Operation 13: Summer Camp, Part Two
Sunset Shimmer; Sister of Battle
By Tundara
Operation 13
A wave of cool, filtered air wafted over Sunset as she followed Rainbow into what could have been a typical atrium of a perfectly normal office building in Manehatten. A simple fountain with burbling clear water dominated the middle of a wide, open space overlooked by three of the building’s six floors in a general ‘U’ shape. Faux wood paneling lined walls dotted with vibrant posters for various products the company produced. Several seemed to be for women in various black and white frilly outfits, some looking coy, others with wide smiles, but all in an oddly exaggerated pose of doing housework that showed off their long legs, or the swooping curve of their backsides while they looked coyly over their shoulders. A couple of posters were for a sleek, unknown patterned gun that could have been a lasgun, but seemed a bit fragile to Sunset’s eye. There was a poster with explosions behind a bulky, shoulder mounted heavy weapon with two rows of glowing nodules. Further along there was a poster with a tank that was sleeker than any Imperial counterpart. And another was simply greyed out with a strip of ancient, foreign writing over a black and white silhouette of a man in some sort of power armour.
All of this would have been fine… If they’d been in some strange futuresque Manehatten.
The trouble lay in the itty bitty fact that they were on a Deathworld, and no one had been in the building in over ten thousand years.
“How?” The word slipped from the lips of someone from Kiwi squad.
“This is an archeotech vault. Don’t think about it,” Sunset warned, doing her best to take her own advice.
Her teeth itched and she couldn’t help but feel that they were being watched. The sensation was almost overpowering in its intensity. Like a bony finger digging into the base of her skull that she’d couldn’t escape.
As with Mother, a woman spoke over hidden vox casters, but the ancient words were nothing more than melodic gibberish. The words came in a loop, over and over, an endless stream in a long since forgotten language.
They advanced deeper into the atrium, passing by a reception desk, and were joined by Spitfire and Fleur squads.
Tracing her gun across the three floors of open balconies, Kiwi glanced towards Spitfire, “Should we wait for orders to proceed deeper?”
Spitfire quickly shook her head. “Fan out and clear this place. Quicker we establish a foothold the better.”
Kiwi, Fleur, and Sunset all nodded and spread out with their squads. Spitfire’s squad hung back a little and used a light to flash signals to the approaching army.
Twilight at first didn’t move. She was transfixed by some sort of ancient cogitator that would have been used by the long turned to dust receptionists. Applejack gripped her shoulder and almost had to yank her back into position. Using hand gestures, Sunset signaled for her squad to head up the wide central staircase that led to the upper floors. Her boots clicked on the stone tiles, and the creaking of her leather straps seemed unusually loud.
The first door was exceptionally plain. and at Sunset’s nod, Rainbow threw open the door. A waft of stale air washed over Sunset as she led them inside.
On the other side was a typical office as would be found on a million different worlds in this reality, as they would in her original world. A wood desk. Trays for paperwork. Motivational posters on the walls. Simple cabinets for paperwork that needed to be on hand. And a man behind the desk. With a large pistol in his hand pointed at his temple.
Sunset’s eyes flew open and she dropped to a knee, gun braced against her shoulder. Adrenalin spiked in a warm flush through limbs and brain. Behind her the already somewhat sluggish motions of her squadmates crawled to even slower depths. She could feel the heavy thumps of her heart in her chest. The movement of her finger down to the trigger of her gun felt almost casual.
But the man didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. He couldn’t, as parts of his brains were floating in a pinkish mist around cracked fragments of skull hovering just above his head. His whole left side had rotted away, only ossified bones remaining where once had hung muscle and flesh. A partially shriveled and milky eye hung in the otherwise empty socket. And then his eyes moved. Grotesquely, impossibly, his eyes fixated on Rainbow Dash and then twitched to Sunset.
“What in the Emperor’s—”
“Stop!” Sunset blurted.
The itching in her teeth was almost unbearable. It was as if they wanted to jump out of her skull and run away. Or she was sucking on a lightning cloud.
“No one move a muscle. Not one inch!”
Very carefully she reached up and keyed her vox bead.
“Castle, Sunset Lead; We’ve encountered a phenomenon. Over.”
The response, when it came, warbled from her vox like she was underwater, words stretched and distorted into a gibbering bubble.
“Say again, Castle?”
Nothing.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sunset saw Rainbow mouth, ‘Comms’ out?’ to Applejack, who shrugged in response. Slowly Sunset raised her hand and waved for everyone to back out of the room. Only Rainbow and Applejack had managed to make it more than a few steps past the door, and both had frozen on seeing the half-decayed man. They hardly needed Sunset’s order to retreat back out of the room, where Fluttershy and Twilight gave them puzzled looks, neither having yet seen the horror sitting behind the desk.
A cavalcade of possible actions rattled in Sunset’s head. From retreating out of the building, and advising the army to make the dangerous trek back to the landing site, to showing no fear in spite of the obvious presence of Chaos and boldly marching into the room. Between the two extremes were a range of other responses, with many variations there-of.
Sending Rainbow as a runner to relay that they’d encountered an active arcane phenomenon held the strongest sway. They’d then have to wait as Castle sent a response. Which itself would most likely be, ‘Duh. This is a Deathworld clouded by Warpstorms. Of course there is witchery and other foulness present. We all knew this was a possibility. Stop being a coward.’
Still there was a world of difference between suspecting you’d encounter an arcane phenomenon to having a many thousands of year old half-decayed/half-alive man right in front of you.
As Sunset took a couple seconds to think over her possibilities Twilight and Fluttershy both looked to see what had so spooked their squadmates.
Both had the same, instantaneous reactions; to enter the room. Rainbow caught Fluttershy by the shoulder, holding her childhood friend back. Twilight used the opportunity to slip between Fluttershy and the wall.
A hissed, “Wait!” went ignored.
Sunset held her breath. Twilight’s head snapped down to the floor, up to the ceiling, either side of the room, and then fixated on the man.
“Curious,” was all Twilight said.
“Throne’s sake, Twilight, get back here,” Applejack growled, her fingers tight on her autogun.
Fluttershy covered her mouth and trembled, while Rainbow fingered an aquila sigil hanging about her neck.
Sunset echoed their sentiments, adding, “That’s an order,” even though it was patently obvious.
Lost in her own head, Twilight didn’t heed them. Her gaze darted around. Floor, ceiling, floor, ceiling, walls, floor. Casually, she reached into her pocket. Pulled out a handful of dirt that had accumulated during the march. Keeping her hand close to her, Twilight threw the dirt out around her. Some sprayed across the formerly pristine carpet. Some became trapped, and floated there. Just like the bits of skull and brain tissue.
“Excellent!” Twilight chirped and started to make her way deeper into the room.
By this point Sunset’s mouth had fallen open and she was utterly enraptured by and terrified for Twilight. Memories of falling through the Warp, of the bulbous monstrosity that had tormented her, tortured her, killed her, and her subsequent escape left her paralyzed. She was gripped by dread for Twilight, and it held her in an unrelenting grasp to the spot.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She knew she had to get Twilight out of the room. But, her body refused to move.
Sliding carefully, Twilight pulled out another handful of dirt, cast it in front of her, and continued deeper into the room by shuffling a few steps to the side. She then ducked down and crawled forward before rolling onto her back, and threw a last smaller handful of dirt. Satisfied with the results, Twilight folded herself up so she was crouched beside the desk, and then reached up. With extreme delicacy she took hold of the gun and pulled it out of the skeletal hand. With a click and rattle, the arm crumbled as whatever force that had held the bones in place dissipated.
“Sorry,” Twilight said to the man. His eye had followed Twilight the entire time, and Sunset swore that she saw a glimmer of sorrow reflected in it. If Twilight noticed, she gave no indication. Twilight started to crouch back down. She stopped, tilted her head, and plucked something up that had been sitting obscured on the desk before she retraced her path.
Only once Twilight popped back up in front of her did Sunset remember she needed to breathe.
“Okay, I think that is everything in there.” Twilight’s grin was of pure delight and innocence. In her hands were the gun and a metal card.
Confused tears prickled in the corners of Sunset’s eyes. She wanted to laugh, sob, and scream simultaneously. Words failed her. Sunset decided she would give Twilight a very good, very, very long admonishment later. When they were safe and she could trust her emotions better. For the time being she simply closed the door, and used a red marker to place an Inquisitorial sigil as a warning.
“What’s that?” Rainbow asked Twilight, flicking a finger at the card. It was a plain, dulled silver colour with a black stripe down one side. On the other side in faded hand-written script were a series of numbers.
Twilight’s eyes twinkled. “A magnetic access card. My parents used them to enter the more secure parts of the administorum’s cogitators. At least, it looks the same. It’s very simple, old—”
“Fine, fine, I get it.” Rainbow turned away, and Twilight seemed to deflate a little.
“Why bother asking a question if you don’t want an answer?” Twilight whispered to herself as she twisted the ancient gun around in her hands and began to inspect its every detail.
They moved on and searched the next few rooms on their level. Doors were checked, breached, and when no dangers were found they moved on. Nothing as interesting or unnerving was discovered in the remaining rooms. They were all simple offices of the type used throughout the Imperium, aesthetics aside. Plain and uninteresting. Some had picture frames, the pictures faded blank with age. Same with posters one office had on a wall. The last had a pile of rust and brittle plastic where there’d been an office chair.
It was strange between what was preserved and what was decayed. There would be a simple mechanical stapler of the same sort used for years in Sunset’s Equestria next to a pile of fragments of something indiscernible.
She’d brushed her fingers against a poster, and it was as it crumbled to dust that realization struck her. “Personal stuff,” Sunset muttered. “Everything in here preserved is issued by their administorum.”
The bony finger at the base of her skull pressed harder, and the itch in her teeth doubled in intensity.
The separation between ‘personal’ and ‘provided’ seemed blurred as in one office the posters were fresh, crisp, as if placed just moments before the girls’ arrival. On them were images of dangling cats with ancient script underneath. Sunset rolled her eyes and continued on until they’d reached the end of the balcony and doubled back to the stairs.
Other squads had begun to return as well, all reporting the same sort of generic rooms as Sunset Squad had found. Except for Fleur Squad, who had encountered a phenomenon on the third floor. Fleur was even paler than usual, an accomplishment for the ivory skinned beauty, and Sublime’s grey eyes were pinpricks of terror as they relied their discovery.
In a boardroom of some sort hung the metallic skeleton of a person suspended in midair, arms crossed over silvery ribs and head leaning forward as if in prayer. Preserved skin stretched behind the skeleton, and on it were runes that shifted and moved as if trying to avoid being read. Within the ribs beat a still-living heart, and at its feet were coils of intestines and viscera. Obscenely, the girls had felt their own hearts fall into rhythm with the profane organ and their breaths had misted between clenched teeth. None of the girls dared enter the room and had sealed it with Inquisitorial scripts.
Spitfire, as the senior squad captain, took in what she heard from Fleur and Sunset squads.
She followed a growled oath with, “Kiwi squad, you secure this area and keep any non-progena out. There has to be a jammer somewhere nearby. Everyone else; spread out and eliminate it. The Emperor protects.”
“The Emperor protects,” they reflexively intoned.
Sunset found Spitfire’s reasoning to be fallacious. Why would there be a jammer present? The problem with their vox relays was more likely to do with the Warp incursions. But, so long as it gave her squad the opportunity to get ahead of the others it hardly mattered.
The itching in her teeth undiminished, Sunset took her squad towards the back of the building.
It wasn’t a large building, and clearly had been a combination of managerial and sales offices. The squads spread out. Fleur squad rechecked the unmarked rooms for anything missed in the initial sweep of the atrium, while Kiwi headed towards the upper levels. Sunset led her squad into narrow, plain corridors. Besides there being more of the posters from the atrium, it was horrendously boring. More so than even Mother’s utilitarian corridors.
She found herself yearning for the gothic stylings of the schola. For the leering skeletal sentries and the imposing statues set in alcoves every few feet. The high arched stone ceilings that echoed with distant boots and pious prayers. And the stained glass windows depicting the many campaigns the Sisters had prosecuted across a hundred worlds.
Passing a barren boardroom they came across a T intersection that lead towards the back of the building. On checking the corner Sunset began to smirk. Ahead of her, past display cabinets, a set of turnstiles, and at the end of a long, covered bridge were a set of grey, thick doors that had to lead outside the offices.
With vox communications being interfered there was no way but to send a runner to inform the other squads about what she’d found. A wicked grin pulled at Sunset’s face. She wasn’t going to wait while Rainbow ran to get the other squads. She wasn’t going to surrender to the itching in her teeth, or the bony finger that was digging ever deeper into her head. She would make certain that she was covered in accolades.
Slowly, carefully, they made their way along the corridor.
Sunset frowned as they neared the display cases. Inside of them were arms. All the right arm, from shoulder joint to hand, and plainly artificial.
The first arm was blocky, sort of unwieldy, and reminiscent of the Mechanicus’ appendages. A little more advanced was the next arm, and so on with the next. Each was progressively sleeker and more humanlike, while still clearly and obviously being mechanical. The final three were the most interesting. A large jump in quality separated them from the others.
Fine art compared to the primitive pieces that preceded them, they instantly drew everyone’s attention.
Porcelain, almost doll-like in appearance with slightly exaggerated joints, pearlescent ‘skin’, and a somehow delicate quality that still held aspects of the previous iterations showed the left arm to still be an evolution in design and capabilities. Long, spidery fingers curled inward over a soft, padded palm. It was menacing, almost inhuman, and yet beautiful, graceful, like a dancer mid performance.
Next to it was an arm that exuded military intent and power. Thicker, with sloped curves to deflect and hard edges, this arm was a dark grey with splotches of camouflage. The hand was curled into a fist, thick nodules on the knuckles and down the forearm in a double-line. It seemed ready to smash itself free from the glass prison and attack Sunset.
Furthest along, the final example exuded wealth, prestige, and ostentation. Baroque gold filigree of leaves and flowers delicately entwined had been worked along the edges of otherwise bare plates to create ornate contrasts. Little rubies studded joints and flowed along the seams. Beneath the golden exterior was a mesh of a black, fibrous muscle that served as the functional components.
What drew the eye the most, however, was an elegant fleur-de-lis etched onto the back of the hand. Great effort had been made in the detailing. A dozen rubies studded the delicate edges of the floral design alone, around which brocaded carvings curled. In the depths of the grooves glittered thin veins of black dust that highlighted the exquisite workmanship.
Sunset blinked, and rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. She wasn’t alone in seeing the design.
Applejack made the aquila over her chest, and exclaimed, “Throne preserve us; the mark of the saints?”
Twilight was drawn by the remark. She’d almost pressed her face against the glass, her face an ugly contortion of desire and greed. The gleam in her eyes left an unsettled knot in Sunset’s stomach more so than even the arms themselves. Unslinging her gun, Twilight swung the butt of her gun towards the glass.
Before it could connect, she was grabbed from either side by Applejack and Sunset.
“Whoa! Ain’t no time for that!”
“Have you gone mad?” Sunset snarled as she helped drag Twilight away. “First going after that gun, and now this? Have you lost your mind?”
“That’s why we’re here! To take back what has been hidden here. It’s why the Emperor sent us, protected us, and kept the monsters of the wastes away!” Twilight protested as she threw herself against the much stronger restraining arms.
“He protects those who deserve it. Look at this place. Really look at it! You think He has done this? That he left this place so perfectly preserved since the Dark Ages just for us?” The boney finger pressed into the back of Sunset’s skull retreated just a little. “Or, maybe, just maybe, there is something terrible at work here? Something in this place that keeps it preserved? That can keep a person alive while also being half dust, frozen in time like a bug in amber?”
Twilight blinked, her hand falling to the pistol strapped to her side. “Why would the arch-enemy keep an archeotech vault active and unplundered?”
The word ‘active’ sent a shiver down Sunset’s spine, and made that horrible, cold finger push deeper. Before she could examine why the simple word had such an effect there was a click and squeak of ungreased hinges. Sunset, Applejack, and Twilight all looked over to see Rainbow next to the display case, the glass in hand as she swung it open, the other still pinching a simple latch.
Noticing the trio’s incredulity, Rainbow snapped, “What? These things have to be easy to access for dusting.”
“But, not even locked?”
Rainbow just shrugged. She reached in to take the ornate arm, but was stopped by Sunset grabbing her wrist.
“It’s probably trapped then. They wouldn’t leave a piece of archeotech out in the open without any protection.”
“I th-think she already s-set the trap off then.” Fluttershy had come around and kneeled down next to the latch. Her finger trembled as she pointed to a tiny light that had been obscured by the lip of the case. It slowly blinked a deep, threatening red.
“Throne,” Sunset groaned and clutched a handful of her thick hair. That nothing else had happened was of tiny consolation. She wondered how many of the unobtrusive little lights they’d triggered elsewhere in the building.
“Maybe the trap was busted?” Rainbow suggested half-heartedly. She’d brought her gun back to her shoulder and warily watched for any sign of something coming to investigate the red light.
But nothing came. Nothing happened. There were no sounds. No signs of a response.
Nothing.
Just an eerie silence atop a gentle hum from the lights and distant ruffles of activity from the other squads that only Sunset could detect with her heightened hearing.
“That means I can take the arm, right?” Twilight’s eyes were huge and puppy-ish.
“Fine.” Sunset sighed. “That is why we are here.”
Twilight did a little giddy hop, and rapped her knuckles together in a paroxysm of joy. Delight shone from her face in a radiant glow. She grunted as she hefted the arm off its plinth. Twilight’s arms shook and her face went red as she staggered back. Her legs trembled and strained
“It’s heavy,” she sheepishly said.
With a tut and roll of her eyes, Applejack took the arm from Twilight, and immediately grunted herself.
“Emperor’s sake; it is heavy!” Amazement twisted through her voice as she slung the arm through the loops for her sleeping bag beneath her travelpack and cinched them tight.
“Anyone else feel like we’ve been a bit too lucky?” Rainbow asked.
“Throne, Rainbow, don’t put a hex on us” Applejack grumbled, her steely gaze unwavering as she stared down the covered bridge. After a slight pause she looked to Sunset. “Should we head back?”
It was more a suggestion than a question.
“That, um, might be a good idea,” Fluttershy muttered. The gun in her hands trembled as she twisted her head between the way ahead, and the way they’d just come. Quietly, Rainbow set her hand atop Fluttershy’s gun, and gave her a slight nod that calmed the nervous girl.
Sunset looked at the arm slung beneath Applejack’s pack, and imagined what glories awaited them further into the complex. She could sense this was only the tip of the iceberg of potential discoveries, that they’d barely scratched the surface of what lay hidden. She was loath to let others get ahead of her and make even more profound discoveries. That arm was just a display piece, afterall. She was on the cusp of greatness and glory, and it would claim it all.
“We’ll push on,” Sunset declared. “Who knows what else we’ll find deeper in the facility.”
Twilight’s happiness at getting the arm was paltry next to the glee that suffused her now. She jittered like a hound at the stretched end of a leash, barking to be released on the hunt. Applejack was ever stoic and shrugged, while Rainbow had a hint of a frown and Fluttershy shifted from foot to foot with a wandering gaze.
They left the remaining arms behind and crossed the covered bridge. Through the long windows they could see other squads and platoons of the children’s army exploring the compound.
Everywhere it was a sea of activity. No one was left to relax or laze about.
A large number had gathered next to the shipping and receiving doors to what was presumably the manufactorum. The large, rectangular building was far larger than the offices, with a dozen towering doors that were locked shut. It would take ten of the children standing on each others’ shoulders to reach the top of the doors, and each was just as wide. Without cogitator assistance to activate the thick hydraulic systems, it was impossible to open the doors.
Across the empty lot, a contingent of boys had begun to scale the mountain to reach the intakes for the trio of chemical silos. Hand over hand they went, the boys in the lead chiselling out better holds for those lower down. With them were a couple strong lads who had brought ropes, crampons, and other essentials. They hammered bolts and clips into wedges and then attached ropes that could be used to haul up heavier gear. A couple of the boys in their youthful energy misjudged their holds or over extended their reaches and slipped. With pitiable howls they plummeted to the unforgiving rocks where they writhed in agony. A third fell and smashed his brains across the ground. Undaunted by these losses, more boys clambered up the cliffs.
In the wide, open lot where ancient vehicles had parked in a time long since forgotten tents were erected. The inevitable wounded were brought to those with large red crosses for treatment by the medicea of Class Two. The boys who’d fallen from the cliffs were brought to these tents, and the medicea berated the ones who’d brought them, as a funerary pile was to be set up around the corner of the warehouse. There it would be out of sight. At least until the bodies piled up and over spilled the limited area.
At the top of the inclines to the parking lot defences were created. First were simple emplacements and spotting points, and then the children set about digging zig-zagging trenches and if they had time, bunkers eventually. Several hundred energetic children dug into the ground, dirt flung up to help make ramparts, and stones used to reinforce the nascent trenches’ sides.
Everyone could sense that their time was limited. That out in the gloom something was approaching, encircling the army, getting ready to snap its jaws on their throats. In the covered bridge, Sunset took note of the activity, and that it might distract her rivals as she covered herself in glory.
Her hopes were short lived as her exceptional hearing detected the muffled thumping of boots and clinking of gear as another squad approached. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed Fleur at the head of her squad. Close behind her was Kiwi, and to Sunset’s annoyance, Rarity.
With a quick flash of hand signals, Rarity ordered Sunset to hold position.
A twitch of frustration in the corner of her mouth, Sunset held up her fist just as they were about to reach the set of heavy blast doors separating the covered bridge from the tunnels set into the mountain.
Rarity smiled as she approached.
“I should have you all whipped for disobedience,” Rarity said, but her tone was light and amused. “Taking it upon yourselves to enter this place without even asking for confirmation? Throne preserve us all; I see why Drill Abbess Maria is so hard on our class. You’ve done well, darlings. Sister Karen was going to put us in charge of overseeing the camp and securing the perimeter. But, thanks to your efforts we’ve secured this building and entrance for our class, and instead she had to make Class Two stay behind to oversee the camp.”
As Rarity spoke, Spitfire squad and the slightly diminished Lyra squad had entered the covered bridge as well, followed closely by squads Cheerilee and Zap. They crammed together along the walls. Some peeked around the broad windows towards the activity below. Most were focused on Rarity or the heavy blast doors at the end of the bridge. Presumably the rest of Class Three were elsewhere in the offices.
Briefly, Rarity’s attention flicked to the arm hanging beneath Applejack’s pack. She then turned her attention to the heavy blast doors that barred any further progress.
“Well, Sunset, darling, your squad has the only one versed on machine spirits. Care to open these doors for us?”
Twilight didn’t even glance towards Sunset to get confirmation before she was at the ancient, odd cogitator that was little more than a numbered panel next to a slot. Twilight scratched her chin as she kneeled in front of it. From her pocket she pulled out the silver card she’d taken earlier.
Her brow pinched together, and she muttered, “No. They couldn’t have been that stupid…” Before she swiped it through the slot and then input the numbers that had been scrawled across the card.
Above the doors a green light began to glow and there was a loud click and buzz as locks were undone. Hidden gears began to grind. Above the door a red light began to pulse in time to a warning klaxon.
Everyone shared looks of pure incredulity.
“What kind of grox brained moron…” Rainbow asked the corridor at large.
There was a heavy thunk within the walls.
“The Emperor provides?” Twilight made a helpless shrug.
“Best not to question our good fortunes,” Sunset quietly chidded her squad.
Latches snapped open.
A few things happened all at once as the heavy security doors swung on well oiled pistons.
Overhead the fluorescent lights flickered, then died, and the gathered girls were cast into shadows. Through the opening portal came a blast of putrid, stale air that almost knocked the girls off their feet. Rot and decay mingled with the thicker smells of chemicals and industrial waste crawled into their sinuses and pooled in their mouths. All around Sunset resonated a mournful scream of a thousand voices raised in terror that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves. Twilight and Fluttershy both clapped their hands over their ears and ducked down. Sirens sounded out in the courtyard where the bulk of the children’s army still gathered, and there was a rumble beneath Sunset’s feet. Lights activated across the mountain side illuminating large communication dishes, and a reddish glow began to grow within the peak. At their necks the girls’ vox casters blasted with hundreds of voices requesting information or relaying orders in an indecipherable jumble. And then the children’s voices were silenced again, replaced by a deep, amused, thirsting laughter that slowly petered off.
And, lastly, the woollen texture in Sunset’s mouth vanished.
Pure dread knotted itself in Sunset’s gut.
As if to confirm her fears, a series of three klaxons rang through the building, followed by a man’s deep voice speaking ancient Steinsannian. The remaining lights in the building darkened and began to strobe. An eerie pall was cast over Class Three, and every shuddered and pressed a little closer to the other members of their squads as they wondered what monstrosities they had just awoken.
Doing her best to appear unaffected, Rarity nodded to the now open blast doors. “Well, girls, the Emperor has done His part. Best not to let Him down. Let us be slow, methodical, and most important, inspirational for the children.”
Sunset didn’t pay much attention to Rarity. She was far more focused on what could lay ahead. Weapons at the ready, she took her squad into the mountain. At the edge of her hearing she perceived a little tick-tick, like insects as they scrambled to escape the light.
In the distance there was a rattle and bang as the first of a series of access points were cut through the loading bay doors. A cheer went up across the army. At the forefront were Class One and members of the Nobles’ fraternities as they jostled and pushed their way inside.
They found a wide space filled with shelves stuffed with plasteel crates, barrels, boxes in heaping mounds, and along the far wall, tarps pulled tight over their frames, seven tanks. Twin barreled muzzles thrust outwards, the finish still gleaming despite the untold centuries sitting in the dark. Tarps were dragged aside, and the children’s celebrations grew. All could feel that this was the sort of discovery that would make them legendary, that their worth within the Catalogous would be extraordinary.
None thought to look up into the shadows of the rafters where tracks ran across the ceiling and from hooks hung hundreds of coffins.
Out in the rocky badlands clusters of shadows approached. They were hunched over and moved on malformed limbs. Their skin was pallid, with a dried parchment quality. Below bulbous foreheads were set unusually large eyes. These mutants seemed drawn to the once dormant archeotech vault. Rough tongues licked yellowed teeth in anticipation of the coming harvest.
And further off, in its lair high up in the mountains, the Terror of Steinsanne cracked open a giant golden eye, and with stern disapproval took note of the many intruders to its territory.
“Let's see who these fools are, little buttercup,” spoke the voice of an innocent girl, sweet and soft as the spring dew.
“Yes. Yes. Rend. Tear. Feast!” responded a multitudinal many that broke into a maddened chortle. “And drive them before us. Build the terror in their hearts. And then suck it from their withering souls.”
What a road it has been writing this chapter. There has been the usual tumult of rewriting segments. Trying to get a grasp of others only to have it fall apart. Juggling in and out various characters and events. But the biggest issue has been a lack of purpose and drive on my part.
For a long time I've felt insufficient as writer. So for a long while I didn't write, or it would be barely a few sentences with weeks of inactivity. This chapter was written in three blocks of activity.
The first bulk of it was in the Summer when I got my burst of inertia following the previous chapter. Very little of those efforts survived except for the corporate head quarter's atrium and the description of the chaos stasis held administrator.
The next block was towards the onset of fall early-september, where I would write little vignettes a few paragraphs long that would later need to be spliced together or shunted into a holding folder for later chapters. This saw me settle in my head they sequence of events that are to come.
And the last block of writing started at the beginning of November, where in I rewrote 90% of the chapter. 
Setting myself the goal of having the chapter out in time for Darktide's release was the biggest help. I need to give myself better deadlines and stick to them.
On to the events of the chapter themselves! That's what you really want to read in an author's note. If I miss anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'm growing less shy about giving away spoilers to the curious.
This chapter is part of the slow burn/build-up, obviously. I'm putting pieces in place and tightening the trap around the Children's Army.
So, the Corporation is a tech company that focused on household robotics. This was before war broke out between Stiensanne and Stiensmar. As the war escalated they shifted into defense contracts, as well as high-end prosthetics. The posters in the atrium show this evolution in the company.
Obviously, there are Cyberpunk inspirations in the arms that the girls found and in what the company was doing. But this also plays into the feud between the planets; between selective breeding to create better humans or cybernetic augmentation.
I suppose I should say that I settled on Stiensanne being very much in the mindset of the Golden Age of Humanity when it comes to science and technology.
Which is why anyone on the discord could tell you I got very disgruntled by the Votann. My personal take on the Imperium and its equipment is its all repurposed from mines in the Sol system, and from a nearby forest world that had massive sequoia trees with steel-hard bark. Knights, for instance, are repurposed forest harvesters.
The Imperium is Mad Max in Space. I found that more interesting and fun than if they are near or on-par with Dark Age technology.
One of the things I struggled with is the corporation (which I never gave a name, as its lost to history) is that it didn't feel like it fit in Warhammer. I've still not wholly reconciled in my own head the difference in tone between the archeotechvault and the Imperium. The excuse of 'Dark Age facility' only goes so far as there is some through line from the Dark Age to the Imperium. For some reason, the science driven society of man flew through space in monolithic, gothic cathedrals, afterall. I might not know or understand that through-line, but it must exist. Surely, someone at GW reconciled the world building and timeline from the Dark Age, through the Age of Strife, to the rise of the Emperor and the Imperium. Right?
Maybe I'm overthinking things. And in the end I just want to share a fun story. So, I'm going to wear it on my arms. The vault has inspirations from Cyberpunk, Battle Angel Alita, Nier, System Shock, pretty much every sci-fi lab in media, and various images that popped up on playlists from a couple Dark Synth/Dark Electro compilation makers. I'm doing a Games Workshop and nothing is safe!
Bwahahaha!
Oh, and I have a map of the facility. It's not a complete map, mind you, but it has the important parts needed for the story. The factory, RnD labs, central processing, and a few other key areas the facility would require to maintain independent operations after 12k-ish years...
Oh... Unrelated subject... Ever heard of a Paperclip Maximiser?
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To quote a very wise robot: well, they're boned.
Thanks for the update
That is very much not Warhammer 40k. And the Dark Age of Technology doesn’t refer to technology being lost, it refers to a straight up humans vs robots super war.
Technology is lost in the 40k universe because the Emperor gave the Mechanicus a monopoly on technology and they destroy information to maintain control.
Okay, the administrator was legitimately creepy. The whole facility is putting off some deeply sinister vibes despite how clean and 'normal' it seems in design compared to the regular gothic feel of 40K.
I can also agree that at times I find the canon lore of 40k to be not as interesting as my headcanon. Particularly around the divinity of the Emperor, my original take was that he was just a powerful warlord who over 10k years of propaganda and mythmaking became the golden god he is now. Though now since there are actual miracles that break the rules of warp-based reality bending implying there is actually something to He Who Sits on Terra. And while the hints that much of his appearance and manner before his stabbing by Horus is a psychic perception filter to make him look and act like whatever gives him more influence (and that the few psychic blanks who met him saw only a normal human) it still stinks of fantastical chosen-one tropes. Which I thought 40K was lampooning. At least he's still an absolute garbage person, even if he's becoming some sort of garbage god in the narrative.
Got some big 'Fallout' and 'Vault Tech' vibes from this chapter. With maybe a little 'Atomic Heart' mixed in.
Sounds like there's either going to be some big nasty mutants or minor daemons showing up to ruin everyone's good time. Maybe a little of both.
I'm glad they're trying to fortify at least. Dorn would approve.
Coincidental timing for the new chapter, the Sister of Battle class DLC was just released for Warhammmer 40,000: Inquistor - Martyr https://store.steampowered.com/app/2138210/Warhammer_40000_Inquisitor__Martyr__Sororitas_Class/
Though the feeling of the other franchise mentioned does linger in this chapter, there is still the feel of grim darkness from the horror of those people trap between life and death that makes it 40k.
Twilight is getting more and more worrisome. I can't say how much her growing madness is due to her trauma from the start of the story or if a certain Chaos God is whispering in her ears.
Anyway, something tells me that next chapter, the bloodbath will start.
11436689
This robot does sound wise, indeed.
11436962
You're welcome.
11437074
I always thought they lost tech in the war, or out-right regressed on purpose in places. Switched to using Servitors, etc.
11437075
Thanks! That is exactly what I was trying to aim for with the administration building.
As for the Emperor, He may have been a man in 30k, but with 10k years of worship and faith He could easily become a God. I mean, a couple worlds going Tau for a few decades and 'worshipping' the Great Good was enough to create a Greater Good warp entity, apparently...
11437122
Dorn would approve of the sentiment, and find the efforts lacking in execution. XD
11437123
I saw that, and had that DLC come out last year I would have redownloaded the game and gotten it. Sadly, took them too long.
11437181
Twilight is Twilight; our adorkable little science nerd. And there in lies the problem...
I'll be honest, and say the bloodbath may commence at the end of the next chapter, but it wont be the focus of it. There is the inner workings of the facility for them to stumble through, and uncover the horrors the vault was hiding inside the mountain.
Seeing this version of the girls being slowly trapped in the corrupted and horrible Imperial Cult is a sad visage
Paperclip maximiser? Abominable intelligence!
11437211
They lost “some” technology in the war (obviously: anything AI related) but most of it survived.
That said, most of the tech wasn’t lost due to the Dark Age, it was mostly lost during the Emperor’s rule/Heresy. Giant flying church tech? Lost during the Heresy. Giant mech tech? Heresy. Hover vehicle tech? Thats not Dark Age tech, that’s Emperor tech. How to make a Space Marine? Emperor tech, studying that is heresy. Etc, etc, etc.
11437239
Indeed, as it should be.
11437287
My understanding of a paperclip maximiser is that it -isn't- an artificial intelligence, which is why its so scary.
11437307
The sad thing is, you are probably right. Which makes the setting so much worse in my opinion. So, I'm going to ignore it just like Frieza would.
11437424
Ehhh… It doesn’t make the setting worse, it just frames it differently.
When I say “lost”, it’s not actually ‘lost’. The Imperium can still rebuild and reinvent things it just chooses not to because “reasons”.
As for Frieza, shrug. This hasn’t really been a Warhammer crossover story for a while now.
11437682
Oh, okay, wow, never expected to see you comment on one of my stories. Thank you very much Wanderer. That means a lot to me. You've been one of my big inspirations in posting stories over these years.
Doing a great job. Interested to see what comes of this. A lot of interesting possibilities. Eldar technology might be interesting. Although Sunset would have to keep it secret. Dawn of war rts games etc... are where most of my Warhammer 40k knowledge comes from personally
11437792
I've played Dawn of War, Inquisitor, and now Darktide. I read a couple of the Guant's Ghosts omnibuses, and an omnibus of the Sisters of Battle. We have a handful of codexes; Sisters of Battle, Genestealers, Spess Mahreens, Blood Angels, and Imperial Knights, to name them. All 8th edition. We also have the Wrath and Glory rulebook. I haven't read all the codexes though.
So, I admit my lore to being rather limited in scope and depth.
11437787 Well, if I somehow remotely helped in some way to bring stories like this one to life, then consider me honored.
11437211
Well this is weird, both Battlesector and Gladius are getting Sisters of Battle DLC too: https://store.steampowered.com/news/app/489630/view/3630493951624029349
Isaac Aurthur made a great video on Paperclip Maximizer.
And here I was hoping theyd merely have to be dealing with a Chaos corrupted DragonLord Spike.
Or Nevelmas.
Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear...
Also, there's something hilarious about Sororitas initiates finding the entirely different breed of soul-crushing that is the corporate office. (And of course more locally conventional soul-crushing can be found if one looks hard enough.
) Eagerly looking forward to seeing just how doomed everyone is, and who manages to make it back.
11443534
Oh, no. No, no, no. No Spike at all in this story, actually. If Twilight had a Spike dog it was left behind on Equis when the planet had it's little Chaos problem.
11444317
Well, I'm anxious about what lies ahead for our plucky little progena.
Took me a while to get to this update, but good to see it! Something doth tell me that one of the girls will end up needing that arm. And that it'll be quite beyond standard replacements. But nothing too crazy, is the noble luxury model, not the military one after all.
Sunset will, sooner or later, learn to listen to her psychic instincts. It'll save many lives, likely hers too. But until then a lot of blood shall follow.
On writing, only through doing more of it does one improve. You do good work, but if you're worried about lack of production try to take one some strategies. Sir Terry Pratchett's, for example, was sitting down and writing something every day. No matter how much it sucked. Edit it later, toss it away, but write. Even just 200 words a day for a month is still some 6,000 by the end of it. At the very least it'll create a habit, and those help a lot when it's something you want to do.
Still love your work either way, so no matter what you choose we'll be here for quite a while still
Ah, Knights aren't harvesters but that's not too far from the truth. They're the Dark Age of Technology (not to be confused with the war against the Man of Iron) equivalent of a varmint gun. A thing you got to your frontier settlements to deal with minor pests such as unruly native fauna and roving Ork bands.
The imperium is a lot of MadMax in space, mostly out of it's own hubris and stupidity. The emps himself, a man of science and reason, would find it abhorrent. Guilimam certainly did when he woke up too.
11453010
Love these detailed comments.
I mean, the arm is an obvious Chekov's Gun. And who says the flow of blood will slow once Sunset can use her magic?
I believe I heard similar stuff about the knights before. Maybe it was an earlier comment on this story, or somewhere else. I just try to logic them out in-setting on why someone would design these things with big grabby claws and chainsaw arms, and forest harvesters for super-redwoods made the most sense.
I re-read more thsn twice, is so good, i need an update
11533542
It's been slow going in writing the next few chapters. I've been having motivation issue coupled with the next chapter needing a second story worth of story-beats laid out and characters that will never be known to the readers as we delve into the vault and hints of what happened to cause it to be sealed are teased.
11535961
I hope you ca solve your motivation issues, but now i am me hype about the next chapter, i will be waiting thanks for your work.
*patiently builds Adepta Sororitas army while waiting for this story to get a new chapter*
11689336
Shouldn't be too long of a wait now.