Chapter 5. Bombs, Shells and Prayers
Apologies for being a bit late with this chapter. The past three days, the heat has been brutal in my home. I would need both my hands and both feet to count how many times my graphics card has overheated. But now it has cooled down I could finish the chapter. I would give you guys another date for the next chapter, but with how the weathers has been and another full three days work coming up I can’t say. I don’t want to say ‘next Wednesday’ and not be able to meet it because another several days of heat pop up. I’m rambling at this point, read on my ponies!
Blue Blade was talking with what appeared as the dismembered head of Celestia. A closer look reveals it to be a smoky form of Celestia’s head and shoulders.
“We’ve been here a while princess. We’ve seen neither hide nor hair of these so called ‘humans’,” Blue Blade said as he quickly stifled a yawn.
“I’ve received reports of the ‘humans’ massing around Detrot. I can’t figure out why they are doing this. But we need to stop it.”
“Yes your majesty,” he said with a nod.
“Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Anything at all?” she asked curiously.
“Well now that you mention it…”
The operation went off like clockwork. At 7:59 a familiar scene played out. A series of beeps were being listened to at dozens of batteries.
“Code confirmed. We are to begin firing,” the vox operator called out.
“Open fire!” he bellowed.
One hundred and eighty-one pieces of artillery fired in unison.
Unknown to what was happening a mile away, stallions were still trying to wake themselves. A red unicorn just emerged from a dugout. He had a towel over his neck, a tooth brush in his mouth and a small cup hovering next to him. He stifled a yawn as he stepped up onto a platform. He spat the blob of toothpaste onto the grass and gargled from the cup he held aloft with magic. He was just about to spit the water when he heard a whistling noise and saw some strange objects. He didn’t have time to process what it was before he disappeared in an explosion. Most of the shells flew right over the trenches as they were aimed at the city.
“Ponies stay down!” Blue Blade bellowed throughout the dugout.
“What is happening Blue blade!?” Celestia asked worriedly.
“I think we’re under attack,” he stammered.
Celestia was going to begin before Blue Blade cut the connection.
“Tall Spark!” Blue Blade bellowed.
“Yes sir!” Spark called back.
“Run down the line and grab more stallions. We need to get the workers to the basements. You heard about what happened to ponies inside structures above ground!”
Tall Spark needed no more motivation than that.
Blue blade galloped up the ramp into the morning light. Looking up he could see the shell flying overhead and smashing into structures. Fire and debris rained into the streets. Blue Blade gathered a dozen stallions from the next shelter and they hurried into the city. They had a way to go as they had to gallop to the furthest reaches of the city. Using magic infused into his throat Blue Blade began shouting.
“All civilians are to move with due haste to your nearest designated shelter!” The unicorns shouted.
They were dodging falling debris and moving under anything they could so they weren’t directly in the open. They were lucky they thought to move the civilians deeper. The outermost sections were taking a beating
.
Most of the stallions in Detrot had been pulled out to serve Equestria in its rapidly growing militia. But tens of thousands of stallions had stayed and had begun shuffling towards the nearest shelter. When a buildings top exploded in fire and large chunks of debris began to rain down did they truly begin to move. A dozen stallions were crushed under a giant chunk of concrete. Panic set in and it turned quickly from an organized march to a swirling melee of who could get to safety the fastest. Stallions were knocked to the ground and trampled by their neighbors. It took time to get everypony to safety. But after several hours they were fairly certain they had everyone sheltered. The basements were chalk full of supplies. Stallions had been assigned to every shelter to ensure stability.
Even the royal guards that had trained their entire lives were frightened like little foals. Blue Blade had managed to make it to the shelter of the trench line. The stallions and mares were shaking in terror as the shells exploded outside. Clumps of dirt fell from the ceiling. They might be fairly deep underground but they could hear the explosions quite clearly.
“Sir what’s going on?” one of his stallions asked.
“We’re under a ‘siege’ I think Celestia called it,” Blue recalled.
“What the buck is a siege?” one pony swore.
“Doesn’t sound too pleasant,” somepony piped up.
“It’s when a bunch of ponies attack a place, usually surrounding it. They throw bombs at it and then they take it over,”
“That really doesn’t sound good sir,” Spark said shuddering.
“It’s not. We’re here to stop them from getting to Canterlot.”
Several ponies nodded.
“But how many of those… those… ‘Humans’ or whatever in Celestia’s name they’re called, are there?”
“I don’t rightfully know. But you heard the princess. We’re fighting for her, Equestria and more importantly our families. I ask you, do you want really to let these things reach our foals?”
Everypony in the shelter shook their heads.
“That’s why we’re here,” Blue said sagely.
As the first week of the siege was to move slowly for the ponies, it went like a breeze for the men of Krieg. The hundreds of thousands of men had begun a trench line of their own a simple quarter of a kilometer from the equine line. The large Atlas’ made making trenches simple. The hydraulic lifters had begun digging into the soft earth, quickly creating deep trenches. It was left to the guardsmen to flesh them out.
As the foot sloggers dug, the men in the artillery companies were working just as hard. As the barrels of their guns turned red from heat they needed to be switched. They had been trained so it was like a science. Pieces of the guns had to be replaced as they were worn down from the constant use. Lucky that The Emperor protects, He ensured they were supplied with all the necessary materials needed to wage war.
Blue Blade was talking with Celestia again.
“Your majesty, the ‘humans’ are bombing us!” Blue Blade had to shout to be heard over the constant explosions.
“I’m aware of that; soon Pegasi shall be lifting off to try to cripple our foe. They will be leaving on the morrow,” Celestia said firmly.
“I understand your majesty. I just fear for what is to come. We can rarely leave our shelters. These creatures keep dropping those bombs every few seconds. I’m not sure how they’re doing it. They don’t have anything flying over us,” Blue said confused.
“I’m not exactly sure how they are doing it either my little pony. They have some kind of pipe that lobs them,” she said as happily as she could given the circumstances, “I apologize Blue Blade, I must go and make sure the Pegasi are prepped for takeoff.”
“Yes your majesty,” Blue said as the image of Celestia winked out of existence.
“Sir!” Tall Spark hollered above the explosions.
“Yes Spark?” The Blue unicorn called back.
“Care to join us now?” Spark said referring to the card game that was going on again.
“I already… You know what? Sure, I’ll join in next hoof,” Blue said sitting on a crate.
“Come on, put your backs into it. We need to get our trench dug faster than third platoon!” Guardsman 1647-3026-0125-9258 called to his squad. They had a bet with third platoon; three days worth of ration bars to whichever platoon could dig their trenches the fastest.
It was hard to tell, fresh earth was being thrown constantly. Boards were being laid down along the 6 foot deep trenches. Dugouts were already underway. Whoever could dig their platoon trench along with the eight dugouts would win.
Every so often a guardsman would stop for a moment to look out over the short stretch of no-man’s land. They each felt a burning hatred for the xeno filth. They were stain in His vision. To think that even the filthy Tau would attempt such a thing disgusted them.
Already pamphlets were being handed out. It was a list of proven fact from dedicated Imperial scientists. The equines had horrible eyesight, barely able to see past fifteen feet. They were cowards frightened by loud noises and bright lights. It was advised to shine lights on them and shout while putting them out of their misery. As they are not predators fighting is not in their nature, when the battle begins they should flee, if they are intelligent enough to know how. They had a number of unstable psykers in their midst, they were horned equines that are prone to spontaneous combustion if the buildup of warp energy is too great. The winged equines have short stubby wings barely able to lift them off the ground; they could barely reach speeds of fifteen kilometers an hour and if they go much faster their wings are known to seize up causing them to plummet to their death.
A chunk of the guardsmen chuckled at it, of course they held on to it, to just throw away something like that might be grounds for execution. Some took it to heart memorizing all the weaknesses of their enemies. Studying the diagrams provided showing weak spots.
As over ten thousand Pegasi took off the siege was well underway. Blue Blade made sure to send word down the line. Nopony was to leave the dugouts. It would be suicide to leave the protection of the underground shelters.
The time ticked by slowly, games only kept their spirits up for so long. They might have enough supplies to last a month, maybe two. But they were quickly getting cabin fever.
“Read em and weep,” a unicorn said with a smile, “royal flush.”
“Celestia’s teats,” Spark muttered.
“I’m done for now, I’m going to get some sleep,” Blue said standing and stretching.
Before he could get to his cot he felt a magical tingle. Celestia was contacting him.
“Hello Blue Blade, how are your stallions holding out?” She asked curiously.
“Well your majesty, it has only been a few days. There are always loud bangs from the bombs. But we’ll make do with what we have been given.”
“That is good to hear Blue. I am contacting to let you know that the Pegasi just lifted off. They should be reaching the humans in around four and a half days,” Celestia said with a hint of sorrow.
“Your majesty, we will crush those who would attempt to hurt our families. We will stop them here,” he said beaming.
Celestia’s heart strings ached. It tore her heart out that they truly believed anything possible. Most things are possible, this wasn’t one of them. She knew she had doomed them the moment the order formed in her head. The royal alicorn put on her best smile.
“Yes Blue Blade, we shall stop them in their tracks, they shall regret what they have done to our ponies,” she said her smile almost wavered.
“Your majesty, I need to get some rest, will you excuse me?” Blue Blade asked.
“Yes, you may soldier,” Celestia said severing the spell.
She took a deep breath. I can’t believe I lied to him like that, she said as a tear streaked down her face and landed with a tiny plink to the floor. No matter how many times she had to send ponies to die it never got easier. A wise Draconequus once told her that she was no longer fit to be ruler if it ever stopped hurting to send ponies into danger.
She took another deep breath before she got back to business. She had already ordered all the factory equipment be moved from Stalliongrad to Manehattan. It was taking forever to move everything by cart. She wished they had a better mode of transportation. But with no rivers they couldn’t use boats. Something would need to be figured out. The royal alicorn was still a bit perturbed by the news that had recently reached her royal ears. The griffins had refused to lend air, the large birds were probably hoping both Equestria and these humans would wear each other down then they would try to grab as much territory as possible. She had to find a way to draw them into the fight, the griffins had always had a firm military. With them they might just turn the tide yet. But onto more pressing matters.
She had also recently teleported to both Haliflanks and Derbyshire. Everypony was evacuated. She knew that with empty cities that the creatures wouldn’t stop to, she shuddered at the thought of the human teenager, who has said it was ‘cleansing’. They would get to Canterlot quicker, but she refused to use more ponies as bait to slow her opponents. Slowing them at Detrot had already stooped her to Nightmare Moons level. She had willingly sacrificed a hundred thousand ponies to attempt to outflank Celestia’s forces during the final months of the Nightmare wars.
Celestia thought back to the human, he had seemed very fanatical, almost like the slaves of Nightmare Moon. They would need to get more humans to find more about this ‘Emperor’ she was curious as to why he was glorified.
The week ticked by, for the artillery crews it had been a countless number of shells lobbed at Detrot. For the grim quartermasters it had been exactly fifty-eight thousand one-hundred and fifty-one. Two. Three. Servitors stood at attention counting every shell loaded and fired. Those numbers were turned into data sent to the quartermaster’s data slates. As servitors watched the shells be loaded and fired, other servitors constantly moved shells from the stockpiles to the piles of shells to be fired. Other servitors moved the used casing out of the way. It was a constant cycle they were destined to repeat until they were ordered to stop by the Enginseer in charge of them.
As the end of the first week came to a close familiar giant storm clouds were spotted. Low rez images from the ship Screams of Retribution could barely spot the Pegasi hiding in the gray carpet. The Scream of Retribution had entered the atmosphere for a purpose.
The Pegasi moved the storm clouds as quickly as possible. As they neared the fighting they gave the clouds a last big push before slowing down. They let the clouds drift for a while before it was time. But their trick wouldn’t work a second time. For as soon as the clouds were spotted servitors began moving large amounts of autocannon ammo to the hydra platforms. As soon as the clouds were within range the gunners opened fire. The massive fist sized rounds began tearing through the clouds. The front ponies were torn to pieces.
Heads exploded and limbs were torn off. Panic quickly set in, the wing leaders quickly reigned in their teams. The survivors from the first attack had given them what information they could. The ponies dove in droves towards the batteries. The infantry had quickly entered their dugouts the second the clouds were spotted. The artillery was ordered to keep firing. The hydras were told to focus fire on the ones diving. That was easier said than done. Hundreds of casings were being thrown to the sides. Servitors quickly reloaded the autocannons when they ran dry.
Guardsman 5024-5193-0859-4991 watched through his vision slit as a heavy mortar exploded in fire. His effort doubled. Spotting a small cluster of a dozen equines gathering to strike at a thudd gun, he turned his turret and pulled the trigger. Hundreds of rounds filled the air. The equines were torn to ribbons. Wings disappeared, legs were removed and giant chunks of flesh disappeared in red mist. Quickly swiveling to fire at another group of equines making a dive at another heavy mortar, more shell casings flew off to the side. The heavy mortar protected the guardsman moved onto other targets. He would purge the filthy beasts from His sight.
At battery sixteen Guardsman 6201-4929-6931-0163 was reciting a prayer as he was loading the thudd gun.
Machine Spirit, accept my gift,
Swallow the light, and spit out death.
He looked up and saw a bomb whistling down, running would be futile.
Mighty Emperor, spread Your divine light to protect me from the darkness
He heard a small thud, slowly he opened his eyes. He wasn’t dead, he was very much alive. The piece of ordnance had landed next to the stock pile of shells. It was a dud.
“You there, grab that bomb and get it out of here,” guardsman 0119-1483-1952-1825 said as he pointed to another guardsman.
“Fire!” Another guardsman shouted.
The gun went off, once, twice, thrice and four times.
Spirits in the Machine,
Reward my faith,
And smash the target.
As guardsman 6130-1863-1934-1952 unloaded the gun a prayer was recited.
Machine spirit, forgive my actions
Soon you shall be whole again.
After twelve hours of constant bombs dropping it was over. A dozen guns had been destroyed, five thudd guns and seven heavy mortars. The camo nets had been set up. But the sheer number of bombs dropped had scored some lucky hits. The Imperial trench line was in ruin. Some flight leaders had led their teams bravely. Others were content to stay above the clouds and drop their payloads.
The rain had once again begun falling on the men of Krieg. Leaving their dugouts they began working. The ground had become a brown soup, that didn’t stop them from working. The men of the 501st infantry regiment, 400th company, sixth platoon, had won the bet. Their trench had been nearing completion before the bombs dropped. Third platoons trench was now a series of craters. The men begrudgingly gave over the ration bars. They would have to spread their rations a bit thinner now.
The men of third platoon now looked across the line with even more hatred. In just over a week they would walk across the small stretch of land and begin slaughtering the colorful equines. As men on the ground watched with hatred across no-man’s land, a large amount of Marauder bombers and Vultures were being prepped for launch. No enemy of the Imperium was safe from His gaze. Man, women, child even the old would find out eventually.
I hope you guys enjoyed it. I really like the Imperial prayers (which are all courtesy of the Imperial Infantrymen’s Uplifting Primer) I’ll probably go back and throw in more prayers in previous chapters. One thing I really like is the religious aspect of the Imperium. It really helps the fanaticism to have prayers for every single bucking thing. I’m starting to ramble on guys and gals, hope you all have a great night, day?
Where ever you are, have a good one.
Hunter C. Creed
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So awesome!
934430 agreed
Good job.
im beginning to worry more about the artillery and firepower being lost during these battles than the lives :/
You have done well in the Emperor's sight brother. I can't wait for the next update. Also, are you planning on writing more warhammer 40k crossover stories in the future? Because I think everyone can agree that this will not be enough. I hope that you produce more stories after this one in the future. Keep up the good work.
Thoughts for the day: The blood of martyrs is the seed of the Imperium
Hatred is the Emperor's greatest gift to humanity.
949652 In all honesty, I hope to. When I started writing, I had this single fic in mind. I was planning on just writing this one story and dropping out of the race. Now that I've actually gotten started and found all this good reception my mind has been churning. Although I was thinking about a S.T.A.L.K.E.R crossover after this. But we shall see brother.
Inspirational speech of the day:
'You consider yourselves soldiers? Having two arms and legs, a head and a lasgun does not make you a soldier! Soldiers must prove themselves. You are maggots, crawling gross in the Emperor's garden. This is a war, and such wars feed on maggots. Do you want to be ork fodder? Make no mistake, these creatures eat maggots for breakfast! it is time to prove yourselves! It is time to goad destiny and die for the cause. Follow me, maggots, and prove yourselves soldiers, every last one of you!'
Commissar Haight, just before the glorious charge of the Korgan 1st, their first and last action.
Hunter C. Creed
950997
Sounds good. I would love to see either a legitimate story of Ursaker E. Creed or a longer comedy one about his tactical genius on this site. Just a suggestion.
Speech for the day:
"So. Fresh bunch'a recruits straight off the regimental home world, huh? Got your heads full of propaganda and not much else, lemme bet. Well, listen to me and listen good, kids - probably half of what you know is nothing but ambull-shit, and you'd better get that through your heads now rather than getting a traitor's lasbolt through your head on the battlefield. Now, you pray to the Emperor like you should, and if you don't the Commissar'll blow your head off, and that'll be a mercy compared to what I'll do to ya if I find out 'fore he does - but don't be thinkin' for a second that recitin' the Litany of Protection makes you invulnerable on a battlefield.
Sure, you'll hear stories about brave Guardsmen that charged enemy positions armed with nothin' but their lasguns and their bayonets and won - and I'll even admit that probably a couple of them are true, but in an army that numbers in the billions one or two of ya are bound to get lucky every now and again, so it don't really say much. No, kids, they might make for inspirin' stories, but fanatical charges aren't what win battles. Battles are won by determination and tactics. Lemme tell you about this one time our regiment was servin' under the command of General Creed.
Never a finer tactician has the Imperial Guard ever seen than that General Creed, let me tell you. He came up with plans so devious and cunnin' you didn't even have a hope of figurin' out how he'd done what he'd done 'less he explained it to ya himself. We were fightin' on Kavara IV, what'd used to be a good Imperial world till the taint of Chaos found its way down there and turned loyal citizens into traitorous scum. At the time we'd been shipped off, we thought we were just gonna be helping the local PDF put down a small insurrection, but what with the ways of the warp by the time we got there it'd turned into a full on rebel uprisin' and all the nobles were already dead or in hidin', and another army led by General Creed had arrived to bring it back under control - we'd been missin' so long they thought we'd been lost to the warp, you see, and sent another off in our place - so we wound up joinin' forces an' bolsterin' their ranks.
Now, we got deployed into one of the urban centers that'd been taken over almost entirely by the heretics, goin' through clearing buildings of resistance and tightenin' the noose around their filthy necks. Only been gettin' minor resistance until a couple of hours in, when we stumbled across a fortified plaza that hadn't been in none of the intelligence reports. So there we were, pinned down by enemy fire, usin' rubble for cover and hopin' to the Emperor that'd we get some artillery support soon, when all of a sudden there's a tremendous rumblin' off to the right, soundin' like a column of tanks comin' up towards the buildin' we'd just cleared.
We weren't gettin' nothin' about armored support on the vox, so we was sittin' there shittin' ourselves wonderin' where the traitors had got tanks from, when all of a sudden the front of the buildin' just collapses out onto the street and a damn Baneblade rolls right on out in front of us. One blast from the main gun and it turned the heretic's position into a crater. The vox lights up and we get ourselves a message - "Armored Support courtesy of General Creed", they say. Now that's tactics, kids - we never saw it comin', so those traitors sure didn't. The application of overwhelmin' force at just the right spot at just the right moment'll turn the tide of any battle in your favor.
I took a look at that buildin' again as we were marchin' down the street in the Baneblade's wake, though. Funniest thing, the only hole in it was the one the tank'd made on its way out. How the hell we missed it when we were clearin' the place I don't know. How the hell Creed got it in there in the first place, I'm not sure I WANT to know - but let me tell you, pulling that off must've taken one hell of a tactical genius."
-Sergeant Karls addressing new recruits to the Hirian 204th, shortly before being relieved of duty and sent for psychiatric evaluation due to inexplicable urges to scream incoherently.
952677 I really should name my first born son Ursaker. Out of curiosity where did you find that piece? Although I don't recall their being much swearing in 40k most of the time they replace cusses with stuff such as feth, gak, frak, kak. So on and so forth. I doubt shit would survive another 38000 years. Other swears usually revolve around the Emperor; by the Emperor, Emperors toenails, by the Golden Throne.
Hunter C. Creed
954000
1d4chan actually. Its on the Ursaker E. Creed page. There is at least three or four more of those stories on the page. And I would pay you to name your first born Ursaker.
Thought for the day: To admit defeat is to blaspheme against the Emperor.
Speech for the day:
The mortal moved his piece. Tzeentch, Lord of Change and Master of Destinies moved his. They were playing a game of chess. The stakes were high: if the mortal won, Tzeentch, all his daemons and followers would retreat to the Warp for all time and would never again attempt to harry the mighty Imperium of Man in any way be it directly or indirectly. If Tzeentch won (which, of course, he knew he would), the soul of the mortal went to Tzeentch. These stakes obviously seemed skewed in favor of the mortal, but there were several factors to consider.
The mortal moved another piece.
Tzeentch moved another piece.
Tzeentch had wanted this particular soul for what might have been 10 million years, or maybe 5 minutes. Who could tell in the Warp? The problem was, it was pledged to the accursed corpse-god on Terra. So Tzeentch had sought him out and challenged him.
The mortal moved.
Tzeentch moved.
Also Tzeentch, as Master of Fates, knew that he would win. He had to. He had been planning for this game for centuries before the mortal in question was ever born. He had watched, planned, schemed, and acted to ensure that the mortal would learn a certain chess strategy, one that he just "happened" to have a perfect counter to.
Another move by the mortal.
Another move by Tzeentch.
Finally, the idea of a Chaos God focusing so much on a single soul, or making such an enormous bargain was inconceivable, a fact that had never once changed, not even for Warmaster Horus. What was Tzeentch, if not the Lord of Change? So went the reasoning (if the thought process of a Chaos God can be called such) of Tzeentch.
The mortal went on for several turns.
Tzeentch went on for several turns.
Finally, the mortal got a smug look on his face. Tzeentch's beak curled into something resembling a smile.He held his head up high. The mortal moved a piece. Tzeentch spoke, in a voice that was ever shifting and could drive men mad.
"Mortal, do you not know who I am? Let me tell you. I am Tzeentch. The Changer of Ways. The Master of Fate. The Lord of Change. The Controller of Destinies. I have existed before the stars, and I will exist long after they have died. No mere mortal could possibly-"
Then Tzeentch spared a glance at the board.
"What is that pawn doing there?"
Tzeentch stared, utterly dumbstruck. His eyes bulged and his beak dropped. He saw the reason for the mortal's smugness.
Tzeentch let out a cry of rage. It was a cry that echoed throughout the Warp, driving Imperial psykers insane and Chaos sorcerers more insane.
It was checkmate.
A very small part of Tzeentch was glad. After all, being unintentionally defeated was certainly a change for him. Also, no longer interfering in the affairs of the mortal galaxy was definitely a change.
However, that was just a very small part.
Tzeentch let out a cry of rage. It was a cry that echoed throughout the Warp, driving Imperial psykers insane and Chaos sorcerers more insane. It was a cry containing a subconscious command. All across the galaxy, the daemons of Tzeentch vanished from the material world, never to return. His mortal followers began retreating, heading towards the Eye of Terror. All the Gods, daemons, and mortal followers of Chaos took notice. In the Warp near Terra, the mighty soul of the God-Emperor of Mankind himself took notice. He smiled, for he knew what it meant. It was a cry that was to echo in the Warp throughout eternity, long after the stars themselves died. It was the cry of a defeated god.
"CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED!"
954204 I got off work early today. Had time on thursday and friday to start writing the next chapter. At 4500 words and wondering if I should make it a 2 or 3 parter and post what I have. What do you guys think?
And I'll hold you to that, you laugh now but in a few years you get a pm asking you to pay up
Thought of the day:
A great leader must lead! Some do this with sound tactical acumen, others do it with a bolter, leading from the front. But a most important part of leadership is speaking to the fighters. Whether this is a rousing battle cry on the eve of a great conflict, or solemn words to mourn the passing of an officer, a great leader must inspire his men to fight with stirring words!
Hunter C. Creed
954222
Your choice man. And don't worry, I'll be more than willing to pay up once you give me proof. Then you get paid and not a second earlier!
Thought for the day: A good soldier obeys without question. A good officer commands without doubt.