Operation 5: Paranoia
Sunset Shimmer; Sister of Battle
By Tundara
Operation 5
“Sunset!”
The tearful cry had only just begun to echo within the cavernous stone walls of the cafeteria when Sunset was hit by a wall of springy hair and arms wrapped around her waist in a tight hug. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that it was Pinkie Pie, of all people, who was the first to greet her. The girl didn’t have a mean bone in her body and just wanted to be friends with literally everyone. It was almost sickeningly saccharine.
Wincing, Sunset over emphasised a hissed intake of breath.
“Get off me, I’m fine,” she grumbled as she tried to pry Pinkie off of her, the other girl clinging to her worse than a spider-monkey. It took Rarity grabbing her squadmate by the collar to remove Pinkie.
“Pinkie, darling, at least let Sunset’s squad greet her first,” Rarity sighed with a flip of her hair as she somehow managed to drag Pinkie back to their own table.
Watching them go, Sunset put them both on the top of her ‘List’ of suspects. Her eyes darted over the girls in the cafeteria, at least one of which who’d tried to murder her, and who knew how many others had harboured the idea. Plenty of them glanced back at her with mixtures of apathy, but there was no outright hostility or shock at her presence.
This was troubling. She’d half-hoped that whoever had stabbed her would be clumsy enough to make themselves known when she came back from the medicea ward. As it currently stood, anyone and everyone was a suspect.
She was half-xenos, afterall, in a society that despised the alien.
Her hackles were raised, skin tingling with the sense of being hunted, eyes flickering from face to face as if she could pierce their secrets with a glance.
Even her own squadmates weren’t above suspicion. Except for maybe Fluttershy. It seemed unlikely she’d be involved in stabbing Sunset, and also rescuing her… unless… Unless she’d been caught in the act and merely played the part of tending to Sunset to cover her own deeds.
The other members of her squad stood and greeted her warmly, but this did little to quell the growing suspicions. Anger flashed in Applejack’s emerald eyes and in the lines of her jaw, and she slapped a hand down on Sunset’s shoulder with a heavy thud. Twilight didn’t even look up from her manual on how to maintain and operate the Sororitas' power armour.
“Isn’t it amazing?” She gushed, not noticing Sunset’s presence at all, “This design is four thousand years old, and hasn’t been changed or updated. Even the Adeptus Astartes have gone through revisions of their famed armour! Not the Adeptus Sororitas, though.”
“It’s stupid,” Sunset grumbled, taking an open seat across from Twilight. “How is it possible for there to be no improvements, no evolution or iterations or anything to a key piece of technology? It’s the same everywhere, really. Stagnation at best, decay common, and a dogmatic hatred of even trying to advance.”
Blinking as if she’d just stepped into the full force of the sun after being trapped in a lightless room, Twilight looked up at Sunset with a heavy frown. “Well, while losing our understanding of certain technology is… lamentable, far worse happened because we put our faith in ‘Science’ rather than the God-Emperor.”
Crossing her arms, Sunset leaned back in her chair. This was in part to affect a superior air, but more to find a comfortable position for her sore back. Her wounds were well on the mend, especially considering the Imperium lacked healing magic, but there was an underlying bit of stiffness and tenderness in the regrown tissues. The posture also afforded her a better view of the rest of the room.
“How could they put their faith in the Emperor if he didn’t make himself known until after humanity had almost been destroyed several times over in the Dark Age of Technology?” Sunset countered.
One of the few positives of being a week in bed was an abundance of free time to read.
Read, think, and compare with her former home.
Sunset had already realised the Imperium was incredibly bound to traditions and consverative in nature, but the true scope had eluded her. It had been like looking at a couple trees and deducing that there was a forest nearby, and then turning around to see over a cliff an expanse of green rolling beyond the horizon.
The Imperium wasn’t just conservative by nature, it was hyper-aggressively conservative, actively hunting down and executing anyone who pushed the boundaries under the excuse of ‘Heresy’.
It didn’t help that almost all science and technology fell under the purview of the Cult of the Machine, its name enough to tell anyone with two brain cells to rub together what they’d be like when it came to advancing knowledge. The Scientific Method would be as alien as her ears to the Tech-Priests of the Mechanicum, judging by their names and titles.
Sunset hadn’t met any tech-priests, obviously, even though more than a few had to be on the Righteous Indignation, keeping the ship and the equipment of the Sororitas operational. The servitor golems were probably part of the Mechanicum.
“That’s because—” Twilight’s cheeks puffed up, but she was cut off by Applejack.
“Wouldn’t have mattered back then. Humanity wasn't what it is today, everyone off doing their own thing for the most part. We’ren’t until the Great Crusade that the Emperor unified humanity.”
“It’s not that simple!” Twilight exclaimed. “Some things that seem so simple to one generation gets lost because they just don’t think to preserve the knowledge, because to them it is obvious, or worse yet, they think someone else who manufactured some critical subsystem has the plans. There were some really ancient cogitator systems on Equis that I had to use notes etched into the walls six thousand years ago to activate! And if I didn’t precisely follow them the systems would refuse to work. One cogitator in particular required that I sing a certain lullaby into a specific vox receiver. Why? Who knows. Doesn’t matter. I had to do it or it wouldn’t be operable. The Imperium is going only on inertia so much has been lost. What you suggest is almost impossible and the domain of the Hereteks.”
“Hereteks?” Sunset rolled the unfamiliar term on her tongue, already vaguely anticipating the answer.
“A faction of the Mechanicum that tries to invent new technology. Like Belisarius Cawl,” Twilight gave a half-hearted explanation with a flip of her wrist.
This time it wasn’t Sunset who asked, “Who is that?”
Twilight gaped at Applejack, snorted, and thumbed off her data slate, resigned to getting no more reading done.
“Archmagos Dominus Cawl is a ten-thousand year old techpriest who is pretty much single handedly responsible for designing all the arms and vehicles now being produced for the Adeptus Astartes, as well as waking the Lord Commander of the Imperium, Roboute Guilliman. You know about him, at least?”
“Course I do! Went to the celebrations every year with my granny, just like everyone else.” Applejack defensively crossed her arms. “So he is a big-shot tech priest, this Cawl fellow.”
“‘Big-shot’?” Twilight sputtered incoherently, and Sunset sensed an incoming lecture.
She was not disappointed as Twilight launched into a, frankly, extensive biography of the Archmagos Dominus, and his exploits during the crusades of the previous century. Sunset caught many names, and chalked most of the details to overblown imperial propaganda, but it was interesting nevertheless.
“How do you know all that stuff?” Rainbow asked towards the end as a breathless Twilight leaned forward as if the other girls should be impressed. “I mean, really. Were you some tech-priest person or something?”
Blushing, Twilight looked away. “Equestria had only two tech-priests for the entire planet. And they were, by the Throne, idiots. Put on the planet because Equestria wasn’t important and they couldn’t do much harm on it. So a lot of stuff fell to other departments.”
“So, you are a mini-mechanicus, then?” Rainbow tilted her head.
“No! I just know the cogitators used by my mom, but the principles can be applied elsewhere.”
Joining in, Sunset put on a teasing grin. “Sounds like she’s a mechanicus to me, too.”
“Urgh! No!”
“Um, please, let’s not argue,” Fluttershy mumbled, but everyone ignored her.
Sunset was rather interested in the conversation and learning more about the leadership of the Imperium as a whole.
As the conversation evolved, shifted, and bounced between various topics covering techno-heresy, ‘innovation’, Lord Commander Day celebrations, and an odd diversion into the merits of cupcakes versus muffins, Sunset also kept her eyes scanning the other girls in the hall. She found it relatively easy to manage both the conversation, chipping in here and there, as well as assessing if there were any threats in the room.
It was a little frightening how she was able to manage both tasks.
“You know, it’s kinda creepy how you do that,” Applejack stated, drawing Sunset’s attention away from the room at large.
“Creepy?” Sunset repeated with a deep frown.
“The way you move. Ain’t right. Too…” SHe fumbled for a word, and settled on, “strange.”
“Makes you seem like you are really an aeldar,” Rainbow chipped in. “Rather than just, you know.” She gestured to her ears.
Touching her ears, Sunset looked away. As if she needed the reminder of how different she was from everyone else. For a very brief moment she’d almost thought that, maybe, just maybe, her squad hadn’t been involved in her attempted murder.
She continued to stew on her growing paranoia for a few more days.
It could be anyone, so she had to suspect everyone. There was no telling who wanted her dead. Worse, it didn’t have to be a single person. For all she knew, everyone had a knife waiting in the dark, and the attempt on the ship had merely been the first of many.
The best idea was to distance herself. Keep a wall between her and even her squad so she could watch them.
At meals she sat with her back to the wall, an empty chair between her and the next person. Everywhere she went she took to the corners, eyes darting and fingers tense in case she had to defend herself.
After daily prayers as the class was filing towards the shooting range, Sunset hung back a little.
“Drill Abbess, have there been any discoveries on who tried to kill me?”
Drill Abbess Maria cooly looked at Sunset. “Yes. A crewmember of the Righteous Indignation was found having smashed his head after falling down a service shaft connected to where you were attacked. Blood on his hands and the knife used to stab you indicates he was the attacker. Probably saw you and acted on impulse.”
Maria’s tone indicated that follow-up questions were not permitted, and Sunset made the symbol of the aquila and hurried on her way.
The answer was wholly unsatisfying.
A crewmember of the ship? Who managed to sneak up on her? And the voice, purposefully raspy, had been that of a girl or woman. And for them to then conveniently slip down a service shaft?
Gritting her teeth, Sunset went to the shooting range and hefted the practice rifle. Her shots were sloppy that day, and the next.
Frustrations mounted.
A Crewmember? As if she’d ever believe such an obvious deception.
Whoever had tried to kill her had killed the crewmember when they realised she’d survived their initial attack in order to cover their tracks. At least this meant they’d been a bit desperate.
They would try again. Of that Sunset held no doubts.
The gnawing paranoia began to affect all aspects of her life in the schola. She had trouble concentrating in class, even with her prodigious ability to multitask. Applejack and Rainbow Dash both routinely took her to the mat in hand-to-hand lessons. Her voice very nearly faltered a couple times during prayers. Shadows grew darker, longer, in the hallways, as if they were about to swallow her.
Sleep, when it came, was troubled.
Some nights she was visited by visions of her plummet through the Warp. Others had her surrounded by her squad and the rest of the scholla, jeering and shouting that they knew her secrets before they started throwing stones at her. The worst, however, were those where she relived the moment the long knife tore through her back and lung. No matter the nightmares, she woke in cold sweats.
Aware she was spiralling, Sunset had no one she could turn to for support.
All she could do was attempt to bury her emotions.
The opportunity came as the next week, they had a three day exercise to test their field skills.
To everyone’s shock, and immediate worry, Drill Abbess Maria remained behind at the dock, and instead placed Spitfire in charge. Spitfire was as rigid as one of the statues in the fortress, and took a package with their orders with reverential care. She read them quickly, made the sign of the aquila to the drill abbess, and then ordered the progena to march. A number of servo-skulls buzzed around them, optics whirring as they recorded the girls for later evaluations.
The exercise combined hiking across a neighboring mountainous island, loaded down with a full kit of gear, that was followed by shooting, and then a return march.
Imitating the Drill Abbess, Spitfire barked orders, spurred on laggards, and offered sharp rebukes if the girls started to get too high spirited. The latter issue was rare after the first few hours.
It was hot and grueling in the planetary summer sun, and the girls were all exhausted under the weight of their gear. Bugs buzzed around them in thick clouds that got in their mouths and eyes. Boots sank into soft, loamy soil broken by swathes of uneven, jagged lava flows. The foliage was thick, and the air heavy with a musty scent of strange pollen. Sweat ran in thick rivulettes beneath the heavy body armour they had to wear.
The weapons and armour were nothing like those even supplied to the Guard, barely more than a flak vest with a ceramite plate that chafed against their shoulders. They slung crosswise over their shoulders their ancient model autoguns, heads bent forward as if making penance.
Some spirits returned as camp was set on the first night. Around a few small cooking fires, anything larger vetoed by ‘Progena Superior’ Spitfire, as the girls snidely took to calling her, they shared ghost stories as they ate their bland ready made meals.
Using a two-hour system of watches, they bedded down and caught as much sleep as possible.
Sunset was yawning the next day, her squad given a watch in the middle of the night. The nightmare continued to plague her, stealing what little rest she could have otherwise managed.
After a quick breakfast, camp was broken, and the march resumed.
Noon approached, and they were still making their way up the mountain, cutting along a wide trail at the base of a tall cliff of jagged volcanic rocks that had poured down like a waterfall tens of thousands of years earlier.
At the front of the line, Spitfire consulted her orders with a pinched brow, looking up and around for landmarks. She sent Misty Fly up a tree, and when her squadmate called back down to her, Spitfire looked relieved. Keying the bead for her vox unit, she sent the order to head out. A few minutes later they left the cliff behind as they passed through tall trees, down a short slope, and to the edge of a large glade with a pool to one side. A sulphuric stench wafted from the waters, warning everyone to stay away.
“Everyone down low and weapons out,” Spitfire ordered.
Sunset unslung her autogun and checked the breech. Around her the other members of her squad did the same, Twilight double checking her clip of paint loaded training rounds.
On their stomachs they crawled out into the grass. Sunset narrowed her eyes, her enhanced sight catching humanoid shapes in the shaded treeline on the far side of the glade.
A couple hundred feet away were dozens of mannequins painted green, with large, crude weapons held over their heads. Rising to their knees, the girls raised their autoguns.
At Spitfire’s command, Sunset squeezed off a pair of shots. The first went wide, the practice round splatting off a tree behind her target. The other clipped the target’s helmet, a silver bowl with large horns that spun around like a top. Cursing, Sunset adjusted her aim and shot again, this time landing a hit on the top edge of the target rings placed over the chest.
To her left was a sudden bang, followed by a scream as Pinkie Pie was hurled through the air. Arms spinning, eyes wide with shock, she came down with a heavy thud several meters away from where the rest of Rarity Squad was set up. A moment of deafening silence followed, broken only by Pinkie’s moans as everyone tried to process what had just happened.
Black armoured bodies burst from the trees on the left and right, raising bolters to their shoulders as they ran. Several grenades were flung high and landed among the progena, cracking with sharp bangs and flashes that left those near disoriented, ears ringing and blind.
Sunset’s eyes widened as several voices rang out together, “Ambush!”
Dumbstruck, Spitfire stood near the treeline they’d left, mouth moving up and down as she tried to process what was happening. Bedlam claimed the glade, the progena scattering before the twenty charging figures. Shots rang out, the sharp cracking of the autoguns mingling with the deep roars of the bolters. Dashing to the side, Rarity skidded next to Pinkie, and from there quickly rallied the others of her squad. They were among the few.
Sunset’s squad fractured in disunity.
Twilight tried to belly crawl towards a shallow dip in the grass, leaving the others behind, while Applejack just charged ahead with an angry roar. Fluttershy dropped her gun and covered her head, muttering incoherently as she scrunched up her eyes. Rainbow was next to her in an instant, pushing Fluttershy down while shouting to Sunset, “Orders? What are your orders? Sunset!”
Tongue glued to the top of her mouth, Sunset could only stare as Applejack reached the charging line, and threw herself into a tackle around one of the attacker’s midsections. She was stopped cold, as if she’d tried grabbing a tank. Blood sprayed from Applejack’s nose as she was elbowed in the face. A quick knee to her chest doubled her over, and a well placed butt of a bolter to the back of the head sent her to the dirt where she remained, unmoving.
Head spinning Sunset, didn’t know what to do or say. Instead, she raised her rifle towards the closest attacker, squeezed the trigger, and a shot splattered against a pauldron. They’re wearing power armour, she belatedly realised. Thumbing the switch for full-auto, Sunset emptied her clip. The attacker didn’t even slow down. A bloom of orange surrounded the muzzle of the bolter leveled at Sunset, and the next instant there was a crushing impact on her chest as she was hurled off her feet.
Winded, chest bruised, Sunset laid on her back unable to move, mind whirling on why she wasn’t little pieces of gore splattered around the grass. A direct hit from a bolter should have obliterated her, even with the flak vest.
For several more seconds there were the sounds of autogun fire intermingled with the bolters. Then the autoguns went silent, one by one.
Heavy boots approached Sunset, and the sun was blotted out by an armoured head with glowing blue eyes. Belatedly, Sunset realised that she was looking up at some training power armour. Splotches of pink paint covered the thigh, torso, and left shoulder. Depressing a switch under her chin, the dark figure opened her face plate to reveal a girl from the senior year.
“You lot did well for only being twelve cycles old. You alive, newbie?” She asked, strands of golden hair sticking to the side of her face as she grinned broadly. The look was brief, her gaze narrowing as she focused on Sunset’s ears. “You’re the xenos everyone is talking about. Throne preserve us; you aren’t just a tall tale.”
“Mirabella, stop conversing with the enemy,” called another senior girl.
After staring at Sunset for another uncomfortably long few seconds, Mirabella sealed her helmet and marched off.
Anger burning, Sunset sat up slowly and looked around. Here and there the members of her class wandered around in a daze, some supporting each other, a few were on their knees sobbing as they cradled broken arms. Calls for help rebounded across the glade. Rarity was bent over Pinkie, hands over her friend’s chest as she applied first aid. With a gasp, Pinkie shot upright, almost smacking her forehead into Rarity’s chin.
“Wowzers, what a rush!” Pinkie grinned broadly, got to her feet, and only then noticed she was missing half her left hand where the explosion had sheared it off. “Oh, that is not okie dokie at all.”
While Red Heart applied some antiseptics and bandages, Rarity nearly sobbed, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, Pinkie. Now, let’s get you to a medic.”
Among the black armoured seniors were a couple of Hospitaller novices, and they went along providing far better treatment than the simple field dressings of the progena. One look at Pinkie, however, and the hospitaller said, “You’ll live,” before moving along.
“Right! Form up!” Roared the senior that had told off Mirabella, taking over from the shamed Spitfire, and leading the two classes back down the mountain.
It was closer to a prisoner procession, though the junior class kept all their heavy gear. The younger progena had outnumbered their seniors five to one, and the rout had still been total. Sunset couldn’t just place it on the superior equipment the seniors used. It certainly accounted for some of the difference, but they’d quickly pinned their targets in a fierce cross-fire and utterly destroyed any sort of command structure or discipline. That had been the real factor in the crushing defeat.
Sunset wasn’t alone in thinking over the ambush, every girl stewing in their thoughts as they hiked down the mountain, or carried the couple of invalides.
“Throne, Sunset, you need to get it together,” Rainbow snapped, running her fingers through matted hair the next morning as they broke camp. The docks were still several miles away, and they had to make up the time with bruised bodies.
“I did fine!” Sunset countered, but the words felt hollow in her mouth. She’d done anything but ‘fine’. They’d been a disorganised mess. “I managed to hit one of them, at least.”
“Not what I meant,” Rainbow growled dangerously. “We needed your orders, and you just flaked out.”
“Hate to say it, but she’s right.” In the shade of a tree, Applejack leaned forward to pour a bottle of water over her thick blonde hair. Whipping it back so that the water soaked into the back of her thin shirt, Applejack began checking over her practice autogun. “You’ve been worse than even on the Righteous Indignation, and it’s affected all of us. We ain’t no squad, just a bunch of blundering idiots.”
“Don’t know what the Drill Abbess sees in her,” Rainbow continued as she got up to leave and check on Fluttershy and Twilight. “Sunset is just dragging the rest of us down now, where she used to at least be able to hold her own. We need an actual squad leader.”
Anger flared, and Sunset had to fight hard against jumping at Rainbow. She knew Rainbow was right. Her performance for the past few weeks since leaving the hospital ward had been pathetic,
Gritting her teeth, Sunset growled, “I’ll do better. I’ll be better than even you.”
Snatching up her autogun, Sunset joined the other girls getting ready for the remaining trek back to the docks, and the water based craft that would return them to the schola.
Stats
Page generated in 0.041 seconds
Total duration
1,042 users online
1,735,764 hits today, 2,561,572 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Huh. THIS sounds realy promissing. Can't wait to give it a try after the P&P session
Cripes, Sunset really got screwed up.
Don't know what kind of tech they've got, but is Pinkie going to get that hand regrown, or is it going to be replaced with a prosthetic.
The conversation between Sunset and Twilight was helpful. Now I know we are during the Indomitus era.
This also further help believing the Sororitas taking in Sunset despise her Eldarii features. Even if they still distrust Eldars, they must have at least have a modicum of a debt of gratitude towards the Ynnari and the Harlequinns for bringing back to life one of the Emperor's children and helping him going back to Holly Terra.
10818513
Regrown. There are local planetary culture reasons more than technical ones that will, (I hope) be slowly revealed.
10818517
In part, in part. It certainly didn't hurt. But there is still deeply ingrained distrust towards the aeldar. And I don't know how much the average citizen would even know of their involvement. Its the kind of thing a deeply religious and xenophobic society would wipe out of history.
I'm kind of a fan of Bobby G x Yvraine ship, not gunna lie. Now, that is a bit too heretical to make an appearance in this story, and the whole upper echelon of galactic politics is a bit beyond the purview of this particular story. It was mostly to get a very firm timestamp of when this story takes place. I just think the idea of the 'ship is 'neat'.
10818441
My biggest concern is not living up to the potential of the story.
Ah, so Rowboat Girlyman is awake and the Chad Marines are around. Timeline established!
Sunset is getting either too paranoid or not paranoid enough. She should be trying to play it off like she isn't being overly cautious? Maybe? Not sure.
That ambush was brutal though... and they used LIVE explosives on them? Oh right... this is the Sisters of Battle. Having to get an Augmetic Hand is good character building.
10818845
The Chad Marines is very appropriate...
I've been working on a conversation today that will open up a large part of the planet's culture. It'll create a lot of questions though that people will have to wait for answers though. 
But, that's kind of my goal with it. Big ol' swath of ground work for later chapters.
10818969
I am terabad at spelling it just caught my eye good story so far though
Considering Big E‘s ideals and goals, this sentence is absolutely hilarious and sad at the same time.
10819400
Indeed. Big E will have a Big Sad when(if?) he gets his bony butt off his throne.
10818625
Definitly! I need more and I need it now!
*throws cookies and purity seals at the otter*
10819670
The mood of 'Disappointed Dad has to fix his children's problems and f*ck-ups' will probably be enough to either kill or create a chaos god.
And, in this universe, downright dangerous.
(Angry screeching in Binary)
Yeah, the girls really need to pin Sunset down and force her to confront her own trust issues. If they don't, the full-fledged Sisters will, and I don't see that ending well at all. Fluttershy, you're up. This calls for delicacy.
Looking forward to more.
So from what I read of the last chapter we have some dark eldar stabbing about or something and it stabbed Sunny right in the chest. Now Sunsets seeing would be assassins everywhere including her own squad and, that right there is a very bad thing. If someone can't trust the people who they are to go into combat with it could lead to as we saw the whole squad getting wiped out.
Otherwise love the story and keep up the good work mate.
I feel like maybe another chapter or two of Sunset around this current time to see if she manages to overcome her paranoia instead of skipping ahead might be useful.
This is why I like the lore of Battletech more these days. Empires wax and wane, technology levels go up and down, the wars actually have effects on the economy, which has effects on mech designs.
while I'm talking battltech; fuck the clans. Comstar for life.
PS: and fuck that warp-squirrel Cawl. The gathering storm's effect on the lore of 40k has been almost as bad as Fantasy's the End Times.
11691408
Agreed. I overall prefer Battletech. It was one of my earliest gaming experiences with Mechwarrior and The Crescent Hawk's Revenge. I read the original Clan Invasion books, and still stan Clan Ghost Bear. My brother is a Smoke Jaguar fan. He has never fully recovered...
The Battle of Tukayyid is such a farce though. The whole writing for the end of that invasion is a travesty. The clans were written like slobbering idiots throughout the Clan Invasion arc.