Black Horizons

by SFaccountant

Shore Leave

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 12
Shore Leave

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Harvest of Steel
Deck C-20 – Trixie’s quarters

Trixie’s ears twitched as a loud buzzing noise came from the door. She moaned and rolled onto her back, and then lifted up the sleep mask over her face, stretching it to hang against her horn. The lumens in her quarters were on but dimmed, allowing her eyes to adjust quickly to the gloom. Next to the door, a red bar lumen blinked repeatedly.

Trixie groaned and lifted herself upright. “Who desires an audience with the Great and Powerful Trixie? And is there any way this could wait until morning?” she called to the door, fighting down a yawn that threatened to interrupt mid-sentence.

“It is I, Lady Trixie.” Serith’s voice came from the hall. “Would you prefer I address you at a later time?”

Trixie arched an eyebrow, and then looked across the room. Suuna had her own cot on the opposite wall, and she was scrambling to get up now that she knew who it was. Trixie threw off her covers and then dropped onto the deck.

“Suuna, get dressed. Trixie will handle this,” the unicorn declared, trotting to the front door. Her assistant nodded gratefully and rushed for the metal locker that acted as her dresser.

Trixie paused in front of the door and activated her horn, removing the sleeping mask and making a quick attempt to style her mane. Then she tapped the pad under the door lock to open it. The metal barrier – tastefully decorated with a poster of a flailing pony on a branch under the words “Hang in there!” – slid into the bulkhead. Serith stood in the hallway, as expected. He was unarmed, or at least as unarmed as the battle psyker could be; his force halberd was absent.

“Lord Serith! Hello! What an unexpected visit!” Trixie said, leaning to one side to check if anyone else was behind him. “You ARE Serith, right? Not Chrysalis playing dumb games with her shapeshifting?”

“I am Serith, yes. High Sorcerer of the 38th Company ever since I was offered up as livestock by my former masters, the Thousand Sons,” he explained, sharing an aspect of his life that Chrysalis was extremely unlikely to know. “I wish to speak to you. In private, ideally, but I suppose I can endure the presence of your slave.”

“My ASSISTANT is just making herself presentable,” Trixie replied, glancing back into the room. Suuna had finished putting on her blouse and was combing her hair, trying to avoid looking at the hulking suit of armor at the door. “Come in and make yourself at home.”

Trixie’s quarters in the flagship were much like her dwelling in Ferrous Dominus. Sterile metal walls were papered over with posters that she had used to advertise her show, drawings, little trophies scavenged from battlefields, and the odd arcane scroll unrolled and pinned in place. Her hat was hung on a peg near the back, and her power armor helmet on a peg next to it. The rest of the wargear was sitting below it, the suit’s torso frame unfolded and yawning open like a discarded molting.

“What did you want to talk about, Serith?” Trixie walked over to Suuna’s bunk and sat down in front of it. Then her assistant sat down on the bunk and started brushing Trixie’s coat while the unicorn waited.

Serith closed the door, and then crossed his arms over his chest. The Sorcerer didn’t look Trixie in the eyes, gathering his thoughts for a full minute before he began.

“It is time I told you what occurred on Ulaisse,” Serith said, still staring at the wall. “In the time between our disastrous landing and your waking below the Destiny Cube…“

“Still surprised that caught on. It’s not even a cube,” Trixie mumbled after Serith trailed off.

“… you were under the control of another,” Serith finally admitted. “I noticed the possession and confronted it, but I failed to stop it. Then it erased part of your memories and left you.”

Suuna’s brushing slowed to a stop, and she stared at the Iron Warrior in confusion. Trixie simply arched an eyebrow.

“What are you talking about? Under the control of what?” Trixie asked.

“A daemon,” Serith answered. Suuna flinched slightly, her eyes wide.

Trixie’s expression didn’t change. “Explain further.”

“When you breached the veil of the Empyrean completely, seizing the necessary power to ease our landing, you were possessed,” Serith explained, his tone unusually tense. “This was no random assault from a Warp beast pouncing on an unwary psyker. The daemon was waiting for your overreach, and it attached itself to you quietly. It slowly overwhelmed your waking mind, and then followed the rest of us into the ruin while acting as you would. To the best of its meager ability, at least.”

“Trixie was under the impression daemonic possessions were not so subtle,” the unicorn mused aloud.

“They rarely are. Again, this was a calculated effort, not unfortunate happenstance,” the Sorcerer continued. “Nonetheless, I confirmed my suspicions and followed you when you left the rest of the group. When the daemon refused to abandon its vessel, I attacked. This is why you were wounded when you were found beside the Destiny Cube.”

Trixie’s other eyebrow arched. Suuna likewise stared at Serith in open disbelief. He hardly needed to read their minds to figure out their thoughts: Neither of them believed Trixie could have escaped Serith if he really wanted the unicorn dead, regardless of her possession or wargear.

“After you escaped, the daemon brought you to the artifact ahead of the rest of the group, apparently evading any Genestealers skulking about the cult. It then abandoned you there, infiltrating the Destiny Cube,” Serith explained.

“Do you know why?” Trixie asked.

“It was to set a trap for Princess Sparkle,” he replied. “It very nearly worked. A few days ago she joined with the artifact in an attempt to divine its secrets. Only the exhaustive preparations of Hierophant Mantis allowed her to survive. Equinought Squadron was badly injured as a result.”

Trixie placed a hoof to her chin and furrowed her brow under her horn. Suuna went back brushing her, but she looked at the pony with grave concern. Serith continued staring at the wall, feeling utterly ridiculous.

What was he even waiting for? He had told the mare the truth. He had laid his latest error bare. Was he really going to stand in the corner waiting for some ignorant xeno weakling to pass judgment upon him?

“You knew about the daemon, right? Being in the Destiny Cube,” Trixie asked, her eyes narrowing, “but you didn’t tell anyone. Why?”

“It is not the way of Sorcerers to share knowledge,” he replied with a snort.

Trixie didn’t look impressed by the response. “Come on. You’re telling Trixie you watched Sparkle dive into a monster assassin’s clutches out of habit? Even if you didn’t want to tell them anything, there were lots of ways to manipulate events to avoid it. Why didn’t you?”

The eye lenses of Serith’s helmet pulsed. His irritation grew. Invisible power snaked around his gauntlets, begging to be unleashed and scour away the fools that would witness his humiliation. He raised an arm and watched as tiny motes of light rose from the tips of his fingers like embers floating from a fire.

“It was my idea,” Serith confessed. “I taught Hierophant Mantis the necessary rituals to send Princess Sparkle into the Destiny Cube because I thought the daemon would not expect such an intrusion and its machinations would be exposed.” He closed his hand into a fist, feeling the energy seeping through his gauntlets trickle away. “It had never occurred to me that Sparkle herself would be the target, that such a circuitous plot would aim merely to end the life of a single pony.”

“Now it all makes sense,” Trixie said with a small sigh.

“I cannot agree,” the Sorcerer grumbled. “For Sparkle to be the direct target of daemonic minds defies reason.”

“Well it is called ‘Chaos.’ Maybe there is no reason,” Trixie shrugged.

“That is the simple answer, yes. That this is an act of pure malice, unusual only in its degree of calculation. I do not believe it,” Serith replied. “Chaos is never so careful in its capricious murders. Very few creatures, mortal or otherwise, catch the eye of daemons. Yet Sparkle has been targeted. This is, as I understand it, the third separate occasion on which the Warpspawned have attempted to slay her.” He shook his head. “These creatures want her dead with an intensity and forethought uncommon for daemons. This was no sport, no rapturous bloodletting to amuse the killers. She is their enemy, not their prey. But I do not know why.”

“It is weird, isn’t it?” Trixie mumbled. “For one thing, you guys worship Chaos, so if Chaos wants a pony dead, couldn’t they just tell you to shoot her and be done with it?”

“No. That is not how it works,” the Sorcerer replied blithely. “Chaos Space Marines do not answer to any Warp denizen who calls upon us. Only under specific conditions, or at the behest of the Gods themselves, would we serve in such a manner. And even in the latter case, it would depend on which God.” A snort came from the empty helmet. “Were Tzeentch to petition me directly for Princess Sparkle’s head, I would relish the chance to defy him.”

“But wouldn’t Tzeentch have predicted that and arranged a trap that depended on your violent opposition to his aims? The Changer of Ways wouldn’t really ask you for help and expect you to just do what he wanted, right?” Suuna asked.

Serith turned to stare silently at Trixie’s assistant. She swallowed nervously and returned to brushing Trixie.

“ANYWAY,” the unicorn said loudly, forestalling further discussion of Tzeentch’s methods, “Trixie gets it. You were trying to finesse the situation from the outside. You prepared the wrong plan, and somepony nearly died because of it. Trixie knows what THAT’S like,” she scoffed.

“You… You do?” Suuna asked, moving on to her tail.

“It’s not like Can’naan made it easy either, and in the end he failed, right? So no harm, no foul,” Trixie assured the hulking psyker.

“Wasn’t there a lot of harm?” Suuna asked, her forehead creasing, “Lord Serith said-“

“Silence,” Serith commanded, stepping closer to her and Trixie. “Lady Trixie, what did you say?”

“Trixie just thinks you shouldn’t beat yourself up over miscalculating, here. Although you should really just tell Trixie when-“

“Not that. You said something odd. A name?”

Trixie paused uncertainly. Her eyes seemed to glaze over, and her horn flickered with light like a broken lumen. “… Can’naan. That’s… That’s its name. Trixie remembers now.”

Serith dropped into a crouch in front of the unicorn, holding an open palm above her head as if to shield it. “What else? What did this creature leave in the recesses of your mind?”

“Can’naan the Forsaken. Denied. Outcast,” Trixie said, her voice sounding distant and her gaze distracted. “The strategy. A beacon in the dark, crying for help. Distressed souls, reaching into the Empyrean with desperate need. Fear. Pain. Hope. Seize it. Break it. KILL IT.”

“Mistress?” Suuna whimpered, leaning back from the blue pony.

“It… It was all to kill her. Can’naan was chosen because it was weak. It could seize a pony body without destroying it and alerting witnesses. Smart enough to grasp the subtleties of the plot. To reach the lure before HE could. To extinguish the light.” Trixie continued speaking, her voice slowly returning to its usual cadence and her eyes blinking away the visions flashing through her brain with alarming intensity.

“What is this light?” Serith demanded.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Trixie answered immediately. “She has been marked for death. Can’naan did not come up with this strategy. It was just told of the path. A hundred thousand futures, narrowing to a single point like a dagger’s tip. And… A-And…”

Trixie’s voice started to break, as if she was taken by a rising panic. Serith leaned even closer, the lens of his helmet visor inches from Trixie’s bright purple eyes. “And what? What told Can’naan of this plot? Why did it seek Sparkle’s head?”

Trixie’s eyes dilated. “W-Wait… No… It’s…” She screamed in pain, suddenly leaping up on her hind legs and flailing in a panic. Her horn practically exploded with light, blinding Suuna with its intensity and building up a tremendous halo of magic power around her head.

Suuna grabbed Trixie around her waist, pulling the mare into a hug even as the horrifying shriek intensified. Serith took a second to adjust his visual autosenses, and then his hand lashed out, seizing Trixie’s horn. A ferocious crackle came from the contact, as well as a sharp hiss as the metal gauntlet rapidly heated up.

“Yet another useless ploy!” Serith snarled. The Psykant Occulus split open behind his wrist, and trembling dispersal rods emerged and started spewing mist into the air. The magic light dimmed and arcs of power whipped around his gauntlet as the device rapidly drained the magic energy bleeding from Trixie’s horn. “You’ll get nothing from us, coward! Not one more soul!!”

For ten agonizing seconds the tormented mare kept screaming, her breath slowly petering out. Trixie’s horn seemed to falter at the same rate, the glow and energy surge slowly receding. Then the performer gasped, her eyes rolling up into her head while smoke curled all around her. Her body fell limp into Suuna’s arms, and then Serith slowly opened his fist. The gauntlet was charred from the discharge, but the Occulus was still functional.

“She’s still breathing! Oh, thank goodness!” Suuna cried, utterly terrified and confused while she stroked the unicorn’s ears. “Is she okay? Did her power burn her mind out?”

“It tried to. A parting gift from our friend Can’naan,” Serith spat, slowly standing up. “With a Warp surge of that degree, it would have taken us with it.”

The Psykant Occulus slowly retracted the glowing, glassy rods into the compartments within his vambrace. “She is harmed, but the damage is limited. I will see her to the medicae.”

Serith held out his hands. Suuna picked Trixie up, cradling her on her back. She stared at Serith’s outstretched arms, glanced down at the pony curled up in her arms, and then looked up at Serith with an arched eyebrow.

“You… want to carry her? Through the ship?”

The Sorcerer immediately dropped his arms to his side, turned away sharply, and walked to the door. “Never mind; I see you do not struggle with her weight. Follow me, slave.”

Serith opened the door and rushed into the hall. Suuna followed him, still cradling Trixie in her arms.

---

Harvest of Steel
Medicae bay 2-7 C

Claret Hearthrob nodded absently to herself as she stared at a monitor screen on the wall. It displayed an internal scan of a pegasus body, with all the bones outlined in bright green and notes drawn to key points in red and blue. The pony’s wings were spread, and every few seconds the visual model would spin around by 180 degrees to give a different view.

“All the bones are green, right? That means I’m cured. All the stuff on my visor is green when it’s fine.” Rainbow Dash was behind the doctor, laying on an observation bed. There were several old bandages on a table next to her, having been cut loose after the scan was taken.

“That does not mean you’re cured, no,” Claret drawled. “These cogitators are content when they find no gaping holes in your bones, but my job is a little more sensitive than that.”

Rainbow groaned. “Come onnnnn! It’s been days since the lab accident! If I’m not cleared soon I’m gonna have to sit out our next mission!”

“That’s the point, yes,” Claret said blithely. “You and Princess Sparkle have endured much deeper injury than the others, so I’m not clearing you for combat duty until you’ve recovered fully from the concussion. Sorry, concussions, plural.”

Rainbow Dash growled, the feathers quivering around her wings. Claret was not obviously bothered by the reaction.

“Also, I want to have you evaluated psychologically as well. You’ve been damaged in ways that Equestria’s understanding of medicine cannot address, and I’d like to spend a little more time on it before the Warsmith hurls you back into a battle zone.”

“Evaluated psychologically?! What does that even mean?” Rainbow asked irritably.

“It means-“ Claret Heartthrob was interrupted by the door, which emitted a brief horn buzzer before opening.

The doctor recoiled and blinked rapidly in surprise at seeing Serith step inside the apothecarion. This was not the medicae bay for Astartes patients, and anyway her understanding was that Serith was a bodiless suit of armor animated by psychic will. She had to imagine he was quite immune to any physical ailment or medically treatable injury. The situation made more sense once Suuna stepped around him; she was carrying Trixie in her arms, with the unicorn’s head lying on her shoulder.

“What happened? Is she unconscious?” Claret asked, turning toward a panel on the wall and flipping a switch with her magic.

Suuna nodded anxiously. “Yes, but she’s still breathing. Her mind was-“

A section of the bulkhead wall slid out into the room like a drawer, revealing another examination bed in it. Claret walked up to the controls and tapped a few buttons, registering the bed for emergency use and preparing a simple preliminary scan. Then she turned back around, uncertain why the girl had stopped talking mid-sentence.

Suuna seemed to be frozen in time, her mouth still open as if paused while forming a word. Serith had his arm raised, a single finger extended to touch the back of her head. Rainbow Dash shuddered and stood up on her bed, scowling at the Sorcerer.

“Lord Serith, whatever it is you’re doing to that poor woman, I do hope she can breathe in that state,” Claret said angrily.

“This will not take long,” he replied, the lenses of his helmet pulsing.

A metallic clang rang out through the room and then a surgical tray smacked into Serith’s arm, budging it away from Suuna’s head. She immediately continued forward again, as if unfrozen, but then stopped and swayed in place while blinking in confusion.

Serith rounded on Rainbow Dash, who was hovering next to a chirurgeon shelf. “How bold of you, flying vermin! Do you suppose that our recent venture together means I will not tear your mind open?” His tone sounded almost jovial, but purple flame appeared in his palm and started to swell around the rest of the gauntlet.

“Hey! HEY! NO FIGHTING IN THE APOTHECARION!!” Claret cried, her tail sticking straight up and electric sparks buzzing around the chain on her horn. “Dash, get back to your observation bed! Lord Serith, extinguish that wychfire THIS INSTANT! You, girl! Put Miss Great and Whatever on the bed I just opened!”

Rainbow and Suuna hurried to comply, but Serith held onto his fireball while he tracked the pegasus across the room.

“Lord Serith, are you REALLY going to make me clean up another corpse in here?” Claret asked, her tone going from incensed to exasperated.

“… No. I would hate to distract you from your more important work, Medicae.” The Sorcerer finally closed his hand back into a fist, and the dark, smoldering flames receded without a trace.

Claret looked very relieved to see the psychic energies vanish, and then she turned around to address Suuna. Trixie’s assistant was laying the mare on the observation bed, being very careful to support her head.

“So what happened? I’m seeing burn marks on her horn,” Claret asked. “They don’t look like contact burns, and I’m not see similar damage in the surrounding mane.”

“Well, Mistress Trixie-“ Suuna started to speak, only for the unicorn surgeon to interrupt immediately.

“I’d prefer to hear an explanation from Lord Serith. No offense, Miss, but I feel like it would be less… complicated that way.” Claret Heartthrob stared expectantly at the towering suit of power armor standing before the entrance.

Serith approached, his greaves rattling loudly against the deck. A wall of red light was sweeping over Trixie’s unconscious body, and a holo-screen opened up above the bed to display the scan results. He stared at the unicorn silently, and Trixie whimpered softly in her sleep.

“… This was a daemon attack,” he admitted at last.

Claret’s eyes widened in surprise. “Daemon?! But this-“

“It was not a conventional daemon attack, obviously,” Serith continued, crossing his arms over his chest. “This daemon did not rend her flesh, but tore at her thoughts instead. It was the source of the… ‘stroke’ you detected earlier, as well. It is long gone, but the harm it inflicted persists.”

“I KNEW it wasn’t a blood clot!” Claret growled through clenched teeth, rushing to the cogitator. “Everything about that tissue damage seemed off! Of course we all suspected you of doing it, but nobody could figure out WHY…”

“Of course you did,” Serith said, shrugging the bulbous shoulder pads of his armor. “It was the most logical conclusion given that I confessed to inflicting her other wounds.”

“Do you wanna explain that, by the way?” Rainbow asked.

“No.”

Claret withdrew a vial of some kind of gel from a storage freezer between her hooves. Then she shook it for several seconds before carefully holding it up right in front of her horn tip. Her horn started to glow, and then there was a sharp sizzle as the contents of the vial were rapidly heated.

“Miss, could you lift the Great and Powerful one so that her head is upright, please?” Claret asked, switching spells to levitate the vial.

“Of course, Miss Apothecary,” Suuna said, reaching over the examination bed to pull Trixie into her arms again.

“That’s DOCTOR, if you please,” Claret requested while she trotted over. “I realize that nearly half of my medical knowledge and experience became horribly outdated and irrelevant with the arrival of space people, but I didn’t spend eight years in university to be called an ‘apothecary,’ thank you. Now hold her still.”

The surgeon uncorked the vial and levitated it up against Trixie’s nose, forcing the other mare to inhale it. Wisps of a thick yellow gas floated up over her muzzle, and Claret tapped the cogitator while she kept the vial hovering in place.

“That should stop any further degradation of the nerve pathways and help them recover faster. She may talk a little funny and have trouble remembering names for a week or so but she’ll be okay,” Claret assured Suuna and Serith.

“You didn’t give ME any medicine when I told you I had psychic brain damage,” Rainbow Dash said, pouting.

“It had been over ten hours since your exposure, Miss Dash. These treatments must be applied quickly in order to be effective,” Claret explained. “Besides, weren’t you JUST berating me for being overly concerned for your mental health?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know there was some kind of whacky gas I could just inhale to fix it.”

“There ISN’T. That’s what I’m trying to tell you!”

“Can I huff a dose of it just in case?”

“NO.”

Several yellow lumens flashed on the wall. Warning! Warp exit will commence in zero-point-six cycles. Prepare tactical navigation. Defensive batteries on alert.

Rainbow’s ears perked up. “What? We’re already at the next target?!” She jumped off of the examination bed and landed behind Claret. “C’mon Doc, you have to clear me for combat duty! I can’t miss out on another raid!”

“First of all: no I will not. Secondly: you didn’t miss out on a raid last time, you were assigned to TWO different raids,” Claret explained, her tone rapidly deteriorating. “And finally, we’re not heading to another target world yet, it’s something else.”

“Something else?”

“Yes. Or that’s what the public log said, anyway. I don’t really care so long as it means I’m not going to have another influx of patients,” Claret opened a drawer next to her cogitator and started rooting through it.

“We are making port at the space station Ishrem,” Serith said. “It is not a target.”

“It’s not? So we’re just stopping there to visit or something?” Rainbow asked. Then she cocked her head to the side. “Wait… if we’re not attacking it, that means it doesn’t count as a combat mission. If it doesn’t count, that means I can go, right?”

“If I said no, would you actually stay locked in your room until we left?” Claret asked bitterly, levitating an air horn out of the drawer.

“Ha! No way!” Rainbow laughed, jumping into the air and zipping toward the entrance. “Thanks for the checkup, Doc! I’ll see you later!”

“Just TRY not to show up with any new skull fractures next time, would you?” Claret asked.

The door opened, and then Rainbow zipped out into the hall.

“I suppose my own presence is… unnecessary at the moment,” Serith admitted, turning sharply so that his cape swept along behind him. “Update me once you’ve a useful diagnosis, Doctor.”

“Of course, Lord. Thank you for your assistance,” Claret said as he left the room, trying very hard to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

Suuna watched the Sorcerer leave, and then turned back to the doctor as Claret Heartthrob floated the air horn next to Trixie’s ear. “You’re not really going to do what I think you are, are you?”

Claret looked up at the human. “I can’t run any more useful tests while she’s unconscious. It’s either this or ice water, and this doesn’t leave a puddle in the examination bed.” A small glimmer of pink touched the horn while she was distracted, quickly rotating the mouth to face the opposite direction.

“Cover your ears, Miss,” Claret warned. Then her magic depressed the button on top.

The air horn promptly blasted her in the face, and Claret shrieked and recoiled in shock. She struck her back hoof on a stool, and Suuna winced as the unicorn went reeling onto the floor.

Trixie snorted irritably and then turned over, nuzzling Suuna’s arm.

---

Harvest of Steel
Deck 19, section C

The bulkheads groaned and trembled as the flagship translated back into realspace. Monitors and holo-screens briefly turned to static as their data feeds were disrupted and reset. The crew, trapped in the alcoves with their bodies chained and entwined in cabling, quivered and shrieked in a horrifying chorus.

The fleet has returned to the Materium, growled a vox caster. All hands prepare for entry into the asteroid field. Defensive batteries online. May the dark gods bless our path.

Gaela uttered a prayer in Binaric Cant, pressing a cybernetic hand against the bulkhead wall. The groan from the flexing substructure intensified, and frost started collecting where her hand made contact with the metal. She watched the reaction with disinterest until someone spoke behind her.

“We’ve gotta go through an asteroid field to get to this place? What’s an asteroid field?”

“It’s an area in space with numerous large rocks in a free-floating cluster. This provides protection from detection and attacks, and often the asteroids themselves are mined for water, metals, and chemicals.”

Gaela pulled her hand from the bulkhead. Equinought squadron was waiting behind her with Twilight at the head, lecturing them. Half the group of ponies were wearing their armor, while Rarity, Pinkie, and Rainbow Dash were unclothed. Spike was with them as well, wearing a tiny red vest and tool belt.

“Because asteroid fields are troublesome to patrol and more troublesome to attack, a lot of pirates establish bases there, either in their flagship vessel or space stations built in hollowed-out asteroids. At least, that’s my understanding. Am I missing anything, Gaela?” Twilight asked, turning toward the Techpriest hopefully.

“Your explanation is sufficient,” Gaela advised. “Ishrem is the latter. A space city used as a trading hub for smugglers and pirates.”

“How did assorted brigands and rabble construct a working space habitat?” Rarity asked, tilting her head to the side. “Twilight is always going on about how sophisticated your machines are and how infuriating it is that you won’t share their design openly. Do these people have Techpriests too?”

“Negative,” Gaela replied. “Indeed, as you suspect, a space station is quite beyond the ability of its owners to construct or easily maintain. Ishrem was constructed by the Imperium as a mining operation that got stranded without resupply after a Tyranid swarm destroyed the host world. The pirates moved in some sixty-eight standard solar years ago and have kept it barely habitable in the interim.”

Gaela started walking down the hall, using her axe’s haft as a walking stick. The ponies and dragon followed her eagerly, listening with varying levels of attention. “There are countless such structures throughout the galaxy, abandoned through incompetence, neglect, or circumstance. Sometimes the controlling Imperial presence is extinguished. Sometimes the Explorators gets over-exuberant in their expansion before the Calculator overseers reel them back in. Sometimes they are just forgotten somehow, the loss carelessly tallied among the truly vast toll this galaxy extracts from humanity each megacycle.” She shrugged her armored shoulders before pressing her palm against a cogitator console. “In each case, internal resources are salvaged when possible, but often the superstructure cannot be easily scuttled, or it is simply seen as an unnecessary expense. It is only a matter of time until something else finds it and makes a home of it, and it’s usually an Ork.” She snorted. “We are slightly more fortunate in the case of Ishrem.”

The next door opened, and they walked into the next section. The deck was as busy as Twilight had ever seen it, with groups of men and ponies rushing back and forth with cargo of varying sizes. A few Iron Warriors escorted their underlings, but the super-soldiers seemed like a minor presence among the sudden buzz within the flagship.

“You have no duties while we are berthed. You may remain upon the ship or visit Ishrem station,” Gaela explained while they walked among the deck traffic. “I would have to recommend you stick close to the humans if you do leave the ship; you may need one of us to explain to the residents that you aren’t xeno predators or mutant vermin.”

“I’m sure we’ll manage,” Rarity said dryly. “If this isn’t a mission, then we won’t need our armor, yes?”

“It is moderately unlikely that you will be attacked on Ishrem,” the Techpriest replied.

“That don’t exactly answer the question,” Applejack said, arching a brow.

“Use your best judgment.” Gaela paused, and then looked back at the equines. “Or for those of you whose judgment is inadequate, simply do what Sparkle says.”

“Awwww! That’s almost all of us!” Pinkie complained, kicking the floor.

“I think you should wear your armor. There aren’t many drawbacks, and it will keep you connected to everyone else and give you protection from unexpected hazards, like a depressurization event or a fire,” Twilight explained to the other mares. “We’re leaving the Dreadnaught behind, though.”

“Ugh, FINE. But I’m not taking my helmet,” Rarity insisted.

“What’re you goin’ to be doing on Ishrem, Gaela?” Applejack asked.

“As I mentioned earlier, the dregs that occupy the space station barely have the slightest idea what they’re doing when overseeing devices that maintain life support and power generation. Therefore, when a ship possessing actual Techpriests makes berth, our services command a truly desperate price,” she explained with just a hint of self-satisfaction. “Although Ishrem possesses a substantial market for docking vessels and I presume the Trademaster performs his duty within minimal acceptable parameters, the Mechanicus extracts payment directly from the station Overseer in return for maintenance and construction. As such, I have been assigned to a repair covenant.”

“Well I’m DEFINITELY going to Ishrem! Maybe they have some cool suit upgrades!” Rainbow said gleefully.

“I don’t think you’re going to find equipment in some pirate’s loot pile that’s better than what Solon made, Dash,” Twilight said.

“Okay, sure, but like… maybe I can get a bigger gun, at least. The ninja star thing is really cool but it kind of lacks the punch that you guys have.”

“Ah don’t think ya can just swap ‘em out like that,” Applejack interjected. “Ah do wanna see what they got, though. It might be nice to pick up a souvenir we didn’t have to pry outta some poor human fightin’ other poor humans in a big dark pit.”

“I wanna buy space candy!” Pinkie volunteered.

“Do whatever you wish,” Gaela advised the equines, turning in front of a door to a different room, “but recall that you embark upon this settlement under the flag of the Iron Warriors, and that your conduct will be judged accordingly.”

Fluttershy gulped, and she briefly flickered back into the visible spectrum. “Oh, so… we should be on our best behavior not to embarrass the Warsmith?”

Gaela quirked her eyebrow. “On the contrary. I meant that you can abuse that authority and the power implicit in your association at will.”

“SCORE!” Rainbow whooped, holding up a hoof. Pinkie Pie jumped up and slapped it, and the mares cackled to each other.

Although the other ponies looked slightly worried at their reaction, Gaela ignored them and opened the door in front of her. “This is where we part. I must receive my briefing and join the tech-covenant for benediction and deployment.”

“Okay! Have fun!” Twilight said brightly, lifting a boot to wave.

Gaela responded with a grunt, stepping into the room as plumes of sulphur-scented incense leaked into the hall.

“Thanks! You too!” Spike said. Then he followed Gaela inside, the door sweeping shut behind him.

Twilight gaped for a few seconds, and then her expression soured. “Spike is going with her? Nobody mentioned that!”

“Would ya have stopped him if’n they had?” Applejack asked, heading further down the corridor.

“I… well, no. But she used to ask before taking him along with her,” Twilight grumbled, following along. “And how come she never invites ME along to help on her Mechanicus covenants?”

“Ooh! Ooh! I know this one!” Pinkie said brightly, bouncing up and down. “It’s because the rest of the cult hates you for being a filthy psyker, right?”

Twilight didn’t respond or shift her expression, but her ears flattened against the side of her head while she walked.

The hall reached an open deck section near the hangar entrance. This space had crowds of humans either passing through or gathering together in groups, apparently already prepared to off board the moment the ship was docked. It was an unusual sight on the flagship; men that were normally wearing menial jumpsuits or flak armor along with rebreathers and magazine bandoleers were dressed in an assortment of drab shirts and pants with the odd jacket or hat. Many of them were armed with a pistol, but very few carried long guns or other wargear. Several large packs, satchels, and crates were carried about or stacked beside groups of men, waiting to be carried out. It was an image that would remind anyone of a normal civilian terminal at a train station, at least until they noticed the gigantic eyeball squinting down at the crowds from the ceiling.

There were few ponies gathered here, although it was easy to spot Phage Squadron from the wide berth everyone else gave them. There were even a handful of Tau gathered in a corner, although they wore their usual wargear and weaponry. Applejack took the lead, trotting toward Phage Squadron and the human leaning on a bulkhead next to them.

“Howdy, Wyatt! It’s been a while!” the farmer said brightly.

“It has! Not sorry that I missed out assaulting a xeno den, though,” the mercenary chuckled.

Daniel’s civilian clothes were more elaborate than most, consisting of a tan shirt, jacket, and good pants that were clearly not part of the standard Chaos gunman’s uniform. He was wearing a sidearm, but perplexingly it was a simple laspistol rather than the pulse pistol he used in the field. His spirits were obviously high, or at least much higher than the people behind him.

The Fireblade Jerriha was seated on a crate, looking fairly annoyed. Erin Whyd was there as well, although it looked like she had been conversing with the cultists of Phage Squadron up until the Equinoughts arrived. Jerriha, like the other Tau, was wearing combat plate and carrying her pulse carbine. Erin, like many of the other humans, was wearing an old tunic rather than combat armor.

“Are the grays visiting the station or getting ready to storm it? What’s with all the guns?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“It’s prudent to be better armed than the security on a human station,” Jerriha said, her tone icy. “The Iron Warriors were quite explicit that they would not guarantee our safety outside the ship.”

“Do you think the pirates and smugglers here would attack or kidnap you?” Twilight asked.

“I know nothing about these humans except that they’re willing to accommodate the Iron Warriors, who attacked and kidnapped us enthusiastically,” Jerriha noted.

“You did the same to us!” Rainbow Dash fumed.

“Okay, let’s not get hung up over who murdered and pillaged who,” Daniels interjected. “The point is, you don’t know how a bunch of underdeck rabble are going to handle seeing Tau warriors walking through the markets, and it’s a reasonable concern. The people around here aren’t very dangerous, but they’re not very friendly, either. Just keep those guns close; any weapon you bring on Ishrem is more likely to get stolen than used, and a bunch of powerful xenotech would be worth a fortune in a place like this.”

“By the same token I imagine it’s a good place for mercenaries to offload any ‘trophies’ they find at a better price than the Merchant Corp can provide,” Twilight reasoned.

“Absolutely. There’s sometimes good stuff to buy, but they’re usually pretty hard up for the basics. Plenty of dreamjuice and hydrastimm, not much food or power cells,” the mercenary explained with a shrug.

“Ooh, those sound tasty!” Pinkie said brightly.

“Hydrastimm tastes like engine coolant,” Erin said flatly. “Mostly on account of it being formulated from engine coolant.”

“Nice kick, though. And it’ll clear your sinuses right up,” Daniels laughed.

“Is that what you’re going to get after we dock?” Rainbow asked.

“No,” Daniels said, his expression turning very serious. “I’ll be at the brothel until we ship back out.”

Rarity and Twilight recoiled, their faces flushing. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie snickered but didn’t look disturbed. The mares of Phage Squadron perked their ears noticeably, but otherwise pretended they weren’t listening. Applejack blinked and tilted her head to the side.

“The what? What’s a brothel? That some kinda space kitchen?” Applejack asked, looking back and forth.

“It’s more like a space hotel,” Erin said with a small smile.

“Sounds borin’, but Ah guess that’s a nice change of pace to life in the barracks,” Applejack seemed to accept this explanation with a shrug and lose interest.

“I do hope there’s SOME… upscale services available here,” Rarity said carefully. “It feels like ages since I’ve had a spa treatment. The one in Ferrous Dominus was mediocre, but there isn’t one on the Harvest at all!”

Erin and Jerriha looked as confused as Applejack had been. They looked over at Daniels, who smirked slightly.

“The ‘spa’ is a place for decadent bathing rituals enjoyed by the pony elite,” Daniels explained, winking at Rarity. “I’m sure Imperium nobles have something like it too, but it’s a bit too trifling for us mercs and ratings. It’s like a sanitation cloister, but with attendants and weird exercises and fancy crèmes and such to make your hair all nice. Supposed to be relaxing.”

Rarity smirked back. “I’m still disappointed I couldn’t talk you into a session back in Ponyville. I’m sure that even human skin could use a bit more care than you offer it, and Aloe said she needed a study subject to develop a good primate treatment!”

“’Primate treatment.’ Right. Not seeing a lot of takers with that,” Daniels mumbled.

“Sounds like a pointless indulgence, but it’s one of the more harmless sorts, I suppose,” Jerriha said, frowning. “Obviously you wouldn’t find one on any sort of military vessel, much less…” she looked up uneasily, and the giant eye on the ceiling blinked at her. “… THIS.”

“Is there a service like that at Ishrem?” Erin asked, intrigued.

“I don’t know. Maybe? The staff at the ‘space hotel’ probably need to gussy up somewhere, right?” Daniels said wryly. “But if they did, how would you pay for it? You just joined up. They accept all kinds of currency on Ishrem, from credits to thrones to plasteel ingots to Militarum scrip, as long as it’s from a nearby sector regiment. The one thing the residents NEVER accept is promises.”

“What, you’re not going to treat the new kid?” Erin asked, pouting.

“New kid my arse. You probably got more kills than I did before we left Ghessheim,” Daniels snorted.

“Right, but I wasn’t working for anyone at the time. Cut me a break, soldier!”

“WAIT,” Rainbow Dash yelped, landing on the ground with a shocked expression. “I don’t have any money either!”

“I think I have some bits in the walker. Do they take bits?” Pinkie asked.

“They’re not going to take a regional currency from a planet they’ve never heard of, Pinkie,” Twilight explained. “We’re not on contract, so we don’t draw a salary. We’re not mercenaries.”

“Not all of us,” Rarity corrected. After a few awkward seconds, she clarified. “I am on a contract. So I suppose I am a mercenary. Technically.”

“What?! You mean we could be getting paid for this?! I thought we were fighting for Equestria’s survival or something!” Rainbow said.

“We are. But generosity isn’t cheap, darling,” Rarity explained with a wink. “Speaking of which, I’m going to go get ready. I need to check in with Delgan’s ship to find out the docking schedule. I’ll see you all later.”

The unicorn turned and trotted back toward the main deck, humming to herself. Rainbow pouted as she departed, her ears pinning back against her head.

“Ponyfeathers! I can’t believe we could have been earning a wage all this time but no one said anything,” the pegasus grumbled, kicking her hoof against the deck.

Pinkie Pie nodded sadly. Twilight Sparkle shrugged. Fluttershy remained invisible. Applejack studiously avoided eye contact.

“You didn’t tell ‘em, did you?” Daniels asked, reaching over and flicking Applejack’s ear.

“APPLEJACK?! You’re on a contract too?!” Rainbow shouted, leaping up and landing on top of her terminator armor cowl. She craned her head down so that she was glaring at the farmer eye-to-eye and upside-down. “Why were you and Rarity keeping this a secret?!”

“We weren’t! Ah didn’t know y’all were fightin’ fer free! It never came up!” Applejack protested. “Ah just looked into compensation ‘cuz Ah wanted to send money to the farm when we got back!”

“Why ARE you serving if you’re not getting paid?” Erin asked.

“We swore our service to the Company to cement the alliance between Equestria and the Iron Warriors,” Twilight said. “The Company gives us room and board, and the dataslates are free, so it never really occurred to me. What would I spend the money on?”

“That was kinda my thinking too, until now,” Rainbow huffed, hopping off of Applejack and onto the deck. “I didn’t know there were going to be alien markets, though! Also we didn’t get to do any looting last mission and the treasure we got was a total dud!”

“As for me, my earnings all go to the lease on the Dreadnought,” Pinkie sighed.

“What? Really?” Twilight asked, her eye widening.

“No. But I think that sounds pretty good for the next time someone asks how I got it.”

Erin heard the sound of power armored greaves approaching behind her. Phage Squadron reached the edge of the group and Poison Kiss cleared her throat to interject.

“Our service is a religious observance, so we too find ourselves a bit down and out,” she said. “Our lord Nurgle and our benefactors the Iron Warriors give us so much that we can hardly whinge about it, but a stipend would be nice…”

Erin glanced over at Jerriha. The Fireblade noticed and glared back.

“We’re slaves,” Jerriha said bluntly.

“Y’all sure don’t act like slaves,” Applejack mumbled.

“I’m not going to argue about the nuances of our indefinite obligation to fight for Chaos pirates so that we don’t have to choke to death in the mines instead,” the alien sniffed, “but if you want an explanation of our compensation agreement, ‘slave’ will do.”

A deep rumble came from the bulkheads, and then a pounding noise echoed through the substructure.

“Defensive cannons. We’re well into the asteroid field now,” Jerriha said.

“I should go get my armor,” Rainbow Dash mumbled, turning around and trudging toward the entrance. “I just wish I had some money!”

“Well I don’t see much help for you,” Daniels shrugged. “Unless you happen to be close personal friends with someone who is rich and generous. Or is rich and can be badgered into generosity.”

Rainbow halted, her eyes lighting up in epiphany.

---

Harvest of Steel
Deck 23, section A-6

Kaelith clicked his melta-cutters together in agitation. +Analytic: Service detail has been inloaded and the objective register is… underwhelming. Estimated time until project completion is 28.17% of expected work cycles allocated. Conclusive: This diversion from operational status will be substantially shorter than anticipated,+ he explained in a brief blast of static.

“Why ish that? Do they lack the reshourcesh to pay us? Or are they jusht in unushually good repair thish time?” Solon asked, the deck trembling as he moved down the hall.

+Data not found,+ Kaelith hissed. +Explanatory: Initial communications with relay node were unable to reach station master. The adjunct did not respond to our interrogatives.+

“Well, we’ll earn enough to fuel the resht of the fleet and take in shome raw materialsh. No point presshing if timesh are lean.” Solon stopped at the next heavy access door, and a rumble rolled through the bulkhead as the seal deactivated and the blast plates opened.

Rainbow Dash (in her armor this time), Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and the three mares of Phage Squadron were standing on the other side, their necks craned up to look at him.

“Can we have an allowance?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“I think Mister Daniels was actually thinking of the Trademaster,” Breezy Blight said, “but this is a much better idea!”

Solon stared down at the equines silently for several seconds while Kaelith sputtered angrily in some derivative scrapcode dialect. Then he leaned over to the cogitator panel and poked a big black button.

“Hey! Wait! Come on, Sol!” Rainbow shouted as the door’s manual override engaged, slamming the armored barriers shut between her and the Warsmith.

“I don’t anticipate any problemsh if we depart ahead of shchedule.” Solon swiveled completely around on his chassis, and then the crab-like legs began scuttling backward, taking him back down the hall. “Ash long ash we get our fuel and thoshe reagentsh you wanted.”

+Affirmative.+ The two cybernetic monstrosities scuttled back up the hall, the sounds of mechanical legs pounding on the deck ringing through the halls. It was several minutes until Kaelith spoke again. +Interrogative: Are you certain this intelligence on the Dark Eldar is… accurate? Analytic: The stratagem vector is sound. However, a minor inaccuracy in risk assessment is likely to lead to substantial losses.+

“I do not believe the coordinatesh Shparkle got were a trap, no. Commoragh ish dangeroush enough that it ishn’t going to invite unwary aggresshorsh whether or not the xenosh realize they are exposhed.”

+Admonition: You did not recognize that object 811 was a component of a daemonic plot against our Equiss contingent. Greater caution is advised.+

“Are you shuggeshting that all the data within the Deshtiny Cube ish alsho a trap?” Solon asked.

+Contra: Object 811 is an octahedron, not a cube,+ Kaelith hissed. Then he continued. +Analytic: The apparent hostility of daemonic forces to certain individuals in our Equiss detachment is poorly understood. It would appear unit Sparkle is a key target, not a victim of opportunity. Conclusive: Further research is required to determine the cause of this specific emnity.+

“Why? What do you intend to do if you find the caushe?” Solon asked.

+Explanatory: If we understand the depth of their enmity, it may be possible to negotiate a price.+

“A price,” Solon said flatly, “for my sholdier.”

+Affirmative. Addendum: Daemons have many useful offerings, and it is rare that mortals possess something they desire so keenly. Exploratory measures are warranted.”

“I could certainly shtand to parley with daemonsh and extract more of their power and knowledge. Shuch thingsh are hardly beneath me.” Solon swiveled to glare at Kaelith through the bloody red of his optics, “but that ish not what the daemonsh want, ish it? They have not contacted me for bargaining, they have asshaulted my ship and infiltrated our objectivesh. They sheek to shteal ftom me, Magosh. Thish I will not tolerate.”

+Concordance: Daemonic entities have engaged in a manner consistent with their typically bestial stratagems. Conclusive: Again, more research is required to determine proximate goals and determine a means of productive engagement.+

“Tell me what you would need for shuch reshearch,” Solon allowed as he reached another set of doors.

+Requisition: Unit Twilight Sparkle.+

“No,” Solon answered curtly.

The melta-cutters under Kaelith’s hood quivered and scratched against each other irritably like an insect’s mandibles. +Rationale?+

“You know why,” Solon retorted. “You may not like the anshwer, but it bindsh you all the shame. I will not entrusht Shparkle to your care.”

The blast doors opened. Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Phage Squadron stood on the other side. The ponies all had their ears pinned back now, and were staring up at him with big, wet eyes on the verge of tears (Rot Blossom’s eyes were obscured by her mane as usual, but Solon assumed she was adopting the same expression).

“C’mon Sol! Pleeeeeeeease?” Rainbow Dash begged.

“I don’t shupposhe a different pony would sherve ash an acceptable reshearch shacrifice?” Solon asked, turning to look at Kaelith.

+Negative,+ the Dark Magos spat.

“Unfortunate,” Solon started forward again, heedless of the ponies that stood in his way.

Rainbow Dash yelped and leapt to the side, shoving Fluttershy out of the way of the huge, metal legs that clambered across the deck. Breezy Blight jumped up into the air to avoid being trampled, while Poison Kiss and Rot Blossom scrambled toward the wall to clear a space. Pinkie was the only mare that didn’t completely clear Solon’s path, jumping out of the way of one leg and then rolling under another. With each dodge she made a little “hyah!” noise, and she quickly disappeared under the Warsmith’s chassis.

“It may be prudent to shtudy the apparent grudge that daemonic invadersh have for my shervantsh, but I will not have their livesh reshting in your handsh. Perhapsh I shall commisshion Shparkle hershelf to shtudy it. She may have inshightsh that we had not conshidered.”

Kaelith followed in the Warsmith’s wake, bypassing the armored ponies without a glance. +Contra: It is unlikely unit Sparkle possesses any such knowledge that she has not already divulged to you or Dark Techpriest Gaela. Addendum: She lacks requisite expertise in daemonology and divine lore. Her skills are inadequate.+

“You have a point, but my decishion shtandsh,” Solon said decisively.

Then a hatch on top of his chassis popped open, and Pinkie Pie stuck her head out. Kaelith recoiled, his body shooting up to twice its normal walking height and numerous laser cutters starting to glow.

“No money in here, guys,” Pinkie announced while she crawled out, “just locusts.”

“Hey! Get out of there!” Solon stopped and swiveled around, shaking his fist at the pony before she jumped off of him. “I don’t have any currency! Why would I?!”

“Because you’re the boss,” Rainbow said hesitantly. “That means you’re rich, right?”

“No, it doeshn’t!” Solon snapped. Then he hesitated. “Well… not exactly. It doeshn’t work like that. I do not control reshourcesh in termsh of shimple wealth, ash you or Trademashter Delgan would.”

+Suspension: This topic is highly unproductive,+ Kaelith complained. +Executive: Cease this prattling diversion at once. We must review objectives for the upcoming operation.+

“Yesh, fine, we’ll get to that, we’re not in a hurry,” Solon replied.

“Wait wait wait, are you telling me you don’t get paid? Even though you’re the boss?!” Rainbow asked, looking shocked.

“I don’t earn a shalary like a mere mercenary, no,” the Warsmith scoffed.

“Solon is POOR?!” Breezy yelped.

“Of courshe not. I own all of you, for shtartersh,” the Warsmith retorted.

“We’re all poor too!” Rainbow complained. “Doesn’t anyone in the fleet have money other than Delgan?”

A harsh blast of static suddenly erupted from Kaelith, and he darted ahead. He scuttled away down the hall, several buzzing and sparking noises coming from within his hood.

“What hash HIM in shuch a mood?” Solon grumbled, his chassis finally turning around to address the equines. “Anyway. I have accessh to the vasht majority of the fleet’sh war reshourcesh. Metalsh, chemicalsh, munitionsh, and technology. Mere currency ish ushelessh to me. That ish why I command a merchant to conduct and organize commerce: to manage shuch thingsh and turn them into more raw materialsh for my forge and the Legion’sh bulwarksh.”

“Okay, I get it, but like… what if you were just walking through Canterlot or Ishrem and wanted to buy a really cool thing you saw at a booth or something? What would you do then?” Rainbow asked. The other mares also stared up at him intently, awaiting the answer.

“I… Well… It hashn’t come up. But I shupposhe I could parley with my wargear. Mosht of it ish very valuable though, sho if the market object wash of inshufficient price I could… ah… trade ammunition? That hash trade value, right? I carry lotsh of that,” the hulking Astartes said uncertainly.

Pinkie Pie leaned over and gently patted Solon on the leg.

“I’m not poor,” the Warsmith reiterated firmly, a puff of exhaust blasting from his smokestacks.

“… If we can’t have any money, can I have one of the locusts, please?” Rot Blossom asked hesitantly.

“Ugh, FINE.”

Solon reached down toward Pinkie Pie, seizing her by the tail and picking her up. The pink mare blinked owlishly as she was lifted to hang upside-down, and then shouted in surprise when Solon started shaking her violently in the air. The other mares recoiled, but Blossom’s ears perked up in delight when she saw a tiny, squirming yellow body fall out of Pinkie’s voluminous mane and drop onto the deck.

“Thank you, Warsmith!” Blossom chirped excitedly, placing her boot on the deck next to the bug. “As ever, you bless these unworthy servants with your gifts!” The insect jumped onto her greaves and scuttled up the side, eventually disappearing into some gap or pocket under the armor’s shoulder plate.

“You’re welcome.” Solon tossed Pinkie Pie aside and then finally started heading down the hall again. “We are entering the heart of the ashteroid field now. The Harvesht will be docked within the hour. If you wish to depart for the shtation you should finish your preparationsh now. You don’t have long to beg anyone elshe for thingsh.”

“Also I should probably take a quick shower,” Pinkie admitted as she stood up dizzily.

“Prudent. Goodbye.”

---

Cerrus asteroid cluster D-8
Mining nexus Ishrem
(Status: Non-viable as of Imperial records date 39.831.752)

The Harvest of Steel cruised steadily through the web of asteroids, its path following a series of empty, inactive beacon stations that marked the route. The smaller vessels of the fleet followed in a tight cluster trailing in the flagship’s wake, their path lit by the bright violet glow of the Harvest’s engines.

Enormous, jagged hunks of rock and ice surrounded the pirate vessels above, beneath, and to both sides, forming a daunting barrier to any who would stray from the path. There were many gaps among the free-floating rocks large enough for any of the vessels to navigate into, but to leave the route laid by the markers was to risk being trapped within a shell of navigational hazards with no space to turn. Even the main route was littered with small rocks that constantly cracked against the armor of the Harvest of Steel before being hurled away into the greater part of the field.

Eventually the fleet reached the core. A large gap within the asteroid field allowed for relatively normal ship movements around a large asteroid that floated in the middle. This particular piece of rock was several times larger than the Harvest, and boasted numerous metal protrusions mounted all over; antennae, domes, bulbs, and pipes jutted from the base, many of them in a visibly disastrous state of repair.

There were other ships in the area as well, although they were dwarfed by the megafreighter and its escorts. A pair of cutters probably belonging to smugglers were docked on spires adjacent to the main hangar bay, and numerous transport shuttles floated back and forth between the station and the mining pods attached to the surrounding asteroids like large metal ticks. Garbage sputtered from parts of the base, streaming away into the void in a thin, slimy trail that wound into the surrounding field. Near the trash vents was a series of heavy macro-cranes and salvage shredders for taking apart decommissioned vessels and making repairs to damaged ones. The machines were in terrible shape, shuddering with every movement and visibly bleeding plasma from parts that were not supposed to vent heat.

There were few defense batteries, and some half of the guns that hadn’t been scrapped already were inactive for want of parts or munitions. As bad as the main cannons were, they were not nearly as shambolic as the patrol fighters that buzzed about the core area perimeter and constantly checked the largest asteroids for drift. The tiny scrap-built craft were horribly slow and had threadbare life support on the miraculous occasions that all the systems booted completely. The only thing impressive about the fighters were the heavy “meteor melter” fission torpedoes that they occasionally used to crack open and divert asteroids that were on a trajectory to collide with Ishrem; impressive tools of destruction, at least when used on inert hunks of rock and ice.

The Harvest of Steel paid the defenses no mind, slowly wheeling into position at the mouth of the station hangar. Mag-clamps emerged from the hull, slamming into place on the side of the station while hundreds of retro-boosters fired to bring the flagship to a stop. The engines dimmed, finally allowed to rest, and deployment gantries extended into the asteroid’s berth.

---

Mining nexus Ishrem
Docking bay

Twilight emerged from the access gantry hesitantly, breaking from the line of soldiers and menials flooding into the hangar. She had her helmet on and a small satchel hanging from the side of her armor. The force harmonizer was securely mag-locked to the other side, and secured further under a wire clamp fit to the seams of the plating. She was as ready as she could be.

The other Equinoughts followed, stopping behind the Princess to stare at the yawning interior of the station. Pinkie alone was unarmored and unencumbered, and her mane was also slightly damp. Fluttershy followed invisibly, the only indication of her presence being a series of tapping hoofsteps that followed Rarity just slightly out of sync. Rarity and Rainbow Dash were armored but not wearing their helmets, which Twilight thought was slightly reckless when there was open void barely twenty feet away behind the hangar’s particle screen.

“Wowee… would ya look at this place…” Applejack breathed, stopping next to Twilight.

The view wasn’t exactly nice, but it was certainly impressive. Massive cylinders of metal stretched from floor to ceiling, their exteriors riddled with windows and lights. Bridges, structures, and in some places entire decks were attached to the columns, stretching out to the other sections and walls. Underneath the cylinders was a veritable city of smaller structures. Some of them were sturdy and purpose-built facilities that had been repurposed, while others had been hammered together from scrap metal and garbage. Dimly-lit track lumens and flickering holo-screens pulsed over the tin-paneled trackways winding between the buildings, creating a sense of desperate urban glamor that contrasted wildly with the massive stone crags jutting from the outer walls. There was a sort of crude majesty to it all; without the industrial might of the Adeptus or Dark Mechanicus, the residents had made their living from the leavings of an empire that would crush them in an instant, if it could be bothered. Yet despite its difficulties and limitations the facility still maintained a more dignified and functional presentation than any Ork camp or workshop.

“Okay, so… should we check out the market? I know most of us don’t have money, but it would be a good place to visit, right?” Twilight asked, turning around. “Wherever we go, we should stick together. This isn’t a mission, of course, but it might still be dangerous.”

“The market sounds like a grand idea, darling,” Rarity said brightly, trotting out ahead. “After that, let’s look for that spa. If there is one I’m sure I can cover the charge for all of us.”

“I doubt there’s a beautician in this trash heap, but if there is do you really think they’d serve xenos?” Jerriha asked.

The ponies all stopped, and then, as one, they slowly turned around to look behind them.

“… What? It’s a fair question. I assume we’d be under the same scrutiny,” Jerriha explained, sounding slightly indignant. There were four other Fire Warriors behind her, all of them in full armor with their weapons at the ready. They glanced about the station interior with a visibly defensive posture, as if they weren’t completely sure whether or not they had reached a war zone.

“Can we help you, Shas’vre?” Twilight asked with a slight dry edge. “If you want a tour of Ishrem, you should probably ask a human. We’ve never been here.”

“I’m aware,” the Tau said. “I was thinking we’d tag along with you.”

“What? Why?” Rainbow asked.

“Because we’re all aliens to these people,” Jerriha replied, as if it should be obvious. “There’s a much smaller chance of any unpleasant eventualities if we combine our numbers.” After a pause, she added, “Besides, we’re all much better armed than any of the humans. If we were to tag along with the grunts we would look like their guard retinue or something.”

“Y’all are weird, y’know that?” Applejack griped. Then she turned around. “If ya wanna follow us then we ain’t gonna stop ya. Just don’t go startin’ no trouble and expectin’ us to help.”

“The warning is mutual,” the Fireblade retorted. “… Anyway, thank you.”

The ponies walked across the hangar platform toward Ishrem’s interior, the Tau following them several feet behind. There were numerous people on the deck that weren’t from the fleet, most of them moving crates or simply watching the new arrivals. Most of these individuals stared in disbelief and fascination at the ponies disembarking the ship, and several moved toward the crush of humans to ask about the colorful aliens.

“Hey, Princess!” came a shout from above.

Many of the spectators flinched or ducked, as if the sudden call was a gunshot. Lightning Dust flew over Equinought Squadron, and then turned around in the air to face them while sliding up her tcactical visor.

“That’s a lot of firepower you girls are packing! You on escort duty too?”

Twilight tilted her head to the side. “No, we’re not on assignment. You are?”

“Yeah! There’s some kind of slum for the bottom-feeders around here so we’re gonna go recruiting and proselytizing and stuff down there.” Lightning Dust lifted her lasgun. “Have fun! Hopefully we finish quickly so I can check out the main city too!”

Lightning Dust swiveled around and zipped away, and the spectators from Ishrem again ducked in fright as if she was about to dive-bomb them. Several other ponies broke from the main flow of passengers to follow her, walking in a loose formation. There was an outer ring that was composed of soldiers in full wargear, and in the center were a couple of cabal unicorns. Mantis was recognizable from his goat-like horns and the autobrace he wore on his broken leg. After a few seconds Twilight caught sight of a pair of magenta glasses beneath the other hood, suggesting the other cultist was Vinyl Scratch.

“Proselytizing to the sub-decks, huh? Well, good luck to them,” Twilight murmured while she continued onward.

“It sounds, er… fascinating, but I think we spent enough time crawling around in the dark and confronting misshapen scoundrels recently,” Rarity opined. “Some time in well-lit environs confronting ordinary scoundrels will be a nice change of pace.”

“Speakin’ o’ which, we should get some directions rather’n wanderin’ the city,” Applejack nudged her head toward a random fellow in a spacer jumpsuit, and the man flinched at the sight of her long, metal tusks jabbing in his direction. “Hey, any y’all know the way to the market?”

The man hesitated, glancing over at his fellow crew. They were grimly studying Applejack’s heavy flamer, and some were calmly moving to a more convenient position to flee if necessary.

“You some kinda… x… xeno pets for the Chaos guys?” the man replied, his voice cracking slightly. A burning stick of some foul-smelling substance was clenched between his teeth, and a small puff of dark smoke spurted from the tip as he spoke.

“Something like that, yes,” Twilight replied. “Is that a problem, Sir?”

“I reckon it isn’t, so long as you can talk and you can pay.” The spacer took another deep drag on the stick, a nervous shudder rolling through his body. “You here for the scrap market, slave market, weapons market, or the spice market?”

“Spice market? You do a lot of cooking up here?” Pinkie asked, her eyes lighting up.

“I believe that’s a slang term for mind-altering substances,” Jerriha noted, “and we’re quite well-equipped already. Scrap market, then.”

“Right. It’s up the lower spool, next to the hydrator engines,” the man pointed toward one end of the base’s interior. “It’s pretty big, you can’t miss it. All sorts of junk for sale. Also sells food and normal trade goods around there.”

Twilight nodded. “Right. Thank you.” Then she paused before tilting her head slightly. “You said you had a slave market?”

“Barely,” scoffed the spacer, pausing to take another long drag from the strange stick. “The stock around here is terrible. But if it’s warm bodies you’re looking for and you’re not particular about what they can do, you’ll find the dealers on the edge of the array over there. There’s a disused reactor pit they set up in.” He pointed toward a location on the opposite side of the base from the scrap market.

“I see… thank you,” Twilight said evenly before turning away.

Then Rainbow Dash coughed. “Well, since you know all the markets, we might as well get the other locations. You know, in case we just want to see-“

“Spice market is middle of the central spool, on the platform that melds with the bulkhead,” the spacer interrupted. “Watch yourself up there; security is pretty twitchy.”

“Great! Thanks!” Dash said brightly before moving to follow Twilight.

“So just to control expectations here, we’re not going to buy drugs,” Twilight warned as they walked into the ramshackle “streets” of Ishrem.

“Of course not! I just wanted to know where they keep them!” the pegasus protested.

Pinkie Pie lifted a hoof and grinned, and then Rainbow smiled back and touched her boot against it. This did not help reassure Twilight as to their intentions.

“I still want to find a beauty parlor, if they have one,” Rarity advised. “I’ll ask around at this scrap market place.”

“Yes, but first I want to visit the slave pit,” Twilight said, lowering her voice.

“Oh, okay.” Applejack paused. “… Why?”

Twilight glanced back and forth briefly, ensuring none of the humans were within earshot. “Piracy.”

“What? Wait, you mean…” Rarity looked alarmed as she trailed off, and Twilight answered her with a sharp nod. “Twilight, you’re going to get us thrown out of here!”

“Maybe. Wouldn’t it be worth it?” the Princess asked.

“Ah reckon it would, but do we have to do it first thing?” Applejack walked up alongside Twilight and leaned over best she could to whisper. “What exactly are the rules ‘round here? What kind of trouble are we walkin’ into? We gonna have the entire station gunnin’ fer us?”

“My understanding is that most of the security here is decentralized, with only large or indiscriminate disruptions subject to organized suppression and retaliation,” Twilight said back. “But we don’t need to do anything yet. I want to get a look at the slave market first.”

“To check out the defenses?” Pinkie asked, now crouched on top of Applejack for some reason.

“Yes. It’s something I’ve read about in detective stories: just like armies need to scout out the opposition first, criminals will often visit and study a target first to understand how to proceed with a heist.”

“And now we’re the criminals. Ugh,” Rarity groaned.

“Well, yes, but it’s for a good cause,” Twilight retorted. “If we’re going to be lawless brigands and thieves, we should at least steal from evildoers when we get the chance, right?”

“What are you equines whispering about over there?” Jerriha asked.

The ponies all stopped talking, suddenly remembering that there was a squad of Fire Warriors behind them. Twilight suddenly jumped up and shifted into a hover, swiveling around to face the Fireblade while still following her friends.

“Shas’vre, about our earlier mutual agreement not to help if one of us started any trouble…” Twilight began, coughing meaningfully. “I would like to renegotiate those terms.”

Jerriha hesitated, and then crossed her arms over her chest. “You want to rob the spice market, don’t you?”

“No,” Twilight replied, chuckling.

“Maybe later,” Pinkie added.

“NO,” Twilight reiterated with less amusement.

“All right, equine,” Jerriha stepped closer to the Princess and leaned in over her, “I’m listening.”

---

Mining nexus Ishrem
Interior deck 3-9
Tertiary spool

“Well, well, look who it is! Again the mighty warrior graces us void dregs with his presence! Ha!”

“You running off to the women the moment you get on deck, Daniels? Don’t even have time to say hi to yer mates?”

Wyatt Daniels slowed his pace at the sounds of heckling and glanced over at the men who had shouted to him. They were seated next to a water pipe slowly drizzling its contents onto the ground, and one of the men was watching a backpack-sized canister fill from the drainage while the other sat on a railing.

“Which void dregs do I have the honor of speaking to today, specifically? It’s been a while and I didn’t spend much of the last visit sober,” Daniels replied, his hand resting on his holstered laspistol.

“You mean you forgot your old buddy Talgard? And after I paid for most of that drink, too!” grunted the man filling the canister.

“I don’t remember your name, but I remember that I bought my own grog after taking some fool’s savings in a card game,” Daniels scoffed. “I’m busy now, but if you’ve scraped together some more money I can win it from you later.”

“Don’t feel like you need to cut your cuddling time short on our account, merc,” sneered Talgard. Then he glanced at something over Daniels’ shoulder. “What about your lady friend there? Does she play?”

Daniels at first thought it was a joke or a trick to get him to turn around, but then the subject of the question replied.

“I’m probably pretty rusty and all I’ve got to bet with are a handful of ration tins, but I know the rules.” Erin Whyd stood at the corner behind Daniels, leaning against the wall of a metal shack.

“No money, eh? Looks like even the mighty warriors of Chaos are falling on hard times,” snickered the other man. “What’s your name, love? I’m Karvel.”

“You can call me Whyd,” Erin said, walking up next to Daniels.

“And what’s a lovely little thing like you doing in a heap like this?” Karvel continued, leaning forward.

“A heap? It’s rather cozy compared to what I’m used to,” Erin laughed. Then she stepped up next to Daniels and waved at them. “We have an appointment right now, but I’ll check back if I have time for cards, all right?”

“’We?’ What’s this ‘we’ stuff? I don’t know you,” Daniels retorted, stepping away warily.

“We’re part of the same army!” Erin protested.

“That doesn’t mean you’re with me,” Daniels said firmly.

“Are those armored, four-legged xenos with you, then?” Talgard asked.

Daniels heard the sound of metal scraping against metal and he whirled around. Poison Kiss, Breezy Blight, and Rot Blossom were on the other side of the shack, peeking around the corner. Blossom ducked back, as if she was trying to hide, but Breezy didn’t bother and Kiss waved coyly.

“No. They’re not with me. None of them are with me,” Daniels said decisively. He turned away and started to walk off.

“What… What are they?” Talgard asked. The two men were visibly wary now, although they were less spooked by the appearance of small, armored alien creatures and more by the very visible guns that were attached to their legs.

“Why don’t you walk over and ask them? I’m busy,” the mercenary grumbled, continuing on his way.

Daniels walked through the residential plaza, approaching one of the large columns that spanned the height of the mining nexus. The “streets” of Ishrem didn’t have many people out and about, and more than half of them were from the 38th Company’s fleet like he was. Mercenaries and menials bearing the Chaos amulets that served as their identification tags wandered about the asteroid base like awestruck tourists, with small groups of men often followed by a few ponies. The residents of Ishrem, usually happy to approach new arrivals for trade, begging, or some old-fashioned theft, seemed unusually subdued on this occasion. Daniels saw several of them watching him and the other arrivals from behind windows or railings, and unlike the men at the water pipe none of them bothered to call out or greet him.

Daniels assumed that part of this new caution was the ponies. The equines trotting through the shacks and stills (and occasionally flying over them to the higher decks) were aliens, after all, even if they were almost obnoxiously friendly. And many of them were also psykers, which would become evident the moment a unicorn needed to move something.

Then again, it could also be because some of them were hauling around wargear comparable to a Space Marine.

Daniels stopped and whirled around, glaring down the path behind him. Erin and Phage Squadron, who were following some 20 feet behind him on the main avenue, immediately stopped and looked away in different directions, as if they were idly marveling at the scenery.

“Why are you lot following me?” Daniels demanded.

“It’s a coincidence,” Erin said. “We’re just headed to the same place.”

“You’re going to the brothel?”

“What? Do they not serve my kind there?” Erin asked, planting a fist on her hip.

“That type being ‘destitute refugee,’ no, they don’t,” Daniels scoffed. Then he lowered his gaze to Poison Kiss. “I don’t think they serve ponies, either.”

“We’re just a mite curious, is all,” Kiss assured him.

“We don’t know a lot about human sexuality. You guys don’t really like to talk about it, and there aren’t many women in the fleet to begin with,” Blossom added.

Breezy ruminated for a few seconds, scraping her boot against the chin of her helmet. “So you don’t think they serve ponies? You’re not sure?”

“Breezy, lass, simmer down,” Kiss retorted. “These blokes haven’t even seen a pony before. And we don’t have any scratch, remember?”

“Ugh. Fine. What do I care?” Daniels grumbled, turning back around and trudging further up the path. “You came all this way, may as well get a classic Ishrem visitor experience!”

“The experience of its brothel?” Erin asked.

“The experience of getting booted from a storefront because you’re broke,” the mercenary corrected.

“Oh, how nostalgic! That’s also a classic Adrast experience!” Erin chuckled. “The more things change, the more they stay the same, eh?”

“You humans are so obsessed with economy,” Breezy grumbled as she sped up to trot alongside Daniels. “Everywhere you go it’s commerce and contracts and quotas and production and murder!”

“That last one isn’t really economic,” Erin said. “Very important, but not a productive form of activity or management of resources.”

“Of course it is! We’re pirates!” Daniels scoffed.

“You’d trade for the booty if you could,” she argued. “If not, then why is the fleet letting the crew loose in here rather than charging in the Astartes to kill the owners and strip the place?”

Daniels didn’t have an immediate answer to that, but Rot Blossom suddenly piped up. “Speaking of Astartes, I didn’t see any at the dock. Aren’t they going to visit Ishrem? I only saw humans, ponies, and a few DarkMech leave the Harvest. Oh, and those Fire Warriors too.”

“I’m sure a few will come on board. If I recall, the Warsmith usually deals with the station head personally. But otherwise they don’t bother. Waste of time if there’s no killing to do.” Daniels shrugged.

“That’s a mite bleak, innit?” Kiss asked. “They have no interest in baubles or delicacies or games or drugs or…” she trailed off and nudged her head in the direction they were walking.

“Nope. And we’re all better for it, if you ask me,” Daniels grunted. “Amenities and entertainment for us wee, fragile mortals, confinement and prayer for the lords of Chaos.”

“I’ll bet money would be less of a sticking point with an Iron Warrior tagging along, though,” Erin mumbled.

“If you think so, feel free to go back to the ship and ask,” Daniels replied.

“Worse they can do is say no!” Kiss said brightly.

“They can do much, much worse than that, actually. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Why are all these people here, anyway? How do you end up actually living in a place like this?” Breezy asked.

“There are worse places, honestly, although even a lousy world usually has oxygen and gravity outside the primary habitation zones. If the main reactor fails here, there’s nowhere to go except to beg, sneak, or fight your way onto a docked ship.” Daniel scratched the back of his head and sighed. “As for where they come from, some of them are pirates like us, some are the unlucky offspring of pirates like us, and nearly all the rest are refugees.”

“Like her?” Blossom asked, nudging her head toward Erin.

“There’s a lot of us throughout the Imperium. Criminals, heretics, and honest folk who were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Erin sighed. “There’s a lot of men and resources devoted to hunting us, but there’s always more victims than enforcers and holes in every dragnet. Some of us always get away.”

“Of course, there’s not a lot of places to go if the Imperium wants to murder you. Chaos fleets are hard to come by and not known for their hospitality, xenos will kill you just as surely as any Imperial patrol, and it’s pretty hard to survive without the resources of a proper civilization to support and defend human life.” Daniels smiled and looked up at the tower ahead of them, stretching from floor to ceiling and dotted with slim, opaque windows. “Still, the galaxy’s a big place and humans are pretty good at finding little nooks of it to live in.”

“Our planet is a ‘xeno’ planet and we’re not hostile to humans,” Kiss said once the mercenary was finished. She sounded genuinely offended at the prospect, which Erin and Daniels found positively heartwarming.

“Technically it’s a Chaos world now,” Daniels corrected her with a smirk, “but the hospitality is outstanding, I’ll give you that.”

They reached a small plaza that surrounded one of the great columns and was separated from the rest of the area by a tarnished railing. There were many men loitering about, almost all of them bearing the Chaos Star that identified them as servants of the 38th Company. A pair of large guards – prominently armed but also dressed in moderately clean, well-fit uniforms – were moving through the customers, asking them questions, and jotting down notes on their dataslates. Daniels hopped the railing, and almost immediately one of the guards spotted him and approached.

“Mister Daniels, it’s a pleasure to see your safe return. Welcome once again to Hunter’s Den,” the man announced.

A respirator mask and flight goggles completely obscured his face, and otherwise clashed with his clean, bright blue jacket and slacks, but the outfit seemed very appropriate for a voidborne establishment that mostly catered to criminals and addicts. Even more so with the pair of stub pistols secured in twin holsters at his belt.

“Thanks for having me! How’s the wait time?” the mercenary asked brightly.

“Terrible, like every time your master’s ship makes port here,” the guard huffed. “We triple the rates, but it barely slows you mongrels down.”

Daniels was about to say something else, but the guard suddenly stepped to the side and his free hand moved to his holster. “What are these things? They came from your ship, didn’t they?!”

Phage squadron had been watching quietly from outside the railing, and they recoiled in alarm as the man approached and drew his stub pistol. “Why aren’t your xeno beasts caged? Or at least restrained?! You’re going to get someone killed letting them run about the place!”

“Keep yer hair on,” Poison Kiss huffed, staring directly at the man through the glowing crimson lens of her visor, “we’re proper members of the cult, not feral riff-raff.”

The guard was obviously surprised to hear the alien speak perfectly intelligible (if not strangely accented) Gothic, but it didn’t deter him. “Intelligent xenos. Fine. That doesn’t make you less dangerous. Quite the opposite.”

“Rubbish! We’re not dangerous!” Kiss insisted.

“You have a boltgun, a blade, power armor, and I’m pretty sure that iconography belongs to the dark god of plagues,” the guard retorted.

Kiss sputtered indignantly for a few seconds, and then coughed to clear her throat. “I was REFERRING to ‘we’ as a species. The median pony, if you will. Not dangerous!”

“Okay but we specifically are, though,” Breezy added regretfully.

“REALLY dangerous,” Blossom agreed. “Sometimes not even on purpose!”

As Kiss groaned, the guard turned back to Daniels. “Get these freaks out of here. We don’t want your crazy Warp monsters or chatty xenos scaring the customers!”

“Fine! Fine! We’re leaving!” Kiss snapped, turning away. “You could’ve just said ‘customers only,’ you numpty!” Breezy and Blossom were visibly disappointed despite their expressions being hidden under their helmets, and they turned to follow the unicorn while she trudged back to the main avenue.

“Good. Now what about you?” The guard beckoned to Erin Whyd, finally releasing his grip on his gun. He walked up to her and crossed his arms over his chest. “We cater mainly to male clientele, but we should have what you’re looking for. You into men or women?”

Erin didn’t answer right away, staring up at the column tower and the surrounding constructs silently. Then she smiled politely at the guard and shook her head.

“I’m just window shopping. Don’t suppose you have an illustrated catalog or a menu or anything?” she asked wryly.

“Get lost,” the guard grunted in reply before turning back to Daniels. “Xenos and deadbeats. What kind of companions are you running with these days, Daniels?”

“I thought quality companionship was what I pay YOU for,” the mercenary retorted, offering a little wave as Erin wandered away.

Erin Whyd sped up a bit to catch up with Phage squadron, falling in behind Rot Blossom. The mares all glanced back to check on her, and then continued onward up the street of scrap plating.

“Well that was a bust. Disappointing, but I can’t say I’m surprised,” Kiss admitted.

“Why did you want to check out a human whorehouse anyway? Did you think you would get to watch or something?” Erin asked, catching up to the mares.

“No, don’t be daft,” Kiss scoffed. “I just wanted to see what a place like that looked like, and maybe have a chin wag with one of the escorts. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“I was kinda hoping to get a peek at the real thing, actually,” Breezy mumbled.

“Breezy,” Blossom said flatly, staring at the pegasus.

“Oh, as if you’re not the least bit curious!” Breezy snapped back. “Do they stand on two legs the entire time? What’s the foreplay like? I’ll bet they do all sorts of weird stuff with those hands!”

Erin snorted trying to contain laughter, and Poison Kiss looked up at her again.

“ANYWAY, that’s our story. How about you, Miss Whyd? Were you really banking that Mister Daniels would spot you?” asked the unicorn.

Erin quickly glanced about and then sighed. “No. I wasn’t looking to buy, I was scoping out a potential employer.”

Kiss stumbled, Blossom froze mid-stride, and Breezy jumped up, spun around 180 degrees with her flight pack, and then landed facing their human tag-along. “What?”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Erin said. “Not that I think anyone in the fleet would really care, but I don’t know how paranoid they are about operational security.”

“You want to leave the 38th Company? Why would you do that?!” Kiss asked. She sounded genuinely hurt and confused at the prospect, which Erin found adorable and a little frustrating.

“I ended up with you all because the choice was go with Twilight Sparkle or get violated by aliens and turned into some sort of brainwashed baby incubator. Not a hard decision. But I didn’t sign on to join the forces of Chaos as they cut a bloody swathe through humanity.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I thought you DID sign up for that. Like, literally. Aren’t you a Fire Lancer now? One of the human soldiers with pulse rifles and stuff?” Breezy asked.

“No. The contract’s ready, I just…” Erin trailed off and took the Chaos Star hanging around her neck between her fingers. She grimaced. “If I walk this path, then I’m committing to serve a band of inhuman murderers. To fight their enemies. To kill the defenders of the Imperium.”

“Well… yeah. Isn’t that what you were doing before?” Blossom asked.

“Yes. Although I didn’t know I was serving a band of inhuman murderers before. It’s made me rethink some things.” She sighed and scrubbed her hair with her hand. “I’m not sure yet if I’d rather live here. But I should make a decision soon; I doubt there are many other places you travel to that aren’t completely infested by Chaos.”

“You should at least wait to see Equestria before you leave!” Kiss insisted.

“She said she’s looking for places that AREN’T infested by Chaos,” Breezy reminded her.

“It’s not! Not completely!” Kiss huffed. “Anyway, if you were looking for work here, why would you go to the brothel first? Aren’t you experienced with security?”

“Yeah. My prospects around here should be pretty good, actually,” Erin admitted, “but… honestly, I’d like to try a job where I don’t kill people. You know, for a change.”

The group advanced in silence after that, stewing on Erin’s words. The flickering lume boards and thrumming pipes passed them by, taking the four guests past the residency spools and toward the back of the massive cavity that contained most of the station’s settlement. There were several residents who spotted them on their walk, and every one of them immediately turned away or retreated inside at the sight of them. Erin had to assume she had Phage Squadron to thank for their caution.

Eventually Poison Kiss slowed down so that she was walking alongside Erin and her helmet disengaged. The plating split open and broke loose over the gorget, and then Kiss levitated it off and to her side so that she could look at Erin directly.

“I’ve heard a little bit of what went on down there. Some kind of aliens chased you out, right?” Kiss asked. “It sounds like a right mess. I can understand why you'd want to settle for something a little less exciting after a fracas like that.”

“It wasn’t the aliens, really,” Erin said, looking away. “The freaky monsters don’t bother me. Hideous bugs, very scary, sure. But…” She took a deep breath, clearly steeling herself. “The people. I killed a lot of people. People I KNEW. People who were my friends that very morning. Every one of them would have turned a gun on me in an eye blink and killed me for… for what? Some voice in their head? I don’t get it. Maybe I don’t want to get it.”

The mares stopped walking, all of them turning around to face her.

“Byron. Byron escaped with us. He helped us. Fought with us, although he wasn’t good at that. Infected the entire time. A monster. Or something. I can’t make any sense of it, but his intentions were clear enough when he tried to stick a bomb on the Warsmith. Was he even in control of his own mind? His body? I don’t know.” She shuddered and hugged herself, rubbing her arms together. “I watched him die there, in the medicae. He looked… so scared. Paralyzed with terror. Like he couldn’t believe what he had just tried to do. I’ve felt kind of… numb ever since.”

The ponies winced. Kiss walked closer, giving the refugee a sad smile. “Being on a Chaos ship can’t have been pleasant after all that, eh?”

“It’s not that bad, actually. I look at it like the Genestealers. Monsters. Aliens. Freaks from the void. You point a weapon at them and squeeze the trigger, and never think about it again.” She sighed and reached over to Kiss.

Erin hesitated, her fingers hovering near Kiss’s head uncertainly. The mare leaned into her hand, smiling happily when Erin started scratching at her ears.

“It’s the cults I’m afraid of. The wars. This… weird, stupid grudge with the Imperium of Man. I don’t want to kill or die for some las batteries or whatever it is you’re taking from our hive cities, much less for some crazy dark gods.” She took her hand away from the unicorn’s mane with a sigh. “But most of all, I don’t want to have to point a gun at any of you because your deity decided I was a threat or the next convert or something. Understand?”

“Clear as crystal,” Kiss said, her voice grim and serious. “Although Grandfather Nurgle’s hardly the sort to order the assassinations of individual mortals, so you probably don’t have to worry about us specifically.”

“She’d probably have to put a bullet into Shifty eventually, though,” Breezy Blight giggled.

“All the more glum that she’s leaving us,” Kiss sighed.

“Hey! Hey, girls! Look at this!”

The shout from Blossom startled the others, and they realized that the earth pony had advanced well ahead of the group. She had stopped on the side of the path, staring at something partially hidden behind a boarded-up building that looked like it had once served as a kitchen.

Rushing to meet her, Erin and the rest of Phage Squadron immediately spotted what she was talking about. A small blast door was located on the bulkhead wall at the end of an alley, and the entire path had black and yellow warning tape strung loosely across the path. Signs were hung on the tape and sides of the alley, all of them either illustrating some unspecified danger or warning the reader to turn back. The door itself was shut with a formidable-looking plasteel lock that spanned the width of the door and clamped onto the frame to seal it. A large biohazard symbol, nearly identical to Kiss’s cutie mark, was spray painted across the door and lock.

“Well that’s interesting. Wonder what the bother’s all about?” Kiss asked, cocking her head to the side.

“There’s a meme-tag, Kiss! It says this is an infestation quarantine! Look! Look!” Rot Blossom was visibly excited, practically dancing from hoof to hoof as she read the warning on her visor display.

“Infestation? Of what? We’re in space!” Poison Kiss scoffed.

“There are pests that come from the void, too,” Erin advised the ponies. “But more likely it’s just some terrestrial pest that snuck aboard and got into the food supplies. If humans can survive here, other creatures can, too.”

“Let’s check it out!” Blossom said.

“Are you daft? It’s a quarantine!” Kiss scoffed.

“So what? We’re Nurgle cult! What kind of infestation are we afraid of?” Breezy asked.

“There are other reasons not to break a quarantine aside from risks to ourselves!” Kiss replied sharply. “Besides, what about Miss Whyd? You just want to leave her alone in the middle of this skeevy place?”

“It’s fine, I can go with you,” Erin volunteered, ducking under the caution tape and approaching the door. Blossom squealed happily and jumped over another patch of caution tape to join her.

“What? No! It’s a needless risk!” the unicorn argued, wagging an armored hoof at the others.

“Don’t be a wet blanket, Kiss,” Breezy said, smirking. “Let’s explore the spooky infested room!”

“And how do you reckon to do that? Can your bad breath dissolve that lock?” Kiss snorted. “I don’t have any spells that can do the job.”

“I got it,” Erin announced, drawing a combat knife from her leg holster. She stabbed it under the lock’s main brace, and then started wrenching it back and forth.

“You… You what?” Poison Kiss watched Breezy follow the others into the alley, her expression one of stunned surprise.

“These lock patterns are pretty common. I used to see them all the time in abandoned work sites in the underhive. There’s an emergency release that resets the key combination… there!” A heavy thunk came from the device, and a large dial popped out on the lock’s front. Erin put away her knife and turned the dial until another click came from the device. She pushed it in, and then lifted the entire mechanism off the door and tossed it away.

“What’s the point of a lock that anyone can open?” Breezy asked.

“They’re for safety more than security. Blasted things keep getting left behind and rediscovered after the folk who know the key combo are long gone. So there’s another way to open them besides melta cutters or krak charges, although you wouldn’t know it unless someone taught you what to look for.”

“Do you ever open one of the locks and explore the room beyond it only to realize that whatever was on the other side should have stayed locked away?” Kiss asked.

“Yes, frequently. So, shall we?” Erin took the door’s main latch and wrenched it open.

“Yay!” Blossom jumped up and down in glee and immediately rushed through the passageway as soon as the door was open wide enough for her.

“You sure you’re going to be okay? You’re not really armored up or… anything,” Kiss asked Erin while Breezy ducked into the quarantine zone.

“I’ve ignored MUCH more ominous warning signs than these before,” Erin assured her. “I’ll just keep behind you girls, if it’s all the same.”

“Cheers!” Kiss chirped, putting her helmet back on and trotting into the doorway.

Erin looked over her shoulder as she followed the ponies into the dark, and then carefully pulled the door closed behind her.

---

Mining nexus Ishrem
Sub-deck 2-2
Waste processing access

“Ah, here we are. I believe this is what we’re looking for.”

Mantis and Vinyl walked through the access tunnel while surrounded by a ring of armed ponies. The tunnel was big enough to drive a transport vehicle through, although they had to guess it hadn’t seen any such treatment in a very long while. Dirt and garbage were piled up along the wall, and puddles of filthy water stretched across the path. The lumens barely worked, casting the tunnel in a pale gloom, and a rancid smell blanketed the entire space.

“Ugh. Wish I brought my respirator,” Vinyl grumbled, gagging.

“It’s best that we are exposed,” Mantis replied. “These people are used to being looked down on. Observed like animals and vermin from behind masks and gun barrels. Some measure of vulnerability and sympathetic experience is necessary to appeal to them.”

“We’re bringing a lot of guns, though,” Lightning Dust interjected.

“Yes. Well. It wouldn’t do to be too vulnerable. The galaxy is a dangerous place,” Mantis retorted. He stamped his braced leg on the floor for emphasis.

“Hello, what’s this?” one of the guards shined her tactical lumen ahead, illuminating the end of the passageway where all the system lighting had failed.

The path was blocked by a massive metal door secured by a big disk-shaped mag lock. The door was smeared with the same degree of filth and rust as the rest of the passageway, but the lock was curiously pristine. Mantis walked up to the barrier, his eyes narrowing. His horns lit up with magic energy, and a small purple sphere appeared and floated nearby to fill the corridor with light. There was a cogitator nearby, but it had been smashed in and was obviously inoperable.

“The console isn’t going to work. I wonder how long it’s been like this.” He looked back and forth, his expression souring. “Why would they lock down the underdeck slum? As it was explained to me, they use these people for fresh slaves and the most dangerous labor. Preventing access harms the station as well as the people here.”

“Maybe the people got sick of it and rebelled?” Vinyl asked. “Is there someone we can ask? Or some kind of station log?”

“They didn’t tell us a lot about this place when we set out,” Mantis admitted. “I’d prefer not to have to deal with Ishrem’s security to do this, but without knowing what happened I don’t really want to circumvent the door either…”

“Hold on a sec,” Lightning Dust said, tapping the side of her visor. She pulled down a headset vox receiver with her wing and then blink-clicked the local signum node. Data screed filled her visor input for a moment, and she waited patiently for the link to connect.

“… Acolyte! Hi! It’s Captain Lightning Dust from… yes. Of course you knew that. Okay, so… we have a situation here. Underdecks are locked down and we don’t know why.”

The others waited patiently while Lightning spoke, with most of the pony guards forming a loose half-circle around Mantis and Vinyl. Vinyl was refashioning her cloak into a mask to help filter the air, while Mantis continued to study the door and its seal.

“Really? Is that normal? Huh. So we have no idea what’s back there? Okay… uh huh.”

After a few more seconds Lightning Dust turned to address Mantis. “DarkMech says there’s no obvious danger on the other side as far as they can tell from system feedback and noosphere flags. Air is breathable but contains a lot of, uh... carbons, I guess? He said ‘carbon’ a lot when he was rattling off chemicals.” She paused. “Oh, okay. Specifically it’s the kind of carbons left over from fires.”

“Fires? Was there an accident down here?” Vinyl asked.

Mantis narrowed his eyes. “There’s currently no fires in that zone? Our Techpriests can tell?”

“Yeah. Air flow and temperature is normal, he said.”

“Then group up. We’re going in,” the Hierophant declared.

“Thanks, Acolyte!” Lightning chirped before switching off the vox link. Then she and the rest of the guards moved in, standing close enough to the Cabal unicorns that their legs brushed each other.

“Scratch,” Mantis said, his eyes starting to fill with magical power.

Vinyl lifted her head, and her horn was surrounded by a shroud of magenta energy. The light seeped upward and collected in a single point, and then sunk down to the floor below. It touched the surface and then raced across the deck, drawing a circle around the group of ponies that flared up like flames racing along spilled promethium.

“Dark Gods, guide our path into the unknown, and let all who would stand before us tremble as these unholy shadows lengthen. Viermai!”

With that final, largely unintelligible shout, the magical energies reached their apex and swallowed the ponies entirely.

---

A halo of light appeared and pulsed, briefly painting the hallway magenta. Then it receded, leaving eight ponies standing in pitch darkness with a set of blast doors behind them.

The lumens attached to their weapons flickered briefly, disrupted by the teleportation, and then turned back on. Those who had theirs off before quickly worked to activate them, and soon a half-dozen cones of light were sweeping over the waste processing entrance.

There was little to see. The space immediately before the doors looked much like the corridor outside it. In this section, however, the lights were completely non-functional. Further ahead the space widened, and the degree of trash strewn about increased. Heaps of it were cast against the bulkheads, built up into slopes of filth. There were also canals built into the deck and pipes running along the wall, but these constructs were completely overwhelmed by the garbage.

Mantis stepped forward, and his snout wrinkled. “Yes, I definitely smell smoke. There was a fire in here.”

“Well the DarkMech said it was good enough to breathe, but I’m not so sure those guys have a great sense for how much smoke is unsafe for us squishy types. You know, what with their faces having respirators grafted on and stuff,” Lightning Dust admitted. “You want to go back? I don’t see anyone here, anyway.”

“No. The smoke isn’t bad, and we can barely see any of the slum from here. We proceed until we find a potential threat,” Mantis commanded, once again generating a magical orb of light above him.

The ponies advanced slowly, the guards studying the wreckage and piles of trash as they advanced. After some fifty meters the refuse changed from mounds of dirt, wrappings, and rags to hunks of scrap metal and dirty sheets. These made up what passed for living accommodations in the slum, forming tiny shacks and tents lined up amongst the heaps that were piled against the bulkheads. Or, at least, they used to.

The slum was in a state of violent disarray that was quite obvious despite the profound poverty of the settlement. Most of the “buildings” were burned. Some had been smashed apart. Most importantly, there was no sign of anyone at all. The ruins were empty, there were no bodies, and no one had come to meet the intruders walking through the sub-deck.

“Well the fire doesn’t look like it completely consumed this place, I guess. I hope the residents got out,” Lightning Dust mumbled.

Mantis stopped, staring at the flooring while his light orb hovered overhead. He grimaced. “This wasn’t a fire. At least, not like you’re imagining.”

“What? What do you mean?” Vinyl Scratch asked.

“Look at the scorch marks on the ground. They all fan out from the central walkway to the burnt dwellings. The dwellings themselves are charred, but the burns don’t follow from one cabin to another as you would expect from a spreading fire. These points were burnt separately.” He paused, his ears falling flat against his head. “And deliberately.”

“Flamers?” Vinyl gasped.

“Yes. There was some kind of violent incident here, but it doesn’t look like there was a battle. No signs of gunfire or blood, and no bodies. I imagine-“

A horrified yelp came from ahead, and the soldiers all stumbled to attention. Mantis whipped his head around, his ears perked for any sounds of violence. In the space ahead the waste processing facility split apart into multiple sections that hosted the machineries dedicated to this place. Huge vats, reprocessors, macro-pumps, and filtration engines had once filled the rooms and halls, but decades of scavenging and decay had left them as little more than empty alcoves and pits to hold more garbage and sewage.

One of the guards, an earth pony mare, had moved ahead of the others and turned the corner. She was shining her gun lumen into one such alcove, the beam quivering along with her legs. She stared for several seconds, and then turned her eyes away. The other ponies rushed to join her, Mantis at the head.

He grimaced once his light orb illuminated the room and exposed the source of her surprise. “I see we’ve found the residents.”

This section’s processing vat had been filled with burnt human remains. Little more than scorched bone and ash was left, and thin wisps of smoke still rose from the buried embers. A few corpses laid outside the pit and had not been burned so thoroughly, as if they had clawed their way out of the pyre but died before they could escape. Unlike the rest of the slum they had explored so far, here dried blood painted the deck in long slashes and thick pools and bullet casings were scattered across the ground, gleaming in the light.

“By Celestia…” Vinyl Scratch gaped, stumbling backward. “They’re… They’re dead? All of them?”

“I believe so. The effort to destroy this place seemed quite thorough,” Mantis said darkly.

“Why? The Iron Warriors said they used these people, right? So… So why would they…?”

Mantis shook his head. “There were supposedly many mutants among the populace here. Maybe they became a threat. Or perhaps the food and water supplies simply could not cope with the total population. Regardless, it hardly seems like the slum fought back. This was a massacre, not a battle.”

He frowned deeply, levitating one of the casings up from the floor. Lightning Dust stepped up next to him, and she arched her eyebrow.

“That’s not from an autogun,” the pegasus said, her voice carrying deep concern, “that’s a boltgun casing.”

“What, like the Astartes use? There were Space Marines here?”

“I guess? … Wait, I think there’s words engraved on it.” Lightning Dust took the casing with the feather tips of her wing, and then turned it over so that the writing was illuminated by the light orb. “It says ‘in the name of the God-Emperor, I am deliverance.’”

“That… That’s not good, is it? That sounds really bad,” Vinyl remarked, nervously looking back at the rows of ruined shacks.

“Captain Dust, I need you to ring up the Dark Mechanicus again,” Mantis commanded, his voice grim, “we have a situation.”

Author's Note:

This chapter went a little faster than the last one. I'm still working on redoing that lost Gears chapter though.
Black Horizons is taking a long time to conclude, but that's probably fine.

Comments

[Venerable Ro]

Oh dear, dot's gonna be an issue.

Fortunately ponies are an out-of-context problem.

[cccmiller]

“It says ‘in the name of the God-Emperor, I am deliverance.’”

“That… That’s not good, is it? That sounds really bad,” Vinyl remarked, nervously looking back at the rows of ruined shacks.

“Captain Dust, I need you to ring up the Dark Mechanicus again,” Mantis commanded, his voice grim, “we have a situation.”

Space Marine chapter, Deathwatch or Inquisition? Place your bets people!

[Mp40]

星際戰士來了

[Mister Morden]

Seeing a new chapter of this story always puts a smile on my face. This one is getting interesting! Twilight and co are going to steal slaves, Phage Squadron is breaking into a quarantine area. And the recruitment team has found evidence of Imperial Astartes active on the station.

[Corax Morn]

11498126
Sounds like Raven Guard to me.

[SirAquila]

“Oh, so… we should be on our best behavior not to embarrass the Warsmith?”

Yes, so we expect you intimidate at least one merchant for a lower price, and shoot everyone who treats you poorly. We have a reputation to uphold.

[Booster Spice]

Uhoh, theyve been, Visited, but noones saying anything about recent times?

That means recent times are still Here.

I wonder what kind of runabout Pinkie is going to end up with this time?

Bits are no good even in small masses of gold used for circuitry, filigree and coatings?

Better get Solon on plotting the aparent random motions of a bunch of deflected rocks, seeing where the cascade is focusing them to, then scanning for higher than expected metallics in the other directions?

Teentz affects another of Nurgles moves through stealing Slanessh piece?

I wonder just how much fun the Dark Mechanicus are having being able to experiment with a magical dragon for techwarp purposes?

[Scratchpad]

11498126
I'm thinking sisters of battle. They use bolters and flamers, too.

"Data not found" is a perfectly sound Mechanicus phrasing, but I wonder if it was a Team Four Star reference? Absolutely loved the allowance bit with Rainbow Dash and Solon.

[Scratchpad]

11498152
Oddly, I feel that the 3 objectives are all connected. No idea how, but I just have a feeling.

[Mix-up]

Nice chapter love how things are shaping up at the moment, nice to see Mantis is going to part of the cast in the story in some way. I wonder what Solom is hopping to gain from attacking the Dark Eldar's? I wonder if the station was once used to recruit people by a space marine chapter, thought I doubt it if they are regularly expose. I wonder ow the 38th and the ponies will manage against a confrontation against a loyalist space marine chapter that isn't caught unaware like last time.

[Sarraceno]

"Shore leave" sure.... we already have pones poking where they shoudn't, Twilight going vigilante, Solon consideering seriously the matter of the webway and Comorragh, confirmation that some minor pantheon got his marks on Twilight, confirmed imperial presence, and for what looks like, SoB...

The inhabitants of the asteroid will not forget this "shore leave".... if they survive
What a can of worms is about to open

Can't wait

[Sarraceno]

11498441
I suspect SoB, not astartes... attacking a slum without apparent defense and real threat with bolters and flamethrowers, most loyalist would ignore such "target" because is literally beneath them. Scribbles in a bolt case, religious scribbles? The work of fanatics... and had been astartes those fanatic i REALLY doubt there was a asteroid station at all

[Mix-up]

11498454
I like it, but I wonder why the SoB would even bother coming to this run down station in the first place, any why they didn't stick around for the missionaries do their work in forcibly converting the entire population to the imperial creed. I could get they just happen to be around while on their way to another mission, but I have the feeling that they were there in force for the population and the chared mutants were just happenstance.

[Sarraceno]

11498486
That's also something i asking myself. Why they would be there first place (although is no secret that they barely need reasons to act). And most importantly, how did they arrive? Does the inhabitants of the station know this? I guess we'll have to wait and see

[SFaccountant]

11498441
Although the Space Marines routinely take recruits from criminals and primitive warbands, to my knowledge they don't regularly take spacers. I don't think there's a particular reason why other than that they prefer to have a particular world that they mostly control for themselves to take new blood from.
On the topic of Dark Eldar, Solon needs a little something from them... a ship.

11498454
What do you mean you doubt there was an asteroid station? Of course there's an asteroid station. They're on an asteroid station right now

[Sarraceno]

11498726
What i mean is that if that was the work of one of the most fanatic loyalist chapters (classic case would be black templars), the damages would be... FAR MORE extensive

[PonyList]

“Y’all are weird, y’know that?” Applejack griped. Then she turned around. “If ya wanna follow us then we ain’t gonna stop ya. Just don’t go startin’ no trouble and expectin’ us to help.”

So much for the Magic of Friendship, huh?

C’mon girls, it was just a little bit of genocide

[Wydril]

Perfect timing! I just finished my first re-read yesterday.

A harsh blast of static suddenly erupted from Kaelith, and he darted ahead. He scuttled away down the hall, several buzzing and sparking noises coming from within his hood.

Mechanicus Schism 2: Electric Boogaloo. Solon is standing in for the Emperor, telling the Dark Mechanicus what they're not allowed to research, and Kaelith is standing in for Fabricator-General Kelbor-Hal and the original Mechanicum, chafing under their restrictions and Solon's favoritism of Gaela.

Erin looked over her shoulder as she followed the ponies into the dark, and then carefully pulled the door closed behind her.

So Erin immediately scouts the security for the brothel before entering a quarantined area fearlessly. The Tyranids totally infected her at the last minute before she got to the Harvest of Steel and was tested, so it wouldn't be detectable, right? She's either looking for, or going to start, a genestealer cult on the station.

If there's one already being made, I'm betting one of those two smuggler ships picked up some refugees from Arghost.

[Hey its that Pony]

Hmm, that was an interesting bit of subconscious telekinesis that Trixie did. Wonder if this event has awoken something in her.
Seriths aloof affection has always been kinda sweet. Kind of. He doesn't want anything to be too apparent.

I just have this image of Rainbow Dash trying to trade her Shuriken Catapult for some big shooty thing she will find in the scrap or weapons market.
Speaking of which, I don't think the random local mentioned where the weapons market is. I assumed that Dash would want to go check that out.

Once again, dear Twilight is off to pick a fight with someone in an effort to maintain some semblance of her morality. She's sure to find someone of interest in the slave pit.

I really enjoy the atmosphere of "Adopted Sisters" that Phage Squadron has.

What a strange place to possibly find SoB. We're assuming that's what we're dealing with based on the evidence and the cover art.
They aren't really known for being stealthy so they must be working with the station heads on some level.
Or maybe... maybe this isn't just the Sisters. Maybe it's Inquisition meddling's and our pirates are about to stumble upon them. That could be far more dangerous than a random attack force of Battle Nuns.

Wait. I just realized that there wasn't any mention of our favorite dethroned bug queen. What's Chrysalis up to?

[Sarraceno]

11499142

Seriths aloof affection has always been kinda sweet. Kind of. He doesn't want anything to be too apparent.

And fails even more catastrophically than Sliver

They aren't really known for being stealthy so they must be working with the station heads on some level.
Or maybe... maybe this isn't just the Sisters. Maybe it's Inquisition meddling's and our pirates are about to stumble upon them. That could be far more dangerous than a random attack force of Battle Nuns.

An inquisitor and retinue would be interesting... also would explain the rather localized hit in the station... its true that SoB have really a HARD time of not being noticed

[SFaccountant]

11498752
Oh, I see. Yeah, you can rest assured that it wasn't the target of a full-scale Imperial assault, at least :D

11499142
It wasn't subconscious, Trixie was awake
As for the weapons market, Dash isn't really interested if she has no money. She's not gonna talk Rarity into buying her a missile launcher.

[Arzoo]

Aha. All the mentions about the subdued residents had me suspicious. This has got to be an ambush, since they left the "tourist" sector unharmed and mostly manned to avoid suspicion. Plus we're focusing on pony groups getting nosy about the places you normally avoid.

Or maybe I'm reading it wrong. Would any imperial force lay a trap rather than burn everything and leave? But again they clearly avoided destroying the visible parts.

As for the grudge against Twilight... She's a powerful wizard and pissed off Chaos directly, but is that enough for complicated hit jobs? It seems like Tzeentch wouldn't be after her, since she's sort of friends with Discord and she's probably his favorite kind of person to corrupt, but that was a fairly Tzeentch style assassination attempt, while the earlier attacks were more like Khorn. I wonder if this is all about her having stolen back souls, which does strike me as a pretty ultimate crime where daemons are concerned, or did using the Elements of Harmony do something much more damaging than expected; they appeared to break, but it's hard to tell since USUALLY they're the kind of artifact you can't truly destroy. Maybe the Elements are like a persistent painful thorn in the warp and their power is stuck there, constantly pissing off Chaos.

[GigaDragonXV2]

I'm surprised Rainbow would be interested in the spice market, although that Tyranid did stir things around in her head quite violently. Let's hope she doesn't get into anything with lethal withdrawal symptoms, that would be an embarrassing way to end up as a Nurgle cultist, especially since she's struck me as being more aligned with Khorne so far, if she ever cared to join one of the cults.

[RanmaChaos]

Thanks for another excellent chapter! Reading your works is always a delight!

[Nevermore777]

It kind of looks like Rarity is dueling a SoB in the cover art, and she isn’t wearing her helmet there, so considering she isn’t wearing her helmet here I’m guessing this is wear that duel is going to take place. The only question is where are the Sisters? They never struck me as caring for stealth all that much, though admittedly they’re one of the imperium factions I’m least familiar with.

Thinking about it though, they’re probably not just hiding on the station, they’re hiding their ships in the asteroid belt and waiting to ambush the fleet.

[geomease]

Those poor poison mares are never gonna get laid are they? Unless Erin joins them in the Nurgle cult maybe? I have a feel thats coming up. Fingers crossed, they already got head and ear scratchies so its a good first step.

Great chapter as always. Happy to see Sparkle using Piracy to her advantage.

[SFaccountant]

11502167
I... don't think that would help, though?

[herobrins mom]

11502209
...but she said she is not into men so maybie since she is probably experienced she could do it with those mares??
Also YAY I'm all caught up now!

[Sarraceno]

11506578
Those mares are straight... They are always complaining the lack of stallions in the cult

[SFaccountant]

11506764
Straight and have a strong equine preference, too.
I mean if any male would do they'd have lots of options...

[Aroddo]

@SFacountant

I just asked an AI to tell me your secrets. Turns out, you've been holding out on us!

Where is the story "The Iron Horse"?

According to chatGPT, it "follows the adventures of Twilight Sparkle and her friends as they are transported to the world of Warhammer 40k, where they must fight alongside the forces of the Imperium to defend against the forces of Chaos. The story is known for its engaging plot, well-written action scenes, and imaginative use of the two universes."

I want to read that! Why did you not post it! I'm sad!

You also wrote "The Revenant", "The Shattered Hopes of Harmony", and "Fighting is Magic".
Another no-show on fimfiction!

What gives, man? You paywalling the good stuff? Booo!

🤣🤣🤣

[SFaccountant]

11507242
That AI is clearly a saboteur in thrall to the False Emperor. I would NEVER write a loyalist story!

[Sarraceno]

11507242
AI stuff is wild.... still don't top the Batman's AI generated story....

[Aroddo]

11507694
You say that NOW after you hid all your past loyalist stories.

Fess up and release them!

[verypeeved]

11507694
That's exactly what a loyalist would say!

[ABitterPill]

Sorry it's taken me a while to review. Life has been unpleasant these last few months.

I get the strong feeling we're about to get the scene from the cover art. The Adepta Sororitas/Sisters of Battle are somehow on the station. The question is are they in control of the station, or working under the radar?

Even though it's incredibly unlikely, I still wanna pair Erin with Phage Squadron. Or perhaps have Erin join Phage Squadron, at least. I know it's highly unlikely, but after seeing them together like that, I really want to see more of it.
That Infestation area they're walking into... it either means more Tyranids, somehow, or the "infestation" is mutants and heretics to be purged, given what I think is going to happen above.

The Mane Six have taken better to the life of chaos piracy far better than they have any right to have. Twilight's now even planning acts of piracy of her own. ... and so are RD and Pinkie Pie. If they're not careful one of them is going to end up in the cult of Slaanesh, and then they'll end up in the have incinerators. Seriously, one of them is going to get a chaos mark by the end of this, I swear. I'm surprised Twilight doesn't have a Mark of Chaos Undivided around her Cutie Mark already. I wonder of her stalker from the warp is going to try something again on this station? Or perhaps they'll catch a break. We know they'll likely be heading to Commoragh eventually... that will be something.

Thank you very much for the chapter!

[ABitterPill]

11507242
11507694

This makes me want to know what the AI thinks of Warsmith Solon.

[Aroddo]

11530023

As an AI language model, I don't have personal opinions or feelings about characters in literature. However, I can provide some general information about Warsmith Solon from SFaccountant's "Age of Iron" series.

Warsmith Solon is a character in SFaccountant's "Age of Iron" series, which is a crossover between the My Little Pony and Warhammer 40k universes. In the series, Warsmith Solon is a member of the Iron Warriors legion, and is portrayed as a complex and multifaceted character.

Throughout the "Age of Iron" series, Warsmith Solon is shown to be a fierce warrior and a skilled tactician, but also a thoughtful and introspective individual who struggles with the weight of his responsibilities. He is also depicted as having a deep respect for the principles of honor and loyalty, which sometimes puts him at odds with his fellow Iron Warriors.

Overall, Warsmith Solon is a well-written and compelling character in SFaccountant's "Age of Iron" series, and his portrayal is a testament to the author's skill in crafting engaging and nuanced characters in a crossover setting.

[SFaccountant]

11507242
"Kind of a dork. Not a fan."

11530307
Remember, robots lie to you

[Aroddo]

11530584
On the other hand, some answers are just hilarious:

I'm impressed that the AI knows so much. Your post inspired me to ask AI about me.

Bad Dragon: Can you tell me about the My Little Pony fanfiction author named Bad Dragon?

ChatGPT: I'm sorry, but I cannot provide information about a My Little Pony fanfiction author named Bad Dragon because such an author does not exist.

"Bad Dragon" is actually a brand name for a company that produces a line of fantasy-themed sex toys. While it is possible that someone with the screen name "Bad Dragon" has written My Little Pony fanfiction, there is no well-known author within the fandom that goes by this name.

Turns out, I don't even exist...

😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[Sarraceno]

11530022
i wouldn't be surprised at all, i keep thinking there's the Inquisition involved... and is known that SoB sometimes tag along, specially with the Hereticus branch.
I agree, the chemistry between Erin and Phage Squadron is quite wholesome IMO, although i neither think it will go really further.

[ABitterPill]

11531119

You should ask it something like a paradox. "Describe the sound of blue" or "The following statement is true. The previous statement is false"

[Dragon Turtle]

11498288
I'm betting that the purging of the slums is why the slave market is so small and off to the side.

[Dragon Turtle]

Everything with Erin Whyd is really interesting. I was not expecting her to have an arc so soon after leaving the Genestealers behind. It’s very rare. We ever have a character in 40K who is given a crossroads to CHOOSE where they end up. Even rarer that she’s examining the prospects on something OTHER than fighting/survival capabilities. Heck, she may want to leave fighting entirely!

I also wasn’t expecting Phage Squadron to get this kind of central interaction. I figured they would just pop in and out of scenes to talk about plague stuff, now and again.

11500367
She’s too much of a slacker to devote herself to a God. And her loyalty to her friends and the Princesses is probably stronger.

[Chillean]

Just finished rereading, can't wait to find out what happens next.

Just wanted to note: Pics that are attached are no longer being displayed in the story, not sure if you noticed.

[SFaccountant]

11606398
I have noticed. Apparently Imgur isn't any good for image uploading anymore
I'm gonna have to find another site.

[Dragon Turtle]

There were numerous people on the deck that weren’t from the fleet, most of them moving crates or simply watching the new arrivals. Most of these individuals stared in disbelief and fascination at the ponies disembarking the ship, and several moved toward the crush of humans to ask about the colorful aliens.

This is something I'd have loved to read dialogue or POV of. I'm really curious how the dregs and casts off of the Imperium would be reacting to an exotic new Xeno species. Particularly one that looks so familiar to a lot of humans (assuming they’re in a local that knows what horses are). The Chaos pirates and Marines we've been following were kind of blase about the Equestrian's appearances, thanks to seeing so much weird stuff in their service and travels.

So how big is Ishrem's asteroid in terms of dimensions? It just says that it's several times the size of the Harvest.

[Aroddo]

I just spotted an inconsistency in the story with this scene and what follows it in Black Horizons chapter 12 -Shore Leave:

“What?! You mean we could be getting paid for this?! I thought we were fighting for Equestria’s survival or something!” Rainbow said.

Rainbow Dash explicitly stated the she was getting paid for her services to the fleet in Entrenchment chapter 2 -Departure:

"I don't have those either! How does one acquire money, anyway?" the Chaos Lord complained.
"Most of us get a job," Rainbow answered, "like fighting for the Company. You know, like what you've done for centuries? I get paid for that."

[SFaccountant]

11815294
Welp, into the Warp portal you go

But seriously thank you that's quite a casual oversight there

[SFaccountant]

11733523
Oblong spheroid, probably... let's say 40 kilometers across its longest axis.
Enough to dwarf the vast majority of void ships but nothing amazing. And much of the mass they don't bother carving out.