Really?”
Yup! But it’s going to be a little more...interesting next time.
“Oh?”
Yup, let’s just say, little Sweetie is going to find the Eldar relic.
“Ok...that sounds...like you have something planned.”
I most certainly do.
“Alright, so what’s after that?”
Well, we’re going to find out what Scoots has been up to this whole time.
“Yay! More ork!”
Yup, but until then, you’re going to have to deal with the Eldar.
“Alright, can do, captarooni!”
We’ll see you all next time guys.
“Bye!”
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This has certainly been an interesting ride so far. Even if the races have been a bit OOC to force them to spare the ponies, it has been minor to ignore able issue. You have still managed to show how different the groups are while also hinting that there is still more to explore under the surface.
6416777
I tried to minimize the OOCness as much as possible, but yeah, it is still pretty hard.
*blinks*
...
Sweetie Belle is without a doubt the cutest pocket pony there is.
Oh great. Moar spehss elves... I'm only sticking around for the grimdark comedy act that are the Orks (and their pet
chickenfilly), and the awesomeness that is the EMPRAH (and his blessed Space Marineapplebuttfilly).And the cuteness of Sweetie Belle...
6416989
In this case the slight OOC is inevitable. Space Marines butcher any non-humans they meet without question (damn zealots), unless given hell of good reason before hand. Orks aren't known for their hospitality and Eldars just don't care about others. Each of the crusaders had the extreme luck of running into some of exceptions of their own kinds.
6417343
Yeah, that's ultimately why I picked the Blood Ravens. They walk the heresy line a little too close than they should, and have some ridiculous curiosity, between the two, it makes a good case for keeping her alive long enough for them to start thinking.
The Eldar, Oraban sees Sweetie Belle as a lost puppy. He takes pity on her, and that'll eventually mean something.
The orks...I don't know...it was funny?
timodonnell.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/Heresy-stamp.jpg
By the Order of the Holy Inquisition, Ordo hereticus, this heretical fic is ordered to be purged by Exterminatus!
May Imperial Justice account in all Balance. The Emperor Protects
-Inquisitor Techpriest eh
-Ordo Hereticus
Horse are extremely weak for there size, the only reason it can kill is because they put 1000 pounds of weight behind the kick, AB is not 1000 pounds and she is a horse. She is extremely cowardly as well. And to top it all off she is a xeno, how in the hell do you crack bullet proof bones with a kick from a tiny weak ass horse even if it had upgrades, the human she kicked has the same upgrades, so the only thing she should be allowed to kick across a room, by logic, is a fucking Tau.
6417480
What does being a xeno, or being cowardly have to do with her damage output? The rest of comment does make sense, but truth be told, there will be some thing revealed in the next chapter which kinda help her.
6417478
These comments, on the other hand, while perfectly appropriate, make it hard for me to know whether or not you like the story...
6417540 I dislike the story. Your writing is good but a XENO becoming a space marine? Yeah thats grounds for heresy and wouldn't work. The Imperial Creed is the destruction of xenos but even xenos can work together.
Applebloom is a female, No Y chromosome. The geneseed will kill her. The geneseed needs the Y chromosome in a body to keep the marine alive.
Elder adopting sweety belle? Unlikely to the extreme. As a pet maybe but as s daughter? No. Considering that Eldar believe all other races are Inferior to them doesn't help.
Orks adopting Scootaloo? NO! Orks kill everything that isn't Orky. Even then they will kill other Orks for stupid shit.
6417577
Fair enough.
Yes, the geneseed needs the y chromosome. The next chapter actually addresses this.
The Blood Ravens do a lot of questionably heretical things, and their greatest weakness is their curiosity.
The ranger has adopted her as a pet. She's not his daughter by any means.
Scoots fighting spirit was ork-y enough for Nabrot, who is a deathskull, and since they are seen as looters first, fighters second, I figured it would work.
And that's all my justification. That's it. If that's not enough for you, I understand. I'm sorry.
6417431
And in all that the Orks have the best and most believable reason.
6417540 It's IoM what do you mean it doesn't matter if shes a Xeno. Also, you don't become an adeptus astartes by being cowardly. And, once again, it's the IoM. They are so prejudiced.
6418353
I'm not saying that being a xeno doesn't matter, I asked you why her being a xeno meant she didn't hit as hard. However, due to your confusion, I assume that's not what you were saying.
In short, yes, I'm aware this wouldn't really work. That's why I searched to find their best chances to live, i.e. the Blood Ravens.
Furthermore, she's not cowardly, she's hesitant. Baltus can tell the difference.
6417577
Don't forget, the Gene seed was mutated. They said that there was a very tiny chance of survival.
6417595 They don't do "Heretical" things. They do things that warrant suspicion but not heretical thtings.
The eldar are somewhat believable but they don't need the extra mouth to feed.
The Orks don't respect spirit to fight, they respect capability and strength as given that the Orks respect a commissar from armageddon for ripping the arms off of a warboss.
6421180 Mutated Geneseed wouldn't be used unless it had a higher survival rate and wasn't heretical. 9/10 mutations are purged from GeneSeed because of heretical influences.
6421280
Right, and I gave the Blood Ravens enough room to rationalize the heresy away, and picked an Ork tribe that was considered kinda un-ork-y for what I was going to do.
Look, I'm not saying that things will turn out this way under these circumstances. All I was doing was finding their greatest chance of survival, and fudging the dice rolls to make it work.
It's not perfect, I admit it. I admit it openly, but if this were to happen, and if they were going to survive, this is how I see it happening.
6421285
It's the Blood Ravens. They did it for knowledge. They are also borderline heretical to begin with
In other words, they did it for science
6421511 Science is heresy.
6421532 It's the Blood Ravens. As I recall, and I quote: "Knowledge is Power. Guard it well."
They tend to do stuff like this just to know if it could work.
Damn you,this story is awesome. For the love of khorne, write faster!
Inb4 the relic's an ancient webgate
That made me grin like a fool.