Black Horizons

by SFaccountant

Outbreak

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 8
Outbreak

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Harvest of Steel
Landing bay 17

+Shipment 1.8003.61 has been loaded and is ready for processing. Scavurel teams are returning to the planet surface for redeployment. This hold is nearing optimal capacity.+

Glittering green optics flickered beneath charcoal black hoods. A veritable ocean of containers, barrels, cases, and bundled materials stretched out before them, stacked five times as high as a man in some spots.

+Excellent. We are ahead of schedule. Have the scavenger crews faced resistance on the surface?+

+Negligible. The populace is completely broken and seem to have realized they can flee without pursuit. Scavurel report several incidences of encountering civilians in hiding during operations. Very few have engaged and no traps or sabotage were found after they fled the operational zones. Some surrendered immediately, and were then used to assist cargo capture.+

+Optimal. Aside from the initial difficulty with the Station Eschel, this mission should exceed expected returns. Begin processing immediately.+

The Dark Techpriests chittered to each other in Binaric Cant while a long train of men and women were led into the hangar. Two Iron Warriors stood guard while they nervously filed past, and two pony mares – one earth pony and one pegasus – emerged from a different entrance.

One of the Dark Techpriests whirled on the equines immediately. “This area is restricted. Evacuate.”

The ponies stopped, but they did not turn around as expected. One of them saluted sharply, a broad and bright smile on her face.

“Hi! I’m Wind Chime! I’m reporting for duty in this hangar!” she chirped.

“Jewel Bracer,” the other one said much less enthusiastically. “We’re supposed to be the overseers for this section.”

The Dark Techpriests quickly spat something to each other in Binaric. Then they returned their attention to the mares.

“These serviles are newly contracted menials, taken from the orbital refinery. Why does the Trademaster no longer use proper overseers?”

“We can be proper overseers!” Wind Chime said brightly. “In fact, Trademaster Delgan now uses us exclusively for managing large-scale work flow! He says we’re good for morale!” She giggled into a hoof.

“Line up and prepare for assignment!” Jewel shouted, walking toward the menials without waiting for permission from the Techpriests.

“Just leave the rest to us, ‘kay?” Wind Chime winked at the tech-cultists and then jumped into the air, flying off the observation platform and over the crowd of workers.

Wind Chime took a small metal box from her leg pouch and then held it up in front of her mouth. “Hello everyone, and good morning! Relatively speaking, of course! Those of you on the lambda sleep rotation are probably up a little later than you’d like, but it’s time to get the lead out!” The micro caster amplified her bell-like voice considerably, and it boomed across the hangar while she hovered overhead. “Today we’ll be sorting and moving cargo from the hangar and moving it to the interior holds! Make sure you’ve all stretched and loaded up on carbs, because the next ten hours are going to be a real workout!” She thrust a hoof into the air and grinned.

The menials stared at the ponies, their expressions ranging from awkwardly pleased to absolutely incredulous.

“I’m sorry, are we expected to obey the orders of pastel-colored horse mutants while we’re on assignment here?” asked one gruff man near the front.

“Yeah,” Jewel Bracer replied bluntly. “Ultimately you’ll be obeying the orders of pretty much everyone else in the fleet, but for right now we’re the boss, yes.”

“Don’t worry!” Wind Chime interjected loudly. “We’re trained in logistics management and have a detailed work plan! Jewel, divide them into four groups, please!”

“I don’t… that isn’t…” the man stumbled over his words trying to come up with an objection that didn’t sound obviously ridiculous after agreeing to work for the Chaos raiders that had assaulted his home, but before he could articulate one Jewel Bracer interrupted him.

“Look, I get that some of you guys aren’t happy with being ordered around by little ponies. I understand. Really. You’re used to big brutes with whips and robot claws muscling you about, and we’re small and cute and don’t have opposable thumbs. Makes sense!” she explained before pointing at the Chaos Space Marines guarding the menial entrance. “But if you won’t take orders from us, then you’re going to have to take the exact same orders from an Iron Warrior, and I think ALL of us will be a lot less happy that way. Especially the Iron Warrior. You follow?”

The menial frowned at Jewel. Then he looked over to the Iron Warriors standing guard. One of the Astartes stared back, directly at him, and lifted his boltgun higher.

“Wh-What group am I in, Overseer?”

“You and everyone to your left are group 1. Go over there, next to the red block containers,” Jewel ordered before moving to the next section.

“All works groups will find auto-brands at their station to tag the contents of each cargo unit before it’s moved to the appropriate loading bay!” Wind Chime said, landing on one of the taller shipping blocks so she could free up her wings. “And remember everybody: If we beat our productivity quota, everyone gets COOKIES!”

The workers started moving as the relentlessly cheerful pegasus shouted at them from atop the cargo stacks, and there was a noticeable acceleration from several of the menials at the mention of baked goods. The Dark Techpriests watched without interference, occasionally spitting pithy comments to each other in Binaric. Wind Chime used her wings to withdraw and unfurl a parchment scroll, and then held it up in front of her before she continued.

“Remember to classify cargo by broad category as well as specifying exactly what it is after your inspection! The categories are: Raw materials, organic materials, refined materials, ordnance, fuel materials, finished goods, small arms…”

While Wind Chime rattled off more items from her list the workers began untangling the massive pile of stolen goods. The smallest and closest crates were moved first, clearing the way for the larger ones to be lifted out.

One of the menials took up an auto-brand and then immediately walked toward the back of the bay, climbing over many unidentified crates and cases along the way. He reached a large cargo container, and then lifted the auto-brand toward the container door. He used the screen to tag the container, entering its category as “refined goods” and its label as “plasteel ingots” and then nodded to himself, looking satisfied.

“Excuse me, Sir. Please stick with the rest of your work team. The unidentified cargo may be hazardous, and with it stacked so high back here there could be an accident if you’re by yourself.”

The menial froze, and then turned his head to look over his shoulder. Jewel Bracer was standing atop a crate behind him, her expression inscrutable behind her respirator mask.

“Sorry Miss… getting ahead of myself.” He turned around and walked back toward her.

“Why did you tag that crate? You didn’t open it to check the contents,” Jewel noted.

“No need for that. It’s from a plasteel manufactory. I used to work there and I’d recognize that shipping label anywhere,” he assured her as he walked back. “Still, point taken about the other cargo, overseer.”

Jewel silently watched him go, one eyebrow arched. Then she shrugged and followed him back to the work team.

---

Ulaisse capital moon
Underhive complex sigma (abandoned)
precise geo-coordinates unknown

“Okay. Everyone please, just… calm down. Let’s dial this back a little bit.” Erin Whyd took her hand off her sidearm and held up her hands. “What exactly is a ‘Genestealer Cult?’ We’re no cult.”

“Not as you understand cults, perhaps,” Serith drawled. His index finger lazily drew a circle in the air, and the bizarre three-armed baby slowly spun in tandem while it floated and cried overhead. “Let me put it in more mundane terms: This place is infested. The corruption is deep. What we mistook for the noble resistance of an oppressed people against heartless tyrants is a nest of alien monstrosities and their hapless servants.”

“Whyd. Hess. Move away from Sparkle,” Dest growled, his boltgun trained on Byron. “This mission is aborted. We will not be taking xeno-infected saboteurs back to the fleet.”

“No… please… I don’t… I don’t understand… we’re not infected by anything!” Byron shrank back away from the gun, his arms up in the air. Erin likewise backed away, but they didn’t move toward the stony-faced guards or Lady Nacellus.

The ponies were shocked still, either confused, horrified, or both that the encounter had so suddenly turned hostile.

Except Trixie, of course. “Oh, great, so the mission failed and we get nothing except more injuries and a wrecked gunship. Wonderful. What a complete waste of time!” she complained.

“Nobody asked you to come along,” Rainbow mumbled.

“Trixie came along to see an alien world!” the magician retorted. “And now Trixie has amnesia somehow, so even THAT’S been spoiled! Trixie doesn’t remember us landing! Is Ulaisse’s surface nice? Hopefully Trixie took a few pic-captures! OH RIGHT THE HELMET’S BROKEN TOO! THIS SUCKS!”

“Lady Trixie, I must apologize for this unseemly encounter,“ Serith said, turning away from Lady Nacellus with one hand still in the air and levitating the wailing child. “I advised against this mission, of course, but even I had no idea what miserable wretches populated this pit. We shall make haste to-“

“Lady Nacellus! NO!!” Byron screamed, recoiling with his eyes wide.

Serith halted, and then turned back to look. He happened to be standing between the bulk of the pirates and the elder, so Dest shifted to the side in order to get a clear view (and potentially a clear shot) at her.

Nacellus bore a grim, stony expression while she held in her hand a small device with several dials, an antenna, and a big red button that her thumb was already touching, but was not yet depressed.

“That’s a signum detonator,” Erin said, sweat starting to crawl down her brow.

“What is there here to detonate?” Dest demanded.

“In the c-ceiling! M-Mining charges! I p-placed them so that this r-room could be destroyed and buried if necessary!” Byron said, visibly trembling. “Please, Lady Nacellus! Don’t do this!”

“If you don’t want me to do this, our guests are going to have to put down their weapons,” she replied, her voice calm and cold.

“And if we do, you’ll do what?” Dest demanded, his boltgun aimed squarely at her head. “Back out of the artifact room and then bury us once you’re safe?”

“That would be a poor bargain, wouldn’t it?” Nacellus mused. “I don’t think I’ll do that, no. Instead-“

The baby suddenly dropped from the air as Serith stopped levitating it. Lady Nacellus stopped speaking, but she otherwise didn’t react as one of her guards leapt forward and caught the newborn hybrid. A disappointed sound came from Serith’s helmet.

“Hold on. Everyone, just… calm down, please,” Twilight begged, her remaining eye wide and trembling.

“Guards. Leave us,” Lady Nacellus commanded, her eyes fixed on the rescue party and Dest in particular. “If it does come down to the bombs, there’s no reason you have to die too. Oh, and… let the others know.”

“Yes, mi’lady!” barked the man carrying her child. Another soldier backed up to the exit and waved the others through while keeping his aim in the center of the artifact hold.

“Others? Who’s the others?” Erin asked, her voice tight.

“Erin, Byron… I’m so sorry things turned out like this,” Nacellus sighed, still holding the detonator up in front of her. “There just wasn’t enough time. Things fell apart so quickly once the cruel masters of the Adrast spire found out… much as they did here.” Then she cocked her head to the side. “Lord Astartes, I’m going to have to ask you to put down your weapon. If you don’t, I will terminate this negotiation prematurely. The same with the rest of you. Those… horns of yours glow when you use your witchcraft, yes? You’ll want to avoid doing that.”

Dest’s claws twitched. He ached to pull the trigger, but doubted that he could kill the woman before she could set the bombs off.

“She is not bluffing,” Serith said coldly. “Her mind is taken by the cult’s master, and it steels her against my will. She is little more than a puppet now.”

“Lady Nacellus… no…” Byron whispered.

Dest slowly lowered his bolter, placing it on the ground next to Rarity’s hoof. “Take one step toward the exit with the detonator still in your hand and you won’t make it out alive. I do not need a gun to slay you, pawn.” Pinkie Pie whimpered, hugging the back of Dest’s helmet tighter.

“Of course,” Nacellus drawled. “I am hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned. It’s incredibly fortunate that we happened to meet somewhere where I could eliminate you all in an instant. But… I’d rather not have to do that.”

“You said… negotiation?” Twilight asked, her voice cracking. Her thoughts were racing, and her heart was thundering in her chest. “Wh-What do you want?”

“What I want is precisely what you came here to offer me,” Nacellus replied. “Passage off this world and out of the reach of the Imperium. But I’m guessing that’s off the table now.” She sighed. “Aside from whether your generosity extends to those of us who have been enlightened, we cannot ensure you’ll be a button press away from death the entire time. So I propose something else.”

“Spit it out, ya backstabbin’ freak,” Applejack growled.

“Put down your weapons and wargear. Guns, blades, armor, equipment. Byron, Erin, you too,” Nacellus commanded. “I will have my men collect it, and when that is done I will put the signum detonator on the ground. Then you will be free to go.”

“What? You want our power armor?” Rarity asked, surprised.

“Why? You know you guys can’t wear pony armor, right?” Rainbow asked.

“Your concern is noted, but I assure you we’ll find something to do with it,” Lady Nacellus said. “Well?”

Dest and Serith shared a glance.

“Her words are sincere, but she speaks on behalf of an alien that knows only treachery and what moves are to its advantage. Besides… we cannot comply with this compromise,” Serith explained.

“Your war plate is worth more than your life?” Nacellus asked.

“For some of us they are one and the same,” Dest growled. “You ask the impossible.”

“Well, that IS a shame, isn’t it?” Nacellus drawled, right before her upraised arm vanished within a cloud of plasma.

The discharge instantly vaporized the detonator and flesh alike, and Nacellus staggered forward in shock. Then a power sword plunged into her back, piercing her heart and ramming through to emerge from her chest with a burst of hot blood.

The elder slowly turned her head around, trembling, and she stared into the masked face of one of her guards. His eyes were glowing green. She tried to murmur his name, but the words didn’t emerge before consciousness left her.

“I LOVE that expression they make right at the end,” Chrysalis sighed happily, bracing a foot against her victim’s back and pulling her sword free.

Byron slumped to his knees, his eyes wide and his face slick with sweat. Erin wasn’t much better, and she pointed numbly to the man she would have identified as Aarion.

“Excellent work.” Dest snapped up his boltgun again. “Let’s leave this chamber at once. We have no guarantee there is only one detonator keyed to the mining charges.”

“Of course, Lord.” Chrysalis pointed toward Erin and Byron. “What about them?”

“The elder did not permit them to leave with the others. They are likely not infected. Leave them,” Dest replied while he took cover next to the exit and aimed his bolter down the corridor. Pinkie leaned out over his shoulder pad and placed a hoof against her forehead, squinting into the darkness.

“Infected… Infected by WHAT?” Erin asked. “What’s going on? Why-“ she was suddenly struck by a wave of nausea as Serith pointed at her.

“Cease your prattling. You will remain here as we evacuate. If you are not promptly purged or inducted by your former comrades, perhaps you may even live long enough for the Imperium to execute you properly.” Serith turned to follow Dest. “Now then-“

“No,” Twilight interrupted.

Serith stopped, and Dest glanced back at her.

The alicorn took a deep, unsteady breath, and then looked around at everyone else. “If Byron and Erin aren’t infected, then they’re coming with us. Let’s get the artifact and get out of here.”

“We cannot be sure they aren’t,” Dest pointed out, “only that their behavior makes it plausible.”

“Serith can tell, can’t he?” Rarity asked.

“I cannot, for the most part,” the Sorcerer replied. “It was only due to the direct intervention of the hive mind that I could tell something was amiss before and unraveled their deception. It is not so easy with random specimens whose thoughts do not betray the xeno taint.”

“Then we’ll check them later. The Mechanicus knows how,” Twilight said firmly, her augmetic eye gleaming. “They just found out that their friends and neighbors are brainwashed monsters. I’m not leaving them here to be punished because we stepped in and exposed them. Do you object?”

The Iron Warriors didn’t respond right away, staring at Erin and Byron. The refugees could only watch dumbly, unable to think of anything to say in their defense that Twilight hadn’t already said. They were too far out of their depth – too overwhelmed by what they had seen – to speak up now.

“I suppose they don’t pose too great a threat either way,” Dest grumbled, “and having only two more passengers won’t complicate exfiltration.”

“I am, as ever, at your service, Lady Sparkle,” Serith said, his voice dripping with smarmy contempt. “If you desire these hive rats join us, then it shall be so.” He bowed deeply to the alicorn, who offered him only an exasperated sigh in response. Then he pointed to Suuna across the room. “Slave, you will carry the artifact.”

“Serith, Trixie told you not to boss Suuna around like that!” the magician snapped. Then she cleared her throat gently. “Suuna, PLEASE pick up the artifact and follow closely, okay?”

“Of course, Mistress Trixie,” Suuna replied with a slightly resigned expression, stepping up to the octahedron.

More than one pony closed their eyes and cringed away when she touched the artifact, but there was no particular reaction at all when Suuna lifted it from the pedestal.

“It’s lighter than it looks,” she informed the others, hugging the ivory object to her chest. “I’ve got it. We can go.”

Dest nodded. “Very well. I have point until we reach the Dreadnought. Apple! Take the rearguard! Move out!”

The party advanced into the tunnel in a line, with horns and personal lumens splashing beams of light across the walls and floor. Byron and Erin were near the center of the group, stiffly following Twilight Sparkle. Behind them walked Chrysalis, still in the form of a refugee guard, and clearly unnerving the two even further for it. Applejack moved backward from the rear to watch for ambush, just behind Trixie and Suuna.

“So I dunno if you guys were planning on saving this for later or if we were supposed to figure it out on our own, but since it’s kind of a hike back does anyone wanna explain what the hay a ‘Genestealer Cult’ is?” Rainbow asked.

“A Genestealer Cult is a cell of subversives who have been infected and brainwashed by a Tyranid infiltrator known as a Genestealer,” Dest began, “as well as the descendants of those victims.”

“I remember the Genestealers,” Rarity interjected. “We fought them in that ship docked with the Eschel. Gaela told us the name, but didn’t really explain it…”

“Genestealers are ferocious shock troops on the battlefield,” Serith remarked, “but they are far more dangerous skulking in the shadows of civilian populations, like this one. They ambush helpless citizens, but rather than simply killing them, they corrupt their flesh and blood.”

“The Genestealer Curse,” Twilight said with a shudder. “I read about it in the Tyranid combat primers after we took out the grand cruiser.”

“I have seen the process personally,” Serith continued. “I won’t sully your imaginations with the details, but once the process is complete the victim’s mind and body are twisted genetically to serve the Tyranids. The victim is most often rendered unaware of what has occurred, but they then take their poisoned genetics back to their homes, and…”

“And that’s why there were so many pregnant refugees,” Rarity finished, feeling her stomach churn.

“Affirmative. Breeding spreads the infection to their partners and creates hybrids, like that child. Eventually enough individuals are infected and enough soldiers are born that the cult can trigger an uprising and cripple or overthrow their governor. All for the ultimate purpose of drawing ravenous Tyranid fleets to the world so that it can be devoured without difficulty,” Dest said while he emerged from the tunnel, scanning the trash pit for targets. “This is what the Imperium found in its barracks that day. This is what they’re trying to stamp out. And they’re right to do so. There is no cure, no salvation for those taken by the alien’s treacherous venom. They can only be purged.”

Pinkie Pie hopped off of his shoulder an onto the arm of the Dreadnought, and then started to climb back inside. The others emerged into the room behind Dest, illuminating the ramp heading back up.

“So, then… all those people who were… were taken during the Imperium’s raids,” Byron said haltingly, “they were all…?”

“Maybe. Perhaps they were merely suspect and purged out of caution or paranoia,” the pilot started trudging up the incline. “There are gene-craft technologies that can detect the infection, but not every colony possesses them. Since the purges began, however, it is likely that the bulk of the cults have been forced out of Adrast and are trying to hide outside of the capital hive. Like in your refuge.”

Erin took a deep breath before she asked her next question. “So Lady Nacellus was infected, then. She had been ambushed by aliens and made to serve them?”

“Probably,” Serith replied. “Or perhaps this infestation has been festering for long enough that she was born as she was, to infected parents. It matters little to us, but we cannot be sure how long your little hole has sheltered alien pawns, or if it started out that way.”

“And you’re sure Aarion isn’t infected? Why? Is it because he helped us? How long has he been serving you, anyway?” Erin asked.

Before anyone could ask who that was, Chrysalis chuckled and spoke up. “Calm down, little girl. We can’t reveal all our secrets.”

“That’s just Chrysalis,” Rainbow Dash said. “She’s a weird shape-shifting bug monster.”

“HEY!” The changeling whirled about and shouted at her. “What did I just say about revealing all our secrets?!”

“Calm down,” Rarity chided. “If we want these folks to trust us then we should at least tell them why we appear to have one of their guards working for us.”

“TRUST! Oh, spare me!” Chrysalis hissed, turning back to her real body while her weapons disintegrated into green mist. Erin and Byron recoiled at the sight, their eyes wide. “Your TRUST nearly got you buried under a thousand tons of rock!”

“Yes, and then you saved us from that. Thank you, Chrysalis,” Twilight interjected. “Now stop arguing. We have to decide on a course to escape.”

Pinkie’s Dreadnought finished starting up, and the massive pink walker swiveled around and followed Dest.

“What will the others do now that you’ve uncovered this… cult?” Erin asked.

“We’re about to find out,” Serith replied. “There are more hive rats gathering in the tunnels beyond this trash pit. They are preparing to engage.”

“Let me talk to them,” Erin volunteered, stepping in front of Twilight.

“They will either slay you on sight or try to talk you into killing us first,” Serith said. “Not that I’m objecting. Lady Sparkle?”

“Miss Erin, do you really think you can talk them down?” Twilight asked. “We can’t risk taking them with us unless you can somehow prove they’re not infected.”

“I know. We just need to get past them, right? The intersection at the top of the incline can lead us out of the sanctuary’s territory,” she explained. “I can get them to stand down! The guards trust me!”

“But do you trust them?” Twilight asked, stressing the word. “Specifically, do you trust them more than you trusted Lady Nacellus?”

Erin started to reply, but she stopped herself. Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes avoided meeting Twilight’s. “… Please… just… don’t kill them if you don’t have to.” Byron gently placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Dest. Pinkie Pie. Take the front and try to shock them into a retreat right away.” Twilight levitated her helmet over her head, and the seals snapped into place with a hiss of pressurized air. “Everyone else, get ready to sprint into the hall, but stay together and watch the rear! Erin, we need you to guide us out when we clear the intersection! Serith, protect Suuna!”

“I refuse,” the Sorcerer said immediately.

“GAH! FINE! Protect Trixie then! Trixie, YOU protect Suuna!”

“Your wish is my command, Lady Sparkle,” Serith replied, earning him angry glares from several of the mares. Trixie wordlessly saluted, while Suuna silently wondered how well the artifact would fare if used as a shield from incoming fire.

“Let’s get out of here! MOVE!”

---

The pounding of ceramite greaves announced the approach of the enemy. A bestial snarl came from the darkness, sending chills through the men who sought to neutralize the intruders.

Four stood behind makeshift barricades, split into two groups blocking both paths down the hall from the trash pit entrance. A fifth was trying to secure a bomb to the side of the door, cursing under his breath when it failed to adhere properly.

A great silver claw, like that of an enormous crab, reached from the darkness and plucked the guard off the ground with a startled yelp. His explosive mine dropped to the floor, thankfully not yet armed.

Dest held the guard aloft while he strode into the hall, his image the very picture of a Chaos daemon. Curved thorns decorated his arms, legs, and shoulder pads, and his breast plate had formed a gaping maw that leaked crimson embers. Blazing eyes gazed upon the cultists, seething with rage yet to be released. One arm had morphed into a giant silvery pincer, while the other arm boasted claws that were almost too large to fire a boltgun.

The men guarding the intersection were completely outmatched by this single, monstrous Astartes. They knew at a glance, in dry tactical calculation, even before accounting for the otherworldly terror of his appearance. Yet an alien influence twisted their subconscious, setting a new imperative over their very survival.

Protect the hive. Slay the intruders. Nothing else matters.

Shotgun fire and autogun slugs hammered Dest from both sides, cracking against Warp-fueled ceramite.

With their intent to hold their position established, Dest snipped the guard he was holding aloft in two. His pincer claw turned into a gory streak in the air, and he bolted toward one of the barricades. A boot crushed the flimsy shield of rusted scrap and other garbage, and his claws descended on the men behind it before they could back out of range.

A Contemptor Dreadnought emerged behind Dest, stepping into the burst fire aimed at the driver’s back. As opponents went the Dreadnought was far less intimidating than the Iron Warrior, colored in bright pink with balloons decorating its armor panels and glittering charms hanging from its ammo feeds. It was, though, even more obviously impervious to the feeble guns of the cultists.

“Hello! We’re gonna need you to pack it up here, guys! Reservations for the last ship off-world have officially closed!” the Dreadnought helpfully informed them.

One of them dropped his shotgun, and then jumped over the barricade. He sprinted toward the siege walker, and then dove for the bomb sitting on the floor next to it.

Pinkie grabbed the man in her power fist, holding him just inches away from the dropped explosive charge. “Sorry guys! Better luck tricking the next band of naïve, good-natured space pirates that show up to help!” Then she hurled him into his partner, sending them both tumbling across the rockcrete.

“We’re clear! Advance!” Dest shouted, his voice possessing a bizarre echo that had nothing to do with the tunnel’s acoustics.

“Erin, where are we headed?” Twilight asked as she and Rainbow Dash swept into the halls.

“Take a right! We’re going down the main hall! There’s a pair of blast doors we usually keep locked down!” Erin dashed into the hallway herself, and then stopped short when she saw the gory remains of several men she would have called friends just an hour ago. Her apprehension wasn’t helped when Dest turned sharply to face her, his body still transformed to be as terrifying as possible.

“I’ll lead the way,” Dest snarled, scooping up one of the shotguns and tossing it to Erin Whyd. She barely caught it between her shock and the blood splashed over the weapon.

“Pinkie, cover the rear! Let’s keep Suuna and Byron in the middle!” Twilight continued shouting orders as more of the group rushed into the hallway.

“Be mindful of the ventilation shafts,” Serith remarked while he led Trixie and Suuna at a distinctly unhurried pace. “The presence of a Genestealer Cult suggests, necessarily, the presence of Genestealers. They’d surely prefer to infect us and add our power to their own, but if they are unable they will settle for rending us each limb from limb.”

A few autogun slugs plinked off of Pinkie’s Dreadnought, and she levered her butcher cannon down into firing position. “It looks like they’re not retreating, you guys! Kinda the opposite!”

Rarity winced as the butcher cannon opened up. “Why are they bothering? Unless they’re hiding something much more dangerous than the missile launcher they can’t stop us, can they? Even Orks wouldn’t walk into a battle this one-sided!”

“They’re nothing more than pawns in a greater strategy. They mean to stall us,” Serith said. “For what, I cannot precisely say. We’d best spoil their efforts, regardless.”

Dest ran ahead of the others, seeing another intersection up ahead.

The daemon in his head was gibbering nonsense as he ran, bombarding his mind with flickers of carnage and imagery that defied comprehension. Before being possessed, Dest wouldn’t have thought it was possible to speak telepathically to someone and not be understood, as if it were a foreign language. But he had learned that it was definitely possible, and worse, it was quite common.

Dest’s finger was closing around the trigger of his boltgun before he had even rounded the corner. The first shot drilled into a target’s chest and detonated, and a woman following that unfortunate victim flinched back in shock. She didn’t have a chance to recover from her surprise before the second shot found her and she joined her companion on the ground. Their shotguns clattered to the floor, unused and forgotten.

“Clear!” Dest barked. “Whyd, where is the exit?!”

“It’s… It’s down and then to the right! N-Next intersection!” she shouted.

“Dest, don’t get too far ahead!” Twilight warned before the Iron Warrior bolted ahead again.

Suddenly Vel broke from his strange litany. Hey, uh… not that it makes much of a difference to me, but are we SURE those last two kills were hostiles, bro? They were armed, but… we don’t think everyone here is infected, right?

“All who stand before us shall be as dust and ash!” Dest roared, his enraged shout serving both as a warning to any more refugees and an answer to Vel. “The masters of Chaos will not bow before this swine!”

HARDCORE. I’m feeling that boss energy, dude! Ignit! Daiemo! Irakea! ANGRY FAKE LATIN CHANTING!!

Two more guards rounded the corner, pistols in one hand and shields of salvaged plasteel in the other. Dest crossed the distance between them in an instant, and his pincer punched through one of the shields and the man behind them with a single thrust.

The other guard managed to fire off a single bullet that smacked against Dest’s shoulder pad. Dest kicked the man in response, slamming his boot into the shield and sending the cultist hurtling down the hall. A single bolt round finished him off, and then Dest swung his pincer to the side to fling away the corpse stuck on it.

“I see the blast doors!” he shouted, running ahead again.

The doors made of up one side of a four-way intersection, and Dest slid to a stop in the middle, aiming his boltgun down each hall. The room at the center of the intersection was small, with several makeshift barricades that suggested it was meant to serve as another improvised strongpoint in case of attack. The state of the cover and the poor attention given to the firing angles suggested that it was made to be easy to abandon rather than hard to break.

Twilight and Rainbow flew into the room, followed by Erin and Byron. Erin immediately rushed to a switch panel on the side of the blast doors, but Byron stopped short and stared at one of the cultists smeared across the wall next to a broken shield and pistol.

“Tyban? You… You killed Tyban?” the man mumbled, stunned. “He’s not a guard, he’s an agri-worker. Why would he-“

“The cult cares not whether its pawns are trained for the task of killing intruders!” Dest barked, snapping him out of his surprise. “All its victims are slaves to its prerogatives! Currently that means eliminating us!”

Erin drew a power pack from her belt while she worked at the access panel. “We keep the door unpowered. I just need to connect an energy source and then we can open it. We will not, unfortunately, be able to close it from the other side.”

“It’s fine! I’ll close it and then teleport through!” Twilight announced. “Rarity, Rainbow, cover the side routes until the door is open wide enough for Pinkie!”

“I should probably warn you that the tunnel beyond the blast doors is rigged with more mining charges in the ceiling to cave it in!” Byron announced while he pressed his back up against a wall.

“No wonder this route is so poorly reinforced. You intended to collapse the approach if an enemy found this route, not fight off an invasion,” Dest grunted. “What is the detonator?”

“It’s a wired mechanical key on the underside of the console! I know the combination!”

“Don’t worry, I can do that too! I’ll close the door, then detonate the charges after you escape, and then teleport out to join you!” Twilight announced.

The engine that opened the blast doors finally stirred, and the huge sheets of armored plating started to part. Erin took a breath to gather herself, then glanced back at the ponies spread out through the room.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay by yourself? How reliable is this teleport?” she asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

“You needn’t worry about Sparkle,” Dest snorted, turning around to face the widening gap in the doors. “She’s quite capable, and the resistance your slum poses is minimal. Concentrate on-“

Dest was suddenly blown off his feet when a light cannon shell flew in through the opening between the blast doors, striking him square in the chest. He landed on his side, his breast plate cratered, and then quickly rolled out of the line of fire before several more shells stitched across the ground.

“YEEK! What was that?!” shouted Fluttershy.

Erin flipped a switch, and the doors ground to a halt. “Was that an autocannon?! When did we get an autocannon?!”

“That was an autocannon, yes!” Dest grunted, pushing himself upright again. “But it is not your people beyond the door! We have hybrids!”

The heavy weapons fire stopped, and a moment later the enemy bolted through the opening to meet the intruders. It was a three-armed creature, with one of its hands clutching a pistol and another a short sword. The third arm bore a scything talon at the end, instantly laying bare its Tyranid heritage to those who had seen the vile aliens before. The hybrid wore scavenged torso armor and a long robe rather than pants, tattered and dirty from lack of care. Its facial features were a twisted combination of alien and human, and it wore a pair of welding goggles over its face.

The hybrid turned on Dest immediately, and managed to loose a single shot before the Possessed Marine swung his pincer claw around. The alien spawn was nearly ripped in half as the bladed edge struck, and a fan of blood splashed over the blast doors.

“It’s a Deep Pit Skulker! What are they doing here?” Erin shouted.

“Is that what you call them? Those are Genestealer hybrids, the spawn of infected cultists,” Serith explained. “Although you may have thought of them as a separate faction of underhive dweller, they are creatures born of the same cult that dominates your little slum.”

Another two emerged through the door while Serith was talking, only to get immediately cut down by gunfire. Dest felled one with his bolter, while Erin shot the other in the side. The latter target staggered, wounded, and then a pulse of violet energy pierced it through the chest, finishing it off.

“Dest, did you get a look at the escape tunnel? What do they have out there?” Twilight asked.

“There’s an entire platoon of the wretches!” Dest snarled. “They have an autocannon set up on a barricade with a firing line!” Another hybrid dashed through, and he speared the soldier on his claw.

“Can’t we push through? Pinkie Pie will squash ‘em!” Rainbow Dash said.

“No need. We’ll collapse the tunnel and head down a different route,” Erin retorted, reaching under the console. “Byron, you said you had the combination? I’m setting the det-key.”

Twilight frowned. She looked around at the gloomy tunnels on either side, already bloodied by the cultists that had tried to stop them but now empty. Gunfire started pouring through the gap in the blast doors as the hybrids gave up on a close assault and opted for suppressive fire. Bullets stitched back and forth across the open space, cutting gouges into the flooring and ricocheting off to strike the walls further in.

“We’re sticking with the original plan,” the young Princess said suddenly, surprising the others. “I think we’re being herded away from this route. They’re trying to drive us to a different exit.”

“Okay, but what if there’s a good reason for that which doesn’t matter to us?” Rarity asked, flinching when a bullet was deflected off the floor and smacked against her boot plating. “We could be heading toward a hive of the monsters or a weapons cache.”

“That’s possible, sure. And maybe we’ll destroy those places along the way. You know, so long as we’re in the neighborhood,” Twilight suggested. She delicately cleared her throat after her friends turned to stare at her. “I may not show it very much but I’m actually VERY upset about my rescue mission being ruined like this.”

“Ha ha! Wonderful!” Chrysalis laughed. “Do you want the pink lunatic to go first, or should I?”

“Neither. The Dreadnought could easily weather a single autocannon, but there’s no need to risk a lucky shot or some kind of backup plan. Fluttershy?”

A squeak came from the corner. “Y-Yes?” came the response from what appeared to be thin air.

“You’re going first.”

---

“They’re not advancing. Reduce suppressive fire,” snarled one of the hybrid soldiers, waving a clawed hand in the air.

Several of the autoguns pouring bullets into the opening between the blast doors stopped firing, and their users took a moment to replenish their ammo. Two soldiers kept shooting over their cover, aiming high to force anyone trying to exit the room to duck under the stream of bullets. The autocannon gunner waited at his emplacement tripod, his nerves on a knife edge while his long, pointed tongue hung from the side of his mouth.

“They’re not retreating, either…” hissed a fellow cultist, squinting over the top of the sandbags. “It was impetuous to try to charge into the room, but we must force them back.”

His companion nodded firmly, his lip curling up over pointed, razor-edged teeth. Then he raised a fist and mimed throwing something. “Flush them out of there!”

To either side of the blast doors were more hybrids, each mob of more than a dozen alien-spawned thugs carrying numerous blades and short-range guns. The leaders – notable by their body structure being closer to a true four-armed Genestealer than their underlings – crept up to the breach, unhooking fragmentation grenades from their belts. With a silent nod, they quietly discarded the safety pins and released the handles, letting the fuses “cook” for a few crucial seconds. Then they tossed them into the doors’ gap from each side.

In an eye blink the grenades flew back where they came from, carried on shimmering arcs of blue and purple.

A surprised snarl was about all the cultists could muster before the explosives went off, blasting hot shrapnel into the waiting troops. A feral screech issued from several of them as they fell, and the soldiers keeping up the suppressive fire briefly halted from surprise, flinching away from the blast.

Within the control room, a pegasus in power armor suddenly appeared, shielding her visor with her legs while a grenade launcher on her back discharged a single shot.

“Sorry!” Fluttershy squeaked before the photon grenade burst.

Many hybrids had subdermal eyes or had tinted goggles to protect them from bright light because they were used to dim lighting conditions. Those soldiers so protected fared slightly better after the entire room went white, but the Tau stun grenades were designed to overwhelm such defenses. The hybrids lurched away and recoiled, clutching their faces or ducking their heads while their vision was consumed by a brilliant white smear. The autocannon gunner panicked and started firing again, blindly hammering one of the blast doors and accidentally wounding several more of the nearby soldiers with shrapnel.

“Outta the way, ugly!” Applejack and Rainbow Dash charged through the breach and turned right, unleashing their weapons into the stunned cultists.

“Chaos comes for you!” roared Dest, turning the other way and descending on the mob in a blazing frenzy.

The blast doors started to open again as Pinkie Pie’s Dreadnought stepped in front of the gap, but it was not nearly wide enough for the siege walker. Her butcher cannon fired through the opening instead, tearing into the barricade and reducing the autocannon gunner to a dark smudge.

“All right! Byron, get those charges ready!” Twilight shouted. “Erin, Rarity, follow Pinkie Pie once she can get through the doors! Trixie, when Byron is done, take him and Suuna and follow the others! When Byron says you’re clear of the collapse zone, let me know! I’ll activate the charges and then use Rarity’s signum to teleport over to you!”

“Are you really going to be okay on your own?” Erin asked, shouting over the rhythmic booming of the butcher cannon.

“I’ll be fine! Don’t take this the wrong way, but your guards aren’t a serious threat to me!” Twilight reassured her.

“What should I do?” Chrysalis asked, cocking her head to the side.

Twilight started, as if surprised that she’d asked. “Do what you want! Just make sure you don’t get stuck on your own or trapped by the cave-in!”

Chrysalis seemed unsatisfied by the response, but Twilight didn’t take the time to explain further. She ran over to Byron, who was already working on the detonator under the console.

The other side of the blast doors had become a massacre, with each of the hybrid combat teams being torn apart in short order. One was scoured with flames and shuriken, another pounded by heavy cannon fire, and another – probably the most unlucky of the bunch – had an enraged, daemon-possessed Iron Warrior plunge into its midst.

Dest killed the cultists with each sweep of his pincer arm, tearing huge gouges into torsos and scissoring off extremities. His other hand was a set of talons wreathed in flames, and each time the claws sliced into a hybrid’s flesh the Warpfire would follow, pouring over the victim and wrapping around it like serpent of raw energy. The servo blades performed the messiest work, stabbing like scorpion stingers at every cultist that didn’t move away fast enough.

“You think to oppose the scions of Chaos?! Alien detritus, poisoning the blood of the weak!” Dest roared, punching his pincer through the abdomen of another target. “We are the Iron Warriors! This bastion of desperation and lies is NOTHING to us!”

Vel made an excited, completely indescribable sound in his head as the Rhino pilot swung his pincer again, flinging the dead hybrid into one of its kin. Then Dest blasted another victim with a firebolt, hurling it back into the wall with bright crimson flames devouring its face and chest.

A pair of claws suddenly sliced across Dest’s shoulder pad, carving much deeper into the ceramite than should have been possible before a large dagger stabbed into his elbow joint. Pain bloomed briefly, but that sensation was quickly eclipsed by further rage. The Possessed Chaos Marine whirled on his assailant, nearly taking off the squad leader’s head by that movement alone. The hybrid leapt back for distance, and then immediately pounced again.

Dest charged at the same time, and his servo blades descended on the impudent monster. Scything talons struck back at the same time, and the blades clashed against each other while each combatants’ larger limbs reared back to deliver a heavier blow.

Dest’s servo limbs were but a mechanical mockery of the Genestealer’s scything talons, but they proved to be more than a match for the cultist. Razor-edged adamantium carved through chitin and the underlying muscle, and the hybrid flinched. Dest’s blazing claws struck like a hammer, hurling the enemy off its feet with a fiery impact.

The Rhino pilot leapt after his victim in an instant, intending to crush the hybrid to a paste beneath his greaves. The cultist rolled out of the impact zone with surprising agility, sliding away onto his belly and then bolting on all fours. Dest twisted on one foot, Warpflame surging through his veins and Vel’s idiot hymns ringing in his ears.

Injured, burnt, and bleeding, the hybrid could not scuttle away fast enough, and the beak-like tip of Dest’s pincer claw pierced its back. He lifted the alien spawn off the ground, and then pulled his arm free amidst a jet of hot blood.

A moment later a different hybrid flew past him, spinning end over end, and slammed into the wall.

“That everyone?!” Applejack shouted, pawing the ground with her massive boots. Her armor had several new nicks and scars from where the cultists had struggled to fight back, and blood dribbled down her helmet tusks and greaves.

“No! Watch the big gun!” Dash shouted, suddenly taking off through the air.

She kicked the barrel of the autocannon, throwing it off its barricade mounting. The hybrid trying to move it was lying prone behind the sandbags, staying out of sight of Pinkie’s cannon. It promptly drew an autopistol and fired at the pegasus, who jolted to the side to evade and then turned into a wild corkscrew and blasted down the tunnel.

The cultist kept firing after her, probably for want of any better option. It managed four more near-misses before the power fist of a Dreadnought came down on top of it, bringing the firefight to a decisive conclusion.

“Area secure. Pie, advance down the tunnel and mark paths of advance,” Dest ordered, pointing a pincer dripping with blood down the hall. “Hess! Get out here and tell us where the bombs are placed!”

“Y-Yes, Lord!” Byron stuttered as he scrambled out into the exit path. He cringed away from the sight of the slaughtered hybrids laying all about the exit, but then steeled himself and raced to catch up to Pinkie. “The charges are buried in a cluster above this area. If we get about sixty meters out, we should be clear of the cave-in.”

“We will clear one hundred meters,” Dest growled, “then we will notify Sparkle to detonate the charges. MOVE!”

“Okay, Trixie has to admit this was a bit more what Trixie had in mind when she decided to come along,” Trixie said cheerily while she led Suuna and Serith into the tunnel passage. “A dramatic betrayal by desperate refugees, a heroic double-betrayal by our changeling, and a hopelessly one-sided melee to clear the way for Trixie’s retinue! This is how intergalactic adventures should be!”

“I am likewise pleased by the sudden reversal in our fortunes,” Serith remarked while he strolled alongside the unicorn, using his halberd as a walking stick. “The wretches of the underhive are a far more manageable threat than the might of the Imperial patrols.”

“Stop chatting like this is a midnight stroll through your idyllic equine city!” Dest snarled as he ran by. “The longer you tarry, the longer Sparkle has to hold the exit on her own!”

“Do relax, driver,” Serith drawled, stepping over the barricade that the hybrids had been manning, “what do you imagine these dregs would be able to conjure from their sad, broken hovels to challenge our fair Princess?”

---

Twilight had just finished closing the blast doors when the shriek of tearing metal reached her ears. It came from multiple directions at once, and she quickly pulled her head out from under the gate console to check what was happening.

In each of the three hallways that intersected at the room – excluding the path protected by the blast doors – a Genestealer dropped from a ventilation shaft in the ceiling or clambered out of maintenance hatch.

One of the aliens was struck down immediately by a bright purple beam, unable to dodge before it had completely pulled itself free of its vent. When Twilight shifted her focus to the next hall, however, the Genestealer was already on its feet and charging toward her.

“Twilight, are you shooting at something?” Rarity asked, her voice crackling through the vox link. “Did the cultists try another push after all?”

“N-No! Genestealers!” Twilight yelped, activating the blade mode of her harmonizer and swinging it at the alien in a wide arc.

The Genestealer hopped out of the path of the blade easily, but it earned Twilight enough time to shoot a magic bolt from her horn. The spell bolt struck the alien, knocking it back, and then lashed tendrils of pure magical force around the Genestealer to bind it.

“What?! Do you need help?!” Rarity asked.

“If I suddenly scream and vox contact cuts off, then yes! Otherwise, keep moving!” Twilight shouted, stabbing the harmonizer’s energy blade into her target and carving it open from hip to shoulder. The Genestealer shrieked angrily, but its cry rapidly weakened into a pitiful gurgling noise.

A loud, crackling discharge came from behind Twilight before she could turn to the last enemy, and she whirled around just in time for the smoldering corpse of the third Genestealer to slide to a stop at her hooves. She recoiled, and then bumped into something behind her.

She looked back, and then up. The face of Gaela’s hooded helmet stared back, servo arms curled over her shoulders and her ion blaster leaking smoke.

The shocked recognition only lasted for a second before realization dawned. “Chrysalis?! Why are you still here?!”

“Because you said I could do what I wanted,” she replied in a perfect imitation of the Techpriest’s voice.

“And you chose to stay here?! Why? What if I didn’t notice and left without you?” the young Princess admonished.

“That didn’t happen, so who cares?” the changeling retorted blandly.

Rarity’s voice interrupted again. “Twilight, darling, it sound like you need help. Hold on, I’ll-“

“No, keep going! We need to cut off this path of pursuit! Move to a safe distance as fast as possible!” Twilight ordered. “Also, the more people I have to teleport, the harder it is! That’s why I intended to stay behind on my own!”

A snarl came from down the left hall, and two more Genestealers dropped down from the ceiling vent.

“Please HURRY!” Twilight shouted before closing the vox link.

“You know, this would be much easier if you unlocked my warforms,” Chrysalis noted while her ion blaster started charging again. “The forms with terminator armor are really tricky to manage without the extra power.”

Twilight fired her harmonizer, blasting one of the aliens off of its feet. “I’m not unlocking your seals when I’m the only one here with you!”

“What are you afraid of? Can’t you kill me instantly?” Chrysalis fired both her ion blaster and the streaming laser, but the Genestealer hopped aside, dodging both. It kicked off the wall and flipped over the laser beam, and then started speeding toward the intruders once its feet touched the ground again.

“I can kill you quickly,” Twilight explained, her horn swirling with a purple glow. “That’s a meaningful difference if you also have plasma cannons at the time!”

A volley of sparkling magic bolts launched from her horn casing, each one shooting in a different direction before curving sharply toward the Genestealer. It tried to twist and evade, but the multiple angles made the attempt futile. The spell projectiles slammed home one after another, hammering the alien before the last one pitched it forward onto the ground.

Chrysalis swung her power axe down, carving deep into the Genestealer’s skull. “Look, if we’re going to work together, you can’t keep handicapping me when we’re surrounded by enemies or being chased down by enemy aircraft. I’m here to help you, aren’t I?”

“As far as I know, you’re here for your own entertainment!” Twilight retorted, grimacing when she spotted three more Genestealers squirming free of the vents. “You can still fight as you are, so stop complaining!”

“The big smelly freak gave you the key to these seals for a reason,” Chrysalis insisted before her ion blaster fired again. This time her target didn’t dodge in time, and the Genestealer released an agonized howl as it cooked in its own carapace shell.

“Yes, he did! And he specifically entrusted MY JUDGMENT when to use it, too!” The force harmonizer reverted to a blade again, and then spun through the air down one of the tunnels. The Genestealer bounded over the weapon, but the harmonizer suddenly reversed course to return to its user, slicing through the alien’s back.

“You’re only making this harder on both of us! You think I’m so eager to die?” The third Genestealer slid under a heavy laser blast and then kicked off the side of a rusted, empty container, vaulting through the air toward the changeling.

“Twilight, we’re at the rendezvous point! Byron says it’s clear!” Rarity shouted through the vox.

The Genestealer landed a mid-air swing against Chrysalis, punching a talon through her weaponized arm and knocking her to the ground. The Changeling Queen grunted in annoyance as she was pinned, with the Genestealer holding down both her arms and her servo-mounted laser. The fourth arm clamped over her face mask and tore it away, the claws slicing through the plating hinges – and a fair bit of the face beneath it – with ease.

“Detonate the charges!” Chrysalis shouted as the Genestealer’s jaws yawned open. Its tongue slithered out from behind needle-like teeth, bearing what appeared to be some kind of stinger.

Twilight saw further movement from the halls, but she turned back to the console and the control box wired under it. “Detonating!” she shouted into her vox as her magic depressed the button.

The sound of explosions immediately roared through the tunnels, and the ground trembled as the path beyond the doors was covered in rubble. Some of the stone that made up the walls and ceiling of the gate room was unsettled as well, and dozens of rocks broke loose to tumble onto the ill-kept flooring.

The Genestealer seemed unbothered by the detonation, intently focused on its next victim. It DID seem somewhat bothered when its victim’s single organic eye flashed a brilliant green and her face started swelling and warping horrifically. The ovipositor that was positioned to insert its terrible payload faltered, and then the Genestealer recoiled as a gaping mouth much larger than its own snapped at it, threatening to tear off its entire head with a single bite. The huge jaws slammed shut just millimeters from the alien’s face, but in avoiding a decisively lethal blow it had also released its enemy.

Chrysalis slammed her ion blaster into the Genestealer’s chest, discharging it at the same time. It was blown back from a burst of searing lightning, and a high-pitched shriek came from the monstrosity before Twilight’s fore harmonizer sunk into its chest.

“I have the lock! Stand up!” Twilight shouted, backing toward the changeling. An autogun round whipped by her head, and then another cracked against her shoulder pad from a different angle. Denizens of the refuge were rushing from all three tunnels, joined by furious hybrids and shrieking purestrain Genestealers. Twilight had to imagine this swarm had been waiting for them along some other escape route; had the cult attacked with these numbers right away, she and Chrysalis would have had a much harder time fending them off on their own.

The Changeling Queen stood back up, a guttural snarl issuing from her monstrous head. Twilight didn’t recognize the creature – Chrysalis surely had a much larger inventory of bodies than the ponies would ever know – but seeing its bulbous, bug-eyed head full of huge, curved teeth sitting in the gorget of Gaela’s power armor made her fur bristle.

“Good luck dealing with the kill teams! I hope you all die quickly and with minimal suffering!” Twilight said as power flooded her horn and a violet aura surrounded her and Chrysalis.

Then they vanished in a flash of colored light.

---

Twilight and Chrysalis materialized amidst a shroud of dust, popping back into reality in front of their allies.

A split second later there was a shotgun discharge, and Chrysalis howled in pain before she staggered back a step. Twilight yelped and ducked in surprise, and the other mares flinched.

“WHAAHT AH YOU DOOON?!” boomed the changeling, her voice horribly distorted by her monstrous throat. A green glow swallowed her body, and she rapidly shrunk to her true proportions while clutching the side of her face.

Erin Whyd grimaced, her expression mostly hidden behind her mask but her forehead furrowing. “I… I don’t… is she-“

“Good reflexes cowgirl, but she’s on our side,” Applejack chuckled.

“I’m so sorry dear, you must have been terribly startled,” Rarity said, gently patting Erin on the calf with a boot.

“Why are you apologizing to HER?! I’m the one that got shot!” Chrysalis complained. Dark, oily blood trickled from tears on her neck and cheek, but even at a glance the wound seemed trifling.

“Okay, let’s all just calm down,” Twilight pleaded, sighing and levitating a cloth from the pack tied to her flank. “Things escalated very quickly back there and we’re all a little on edge right now.” She started to dab at the injury with the cloth, which didn’t seem to alleviate the changeling’s mood much.

“A little on edge? Really? You told her the plan, why would she assume anyone you brought along wouldn’t be on our side?” Chrysalis asked.

Rainbow lifted her leg. “Well honestly I’m still a little confused about the sides around here. I guess the refugees are the bad guys now because they teamed up with the Tyranids? Does this mean the Imperium is good now?”

“It doesn’t. Admittedly I’m a lot less worried about their purges now that we know the reason for them, but we still have the same enemies as before. Just… more of them,” Twilight said as she packed away her dirtied cloth.

“What I want to know is how we’re so sure SHE isn’t one of them,” Chrysalis snarled, glaring at Erin. “She seems to be a leader of the refugees’ guards, she said she’s been with them for some time, and now she’s ‘accidentally’ shooting us!”

“I didn’t…” Erin’s fingers tightened around her weapon, but then she sighed and her shoulders slumped. “I suppose I don’t have much I can do to convince you, do I? I oversaw much of the scavenging and security for the sanctuary and somehow completely missed that aliens were picking off our people and… infecting them? Breeding new ones, apparently?” She shuddered. “Would… Would I even know for sure if I was also brainwashed or not?”

“You likely would not, no,” Serith agreed, his arms crossed over his chest. “Although, for what it’s worth, I have seen no signs of it yet. At the very least this cult’s master isn’t controlling her directly, as it did the elder.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Twilight said decisively. “Now let’s find a way out of here.”

“No,” Dest said. “I think the Queen is right.”

Twilight and the other ponies froze in alarm as the Possessed Astartes reloaded his boltgun. Chrysalis blinked in surprise, and Serith quickly turned to face the other Iron Warrior.

“She just had the wrong victim in mind,” Dest said grimly, aiming his boltgun at Trixie Lulamoon.

“… Oh. Wow. I thought for sure he meant me,” Byron mumbled, trying not to look quite as relieved as he felt.

“Wha… What are you doing?!” Trixie asked, rapidly moving from shocked to terrified to outraged. “Trixie is no cultist!” Suuna gasped and took a step back, silently clutching the artifact against her chest.

“And now Trixie’s bad again?! This is what I’m talking about! This is confusing!” Rainbow complained.

“Trixie is NOT bad! Trixie was never bad!” the magician shouted, slamming a boot into the ground. “Why would you think Trixie is infected?!”

“You vanished once we reached the sanctuary and when we found you, you had no recollection of where you went or what had happened. Your helmet was obviously removed by force, and you bear claw wounds on your neck,” Dest explained calmly, his boltgun trained on the unicorn’s head. “I’m almost embarrassed I didn’t realize it before now. You were obviously ambushed by Genestealers.”

The other mares seemed stunned by the explanation, but Trixie was adamant. “Nonsense! Trixie hasn’t been brainwashed!”

“She is correct, driver,” Serith agreed, stepping firmly between Trixie and Dest. “The mares have not been infected.”

“You wouldn’t be able to tell if they had been. You said so yourself,” Dest growled.

“If she didn’t get ambushed by Genestealers,” Twilight said nervously, “then what happened to her? I read about this on the Harvest, and Trixie’s circumstances seem to match a Genestealer ambush perfectly! If there’s no other explanation-“

“I did it,” Serith declared. Trixie and Suuna recoiled in surprise, but the Sorcerer kept his attention focused on the other Space Marine. “I confronted Lady Trixie in the underhive slum and inflicted that wound. I removed her helmet by force. THAT is how I know Genestealers did not attack her, and why I possessed her headgear when you saw me again.”

Dest said nothing, his visor lenses gleaming crimson. He didn’t put his boltgun down, either.

“Nothing to say, driver? Do you suppose I too have been corrupted by the alien?” Serith asked, his voice taunting.

“Obviously not. You have no flesh for the xeno to infect,” Dest agreed, “I just think you’re lying.”

“Wait what,” Byron mumbled, only to be ignored as the standoff escalated.

A wave of raw force blasted out from around Serith, clearing away the settling dust. Trixie and Suuna flinched away, and Byron nearly lost his footing. Electric arcs of black and purple started to crawl over Serith’s armor, and his cape billowed in an invisible wind.

“You think to accuse me, driver?” the Sorcerer said, his voice bubbling with anger underneath an icy veneer of calm. “Has that witless cretin within your mind finally stolen away your senses?” He lifted his force halberd into a combat stance.

“If you have an explanation for why you attacked the illusionist, let’s hear it,” Dest growled, the spines on his armor started to grow again as the daemon within him fed on the rising hostility. “I’m not going to lead an infected psyker back to the fleet because of your ridiculous games or sadistic curiosity.”

“Desty, maybe we could just trust Serith this one time? Please?” Pinkie asked nervously, lifting up the head of her Dreadnought to peer out at the confrontation.

“Ah dunno, Ah’d REALLY like to hear why Serith ended up attackin’ Trixie and how she got away with just a scratch,” Applejack mused.

“I don’t care what happens to the noisy blue unicorn but after one of you dies I really do want to discuss killing the humans too,” Chrysalis said, much to Twilight’s growing frustration. “I think I made a very good case!”

“No! Nobody’s going to die! We just escaped a horde of helpless brainwashed refugees and alien monsters and I am NOT going to let you start killing each other now!” Twilight shouted angrily.

“You can’t tell me you believe this tripe,” Dest said. He kept his bolter aimed straight at Serith’s abdomen, and small flames started flickering around his arms and shoulder. “The Sorcerer stands between a boltgun and the unicorn but we’re to believe he attacked her for some reason he won’t deign to give us?”

“Trixie supposes this must seem quite self-serving at this point to say so, but Trixie believes Serith completely,” the unicorn said, her horn slowly lighting up as she fed power to her armor systems. “Serith’s quirks are many and he’s hardly the most honest Iron Warrior, but inventing absurd stories is beneath him.” Suuna shivered, but she remained next to Trixie while holding the artifact.

“I needn’t explain myself to you, driver. You are not in command here, and your impudence offends me,” Serith hissed. Bits of cracked rock and debris started shaking, and some of the pebbles floated and swirled in the air chaotically as the ripples in reality washed over them. Slithering arcs of darkness seemed to emerge from the links of his armor, snaking up and down the length of his halberd and gathering in his free hand.

Byron and Erin scrambled backward to the cavern wall, their eyes wide in terror and awe. They had never been witness to even the most mundane of Space Marines before. To see Astartes squaring off each other while wielding powers beyond mortal understanding was completely overwhelming, even considering all the other obscene horrors they’d uncovered today.

The ponies were much more familiar with this degree of power and sudden violence, but they too quietly shifted to make space for the two Iron Warriors or escape any likely impact zones for missed attacks. Only Twilight remained between the two, heaving a deep breath and organizing another angry scolding in her head.

Or, at least that’s what she had thought before Fluttershy decloaked in front of her.

“Uhm, excuse me. Mister Dest?” the meek pegasus said, pawing slightly at the air with her foreleg.

“… Make it quick,” Dest commanded, his eyes locked on Serith as his unholy aura burned around him.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I hate to interrupt, but, well, I was just going over my earlier scan of Miss Trixie’s injury while you were arguing, and the cut definitely had many characteristics unique to wounds from power weapon disruption fields, rather than a cut from a very sharp claw. The, er, energy tends to leave these very distinctive micro-blisters behind on the surface. So, uhm, I feel very confident – well, maybe mostly confident? – that her injuries came from Serith’s halberd and not a Genestealer.”

Several seconds passed, the silence only disturbed by the crackling flames and the humming hoarfrost.

“I just wanted to say that, sorry! You can start fighting now!” Fluttershy squeaked, dashing off to the side and promptly winking out of sight again.

Twilight stared meaningfully at Dest. The Possessed Marine finally lowered his boltgun, and the embers around him faded as the tension drained away. Serith likewise relaxed his combat pose, and the waves of psychic power coming off of him ceased.

“… Very well. We can continue this discussion later, when the situation is less… tenuous,” Dest allowed, mag-locking his bolter to his hip. The spines covering his armor started to shrink, as if being slowly absorbed back into the armor plating.

“GOOD,” Twilight said firmly, jumping in before Serith could respond. “I need to write an update to Solon so that he knows what’s going on down here. Erin, do we have a route back to the surface from here?”

“Y-Yes,” she replied, still looking slightly dazed. “Several. The shorter ones tend to be the more dangerous paths, though.”

“We can handle dangerous. I don’t suppose you know the approximate geo-coordinates of the exits?”

“I do not, no. I know the landmarks and regional names, though.”

“Good enough. Choose one that’s unlikely to have Imperial troops waiting at the exit, please,” Twilight opened her pack with her magic, and then withdrew some parchment and a scribe’s pen.

“Maybe the Hexen Lodge exit?” Byron suggested.

“We’d have to circle around the water sumps, and last I heard the kill teams route through there all the time,” Erin replied. “We’ll go to Ein’s well. Ein is a surly thug but I doubt his scavenger teams would want to mess with a Dreadnought… as long as they haven’t been taken over by aliens, I guess. Then they’ll charge whatever they want.”

“Please describe the location, Miss Whyd. Preferably relative to structures or terrain features visible from orbit,” Twilight asked.

“Of course. There’s a checkpoint about six kilometers to the polar East. It hosts an armored division as a waypoint for deeper excursions into the surrounding forests…”

As Erin and Twilight worked on the message, Trixie quietly crept up behind Serith and then gently tapped her boot against his. The Sorcerer turned to face her, but didn’t speak.

“Ahem! Trixie just… wanted to thank you, Serith. For defending Trixie like that,” the unicorn said, looking somewhat embarrassed. “Sparkle was also preparing to help, but Trixie is under no illusions she could have actually stopped Dest.” Suuna nodded silently and bowed her head gratefully in agreement.

“… It would have been an unforgivable waste for you to be executed due to such a foolish error,” Serith said, turning his gaze away once again.

“Trixie completely agrees! What was he thinking?” she huffed. Then she glanced around and leaned in toward the Sorcerer. “But what DID happen to Trixie, anyway? It’s slightly alarming that you cut off Trixie’s helmet and Trixie remembers none of it.”

“A question for another time, my lady,” Serith assured her.

“Okay… but you’re SURE Trixie wasn’t secretly taken over and brainwashed, right?” she asked, her voice betraying a slight trace of fear.

“I’m quite certain the Genestealers did not infect you with their dread curse. Of that you can rest assured, Lady Trixie.”

“That… is not quite what Trixie asked.”

“Another time, my lady.”

“All right! We have our escape route!” Twilight’s horn casing flashed, and the parchment rolled up into a scroll and then vanished into a puff of purple flame. Erin seemed startled at the spell, but couldn’t bring herself to express great shock or request an explanation after everything else that had happened.

“Pinkie, you take the lead. Applejack, you have the rear. Suuna, I want you to remain in the center of our formation at all times! Erin, stay close to the front to guide us and watch for any potential traps or ambush points. If you see something suspicious, get Rainbow Dash to range ahead to check it out.”

“Rainbow Dash is me, by the way,” the pony in question interjected, jumping up into the air and doing a rapid spin. “I know we didn’t really do full introductions and you might not be paying attention because your entire world is falling apart, so just let me know if you have any questions about who’s who! I’m the cool, speedy pony who knows no fear!”

“Yes, fine. Just try not to set off any more traps,” Twilight sighed. “And also, when our allies are getting ready to fight each other, I don’t want you placing bets on the winner, Dash.”

“AJ YOU SNITCH!!” Rainbow shouted.

“It wasn’t me!” the farmer protested.

“Rarity?!”

“I think you’re the one snitching now, darling.”

“PINKIE?!”

“I just thought it was kind of a bad idea,” Pinkie mumbled. “… Although I had 200 bits on Desty, of course.”

“Then you should be grateful to the cowardly mare that she spared you your loss,” Serith said, the sneer evident in his voice. “Shall we depart? This banter is entertaining but the cults are likely moving to intercept us as we speak.”

“Right! Let’s move out!”

---

Ghessheim system
Harvest of Steel
Landing bay 17

“Refined materials, bank D! Munitions, small arms, bank A! Food supplies, bank A! Raw materials, bank F!”

Wind Chime flew over the cargo stacks being slowly moved through the enormous hold, shouting out the proper receptacles for the larger cargo units. A slate of bright orange glassine was attached to her headgear and extended over one eye, picking out the meme-tags left by the auto-brands and listing them for the pegasus. The dataslate clamped awkwardly between her forelegs recorded each scan, organizing the cargo tag according to its type and listing its dimensions for later use.

Lift servitors stomped back and forth at the large doors leading further into the ship, hauling, dragging, or pushing the various containers. From above the loading bay resembled a cluster of insects hard at work, rapidly feeding the stolen cargo where it could be tracked and accessed easily.

“Hey! HEY!” Jewel Bracer shouted, bringing all the movement around her to an immediate halt. “You there, in the back! Take from the TOP of the cargo stacks, not the middle! You’re going to bring down that whole pile!”

Wind Chime quickly whirled in the air, zipping across the hangar with her micro caster to her mouth. “Please be careful! Accidents impede productivity, damage valuable resources, and most importantly, shorten worker lifespans! Safety is always our number one priority!”

The worker gently backed away from the cargo, his hands up and his face darkened from embarrassment. Jewel Bracer just nudged her head to the side. “There’s a ladder over there. Get a buddy to help you set it up and you can get those cylinders at the top of the stack, okay?”

The Dark Techpriests tracking the flow of inventory were discussing whether or not to correct Wind Chime on the nature of their priorities when the main entrance opened up once more. The Iron Warriors standing guard turned to check on the incoming personnel, and then let another Techpriest into the hangar bay. He was followed by numerous guards belonging to the Merchant Corp, who briefly scanned the area before letting Trademaster Delgan into the hangar. The Dark Techpriests turned their full attention to the new arrivals, and then quickly moved down the observation platform’s stairs to intercept them.

“Interrogative: Why have additional units been dispatched to this work zone? Further assistance was not requested,” buzzed one of the machine cultists.

He was expecting a response from his peer, but it was Norris Delgan who stepped forward to explain. “We’ve been instructed to conduct a surprise inspection,” the Trademaster said, making a shallow bow. “I’m afraid this will be disruptive to your operation by design. It is quite necessary, however.”

“Expound,” commanded the Techpriest.

The Techpriest that had just entered was setting up a pair of seats in front of a device most notable for the long, thin tubes extended from it. A unicorn pony was with him, opening a box full of needles and attaching one to the machine’s primary tube.

The Techpriest turned away from his work briefly and bleated something in Binaric Cant. Then he went back to the assembly, attaching the device to the local power supply.

“…… Affirmative, Trademaster. You may begin,” offered the Dark Techpriest reluctantly. “Do you require assistance?”

“No, but I want to confirm that these menials have been isolated from the rest of the ship and kept under quarantine protocols,” Delgan said.

“Affirmative. Addendum: It is standard procedure to isolate new workers away from other crew populations and critical systems until we have departed the system they were seized from.”

“Of course. Primarily to catch spies or prevent any sudden ‘heroics’ among our new staff, but quite fortuitous in this case, too,” Delgan noted.

“Trademaster, we’re ready,” said the pony tending to the machine. She was a light pink unicorn with a pitch black mane that was swept to one side, covering half of her face. Her cutie mark was a scalpel among a crimson swirl, exposed for all to see since she only wore the top half of her medicae uniform.

“Good.” Delgan raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

Wind Chime jolted, and then whirled about in surprise. Jewel Bracer also turned her head, although her reaction was more muted. Both mares rushed back across the hangar to meet the Trademaster, looking perplexed and slightly worried.

“Lord Trademaster, is something wrong?” Jewel asked cautiously once she reached a comfortable speaking distance. Wind Chime hovered over her, looking even more worried.

“Perhaps. We are here to ascertain that,” Delgan said, clasping his arms behind his back. “Your new instructions are as follows: You’re to gather two workers. They will be secured and undergo a brief test. When that is complete they will be escorted into the ship for a long break. You will then gather two more workers. This will continue until there are no more workers in the hangar. Is that understood?”

Wind Chime and Jewel Bracer shared a dubious glance, and then nodded sharply.

Across the hangar, two of the workers silently watched the encounter. Their brows furrowed as they stared at the device that was set up next to the seats. They couldn’t identify it, but the clear tubes and sterilized needles provided a strong clue as to the nature of the machine. They had endured a brief bio-scan screening when they had been captured and granted a contract, but nothing extensive.

Then the overseer ponies ordered the nearest menials over to the chairs, and the Techpriest strapped them down.

The workers turned to each other, their expressions grim. One nodded. Then they turned and started moving deeper into the hangar.

“Lord Trademaster, Sir, won’t this, uh, testing or whatever it is interfere with the operation?” Wind Chime asked nervously.

“Yes. Unfortunate, but necessary. The omega rotation will be finishing things here. It will still take longer though, as they’re a bit short-handed,” Delgan explained.

“They are? Isn’t that rotation a little bigger than this one?” Jewel Bracer asked.

“Not anymore, no.”

The overseer ponies stared blankly, well aware of the implications of that reply but unable to think of what exactly might have happened. One of the workers had a needle inserted into his arm, and soon after blood started to flow through a tube and into the mysterious device. The other menial seemed to test his restraints, and despite having sat down willingly he began to grow alarmed.

“What are you doing? What is this?” He shouted, twisting back and forth in his seat. “Nobody said nothing about a blood draw!”

The Dark Techpriest shrieked something in Binaric, but before he could interfere the unicorn mare reared up and propped her front hooves against the restraint chair.

“Please refrain from any sudden movement. It’s just a little prick and we’re all done, ‘kay?” she said brightly, smiling down at the man. “My name is Doctor Claret Heartthrob, by the way! What’s your name?”

“I… I’m Wilson Briggs,” the man said, still somewhat wild-eyed.

“Nice to meet you, Wilson! Thanks for being such a good patient for me!” Claret grinned and flicked her ear, which had several silver studs in it. She also had a pair of rings around her horn, and a chain linked between them that quivered gently as it began to glow a bright red. “I know it can be a bit scary having your fluids drawn, but I want to assure you that SNEAK ATTACK!”

The needle suddenly plunged into his arm on the opposite side from where Claret was, and he yelped in pain and squeezed his eyes shut. Blood ran through the tube connected to the needle, and after a few seconds Claret lifted it back out with her magic.

“There you go, big guy!” she said brightly, levitating a bandage and slapping it over the puncture wound on his arm. “Just give it a second to process and you’re good to go!”

She stepped over to the device, which was being manned by a Dark Techpriest. Delgan walked over to her, lowering his voice so that their patients couldn’t hear.

“You have a fascinating bedside manner, Doctor Heartthrob,” the Trademaster said conversationally.

“Oh, YOU,” she flushed, fluttering the only eyelash visible past her mane. “But please, call me Claret! My last name is unnecessarily salacious.”

“Of course, Doctor Claret.” Delgan glanced behind him at the increasingly uncomfortable workers secured to the examination chairs. “Do we have Mister Briggs’ results?” he asked, lowering his voice further.

Claret looked up at the machine. There were multiple blinking lights of different colors and strips of tape being printed all over the face of the machine, which made it a confusing, senseless jumble to the Trademaster. The unicorn medicae gave it barely a glance before her smile widened.

“Looks like he’s clean! Just afraid of needles, I guess! Poor guy,” she said, chuckling into a hoof.

“Excellent. And the other?”

Claret Heartthrob stopped chuckling and her smile became much smaller. She didn’t answer him verbally, but instead raised her hoof to her neck and drew it to the side. The Techpriest next to Delgan blurted something in Binaric Cant, and then nodded in agreement.

Delgan turned around and made a gesture to the armed men waiting at the exit. “Escort this man back to his bunk room,” he ordered, pointing to Wilson Briggs. Then he pointed to the other worker. “Give this one a tour of the calefactor.”

The masked soldiers rushed into action, surrounding the examination chairs and looming over them while the Dark Techpriest disengaged their bonds. The way both men were seized and hauled away from the test site it wouldn’t be at all obvious which one was being carried to his untimely death.

“Next!” the Trademaster bellowed while Claret swapped the needles and the Dark Techpriest cleaned the feed tubes.

“What are they doing? Where are Wilson and Hayes going?” one of the menials asked while wiping the sweat from his brow. Many other workers had slowed in their labor as well, watching perplexed as their fellows were hauled away.

“It looks like they injected them with something?”

“Or maybe drew some blood? Is it a test? Did those two fail or something?”

“Why would they be doing this here in the hangar rather than at the bunks? Crazy…”

Two menials strode past the others, occasionally stopping in front of several other workers and whispering something in their ears. Those they spoke to followed, and they walked through the cargo bay toward a particular metal crate in front of a pair of stacked shipping containers.

Without hesitation or further discussion the menials started opening the crate, disengaging the mag-lock and lifting the top. Several autoguns of various make and design were loosely stacked inside, but rather than marking the crate the workers started handing out the guns among the small mob they had formed.

“Excuse me!”

Several of the workers jumped in surprise, and then realized that Wind Chime was watching them from atop the shipping containers.

“Please do NOT handle the content of the cargo! Besides being potentially dangerous, these items belong to the fleet, and… hey, are you listening?”

As the menials started handing out ammunition magazines and loading their weapons, Wind Chime had to conclude that they were not, in fact, listening to her.

“Hey! Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!” the pegasus shouted through the micro-caster, alerting the entire hangar bay. “Put down that gun this instant, young man! Don’t make me-YEEEP!!”

She ducked down as one of the menials opened fire at her, pressing her body tight against the top of the container. “Help! Someone stop them! SECURITY!!”

As shock and confusion spread throughout the hangar, the cultists began opening the shipping containers their overseer was sheltering on. Locks were unsealed, chains were shot apart, and the doors on the container of “plasteel ingots” opened up.

Seconds later, Purestrain Genestealers started clambering out onto the deck, snarling angrily at having their hibernation interrupted.

+Engage insurgency protocol beta. Activating sector quarantine,+ a Dark Techpriest sputtered, his hands and augmetic implements working at the control console. Blast doors slammed shut over all the exits and entrances, and alarm klaxons began to blare. +Inform all security teams. Lethal force has been authorized.+

The Dark Techpriest withdrew a pistol that resembled a brass-etched antique, with a bulbous wooden stock and a daemon’s mouth for a barrel. He pulled back the hammer, and a flickering orange flame started to leak out the end.

“Imperative: Eliminate all hostiles. Carve out this xeno-borne cancer and return to work. DESTROY.”

“It seems the testing cycle has ended early,” Delgan commented glibly as his soldiers started rushing to cover. “Miss Bracer?”

“Eh?” The earth pony was clearly very confused, but she gave Delgan her full attention as the sounds of gunfire started to fill the hangar. Several of the armed workers were forming a firing line behind the containers with a clear view to the exits, but they were swiftly suppressed once the two Astartes standing guard ran into cover and started shooting back. Delgan’s guards likewise formed a gun line, and the combination of streaming lasfire and mass-reactive rounds dominated the firefight in short order.

“Have the workers already moved any fuel supplies or unstable explosives?” Delgan asked suddenly.

Jewel Bracer blinked. “Uh, yes, I think so. There’s several medium-sized canisters of promethium that we moved into the resource bays a little while ago. Why do you-“

“I see them!” Delgan interrupted before drawing his power sword. The canisters were long, pill-shaped vessels, laid out next to each other on the belt leading deeper into the ship.

“Techpriests! Evacuate! You’re too close!” the Trademaster shouted, pointing his blade to the vessel. The observation platform they were standing on was elevated, and well-protected with barrier walls that provided excellent cover. They were positioned right over the resource bays, however.

“Contra: Those containers are rated to resist small-arms fire,” bleated one of the tech-cultists while the other one jumped down from the platform and started running across the hangar. “Excise the insurgent ele-“

A small det-charge – probably scavenged from other supplies in the hangar – suddenly sparked beneath the fuel vessel, and the other pirates flinched away as the promethium container detonated. The control platform was torn apart along with its sole remaining occupant, and several of the servitors stuck in place after the blast doors closed were engulf by flames.

“Blasted xeno slaves,” Delgan grumbled.

“Wh… H-How did you know they’d do that?” Jewel Bracer asked, ducking behind the examination chair for cover.

“This isn’t the first worker rebellion I’ve been forced to put down, Miss Bracer. Whether a product of insidious alien corruption or insufficient work ethic, these wretches play the same asinine tricks.” He withdrew a small green capsule from his belt and tossed it into his mouth. “Tricks aside, however, these rabble are little threat. The security I have on hand and the two Iron Warriors should be more than a match.”

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!” Wind Chime flew across the hangar with desperate speed, shrieking as loud as she could into her micro-caster. “MONSTERS!! THEY HAVE MONSTERS!! HELP!!”

“Oh, for the love of Tzeentch,” Delgan groaned as the first Genestealers began bounding over the containers and into the fray.

“XENO!! Target the alien!” roared an Iron Warrior, shifting his focus at the first sight of the four-armed monstrosities. Bolters, lasguns, and pulse rifles converged on the new target in moments, pouring through the area of empty deck space between the exits and the vast piles of cargo which had yet to be sorted and moved. It was cut down almost instantly, unable to dodge such a wide fusillade.

Two more Genestealers leapt over cover, snarling angrily while they sprinted across the room. Behind them, the Genestealer Cultists stood up and opened fire again now that most of the enemy soldiers had more important targets. Bullets and lasers and crackling pulse blasts criss-crossed the hangar, all the while under the grating whine of the alarms.

“Stand up, brothers! The enemy stands before you!” shouted one of the armed menials, thrusting his autogun into the air and beckoning toward another cluster of containers.

Dozens of workers had ducked into hiding rather than joining the battle, confused and horrified by the sudden outbreak of fighting. Those men and women stared at the insurgents in slack-jawed awe, shocked and amazed that the other menials would suddenly attack the Chaos pirates in their own ship. When one of the fighters beckoned to them, however, none of them stood up.

“Your Emperor demands you take the fight to these traitorous heretics!” the gunman said, sweeping a hand toward the Iron Warriors. “WE are the vanguard of His justice!”

A Genestealer sprinted by in front of the man, jumping on top of a large case of lumen fixtures and then leaping into the crossfire.

“… Was that thing also the vanguard of the Emperor’s justice?” spat one woman kneeling behind a stack of piping.

“The Emperor works in mysterious ways!” the insurgent shouted, turning back to the firefight and loosing a burst across the room.

Then a small orb of bright orange struck the man in the shoulder, and he suddenly collapsed into a pile of superheated grains.

“Imperative: STAND DOWN OR BE TERMINATED,” howled the Dark Techpriest, smoke pouring from the barrel of his pistol. Tiny servo arms started the unnecessarily laborious process of reloading the weapon, and a pair of servo arms with attached stub-carbines sprayed a constant torrent of bullets at the Genestealer Cultists.

Two more Purestrain Genestealers leapt out into the open deck and charged the Techpriest, but one caught a series of lasblasts in the leg and staggered. A mass-reactive bolt round finished it off, boring into its chest and blasting a gaping crater into its torso. As it fell the other Genestealer leapt, clearing a spray of bullets as the servo-mounted guns tried to intercept its approach.

“WARNING!” screeched the Techpriest as the Genestealer landed on him, slashing one servo limb off and driving a claw straight through his breast plate. The tech-cultist fell, and oil mixed with blood within his robes as the alien assailant withdrew its talons.

The Techpriest tried to bring his axe up to attack, but the alien simply swatted his arm away, knocking the weapon to the ground. The mask of glimmering green optics watched helplessly as the Genestealer chambered an arm for a killing blow, unable to resist further.

Then a brilliant blue flash erupted from above the alien’s body, and its head fell from its neck.

“Techpriest Galvon, are your wounds mortal?” Delgan kicked the decapitated Genestealer off of the cyborg, and then kneeled down next to him. His power sword glowed a brilliant blue while it burnt away the alien ichor, and his bracers hummed with energy as they wrapped his forearms in swirling force shields.

“Analyzing… chances of imminent unit shutdown are 62% without prompt medicae treatment,” the Techpriest bleated.

“Looks like I’ve got work to do, then!” Claret shouted, sliding to a stop behind the prone Techpriest. Her horn lit up, and a scalpel and micro-torch slipped out of the pocket on her uniform. “I’ll take care of him, Trademaster! If you can keep us from getting shot or eviscerated, I mean.”

The Techpriest blurted something in Binaric Cant while she started digging into the armor breach.

“Yes, I know how to triage bionics. Now please lay still and reduce fluid pressure to… what’s this block number… uh, six, one, seven?” Her scalpel gently floated into the wound, and then the micro-torch ignited.

“You can understand Binaric?” Delgan asked, crouching next to a long metal crate.

“No, not at all. You can usually get a sense of what they’re saying by the tone and context, though. It’s a surprisingly expressive language!” The scalpel suddenly dove into the wound, and several of the Techpriest’s servo arms twitched in sympathy to the pain. “Please excuse me, Trademaster. I need to concentrate for this part.” The micro torch descended into the wound, and a crackling hiss came from the contact.

Delgan wordlessly acknowledged Claret’s request, and then checked the disposition of the battle. The Genestealers that had rushed the Iron Warriors were dead, but the insurgents had used the diversion to reinforce their firing line and dig in, and had cut down a few of the Merchant Corp guards in the process. Neither the Company troops nor the enemy were near breaking yet, but there was no obvious way the Tyranid-infected workers could prevail; even if they managed to stop the Space Marines, their elimination was inevitable. The Iron Warriors had endless reinforcements and supplies within the flagship and the insurgents apparently hadn’t even snuck in enough Genestealers for a successful charge.

If victory was impossible, what else would their goal be? A last stand before they were all rooted out and destroyed? That was the obvious answer, but since they had somehow smuggled Genestealers onto the flagship it wasn’t the only one.

Delgan stood up and pointed his sword toward the left side of the enemy firing line. “SUPPRESSIVE FIRE!!” he barked, promptly dashing across an open stretch of deck. Heavy laser fire washed over the modular containers the insurgents were using for cover, burning dozens of holes into the metal shielding in seconds. A worker that stood up for too long trying to aim a burst at the swordsman was struck down by a pair of lasblasts, and a second one that was simply a second late in ducking had his shoulder blown apart by a bolt round.

Norris Delgan reached another stack of containers for cover, only for a menial to jump out from behind them with a stub pistol. The second lost in order to bring about and aim the weapon proved too much, and in a flash of blue light the gun and much of the man’s hand was sliced apart. The worker staggered backward, and Delgan advanced with a second swing of his blade that finished him off.

“Trademaster, above you!” Wind Chime screamed from the scaffolding near the top of the hangar bay.

Delgan bolted forward, barely staying ahead of a Genestealer that leapt at him from above. He wasn’t even sure which cargo pile it had been hiding on, and when the alien missed its feet hit the deck with a disturbingly feather-light tap. A feral hiss came from the xeno monstrosity, and Delgan turned to meet it with an oath on his tongue.

The alien darted forward, slashing with both it right arms, and the Trademaster parried with his free hand. The bracer around his arm flashed a bright orange, its oscillating particle screens converging on the impact of the talons. The Genestealer’s claws bounced off with a level of force it apparently found surprising, and it was forced to rebalance itself on one leg.

Delgan’s power sword struck, slicing off both of the alien’s left arms in a single swing. He immediately turned away from a counter-slash that came far too close to landing. Genestealers were very powerful and dexterous melee fighters, and the Trademaster was quite concerned that some of them were apparently hiding in reserve rather than charging into the enemy.

Delgan blocked another strike, deflecting the alien’s claw to the side once more. This time it was ready, however, and dove in to bite him directly. The moment the Genestealer opened its jaws Delgan fed it his power sword, stabbing straight into its brain case and punching through the back of its skull.

“Disgusting,” Delgan sneered as the alien went limp. He kicked the Genestealer corpse off his blade, hurling it into the open deck. Then he took a moment to collect himself.

“Sir! Trademaster Delgan!” Wind Chime shouted again from above. “In the back! The four-armed aliens are crawling into the ventilation shafts!”

“What?!” Delgan exclaimed. A string of bullets scythed across his position, and stub rounds ricocheted harshly off the crate at his back.

“On both sides of the hangar! They’re YEEP!” Wind Chime flinched and ducked down when a bullet crashed against the railing next to her.

“We cannot wait for the other security teams!” growled one of the Iron Warriors, drawing his combat knife. “Techpriest! Close the emergency ventilation shutters!”

“Acknowledged. Primary, secondary, and tertiary vent shutters engaged,” replied the tech-cultist that had come to test the workers. “Warning: Obstructions of this degree will provide only temporary hindrance to these xenos.”

“Then HURRY!” snarled the Iron Warrior, leaping over the barricade. The other Chaos Marine joined him, and several of Delgan’s guards stood up to give them cover fire during the charge.

“Miss Bracer!” Delgan shouted over the intensifying din of gunfire. “Get a grenade belt and come to me!”

“Y-Yes Sir!” the mare shouted, immediately leaving her hiding spot and rushing to the nearest soldier. Stub rounds and lasers flashed back and forth across the hangar, but with the Space Marines leading a charge on one side of the room her sprint went mostly unnoticed.

“This is somewhat beneath my pay grade, but such is the pirate’s life,” Delgan murmured, peeking out at the enemy firing line. The Genestealer Cultists were falling back from their cover, trying to spread out and surround the Astartes so they could attack from all directions while the Space Marines had to chase each victim. Not the worst tactical response to an Astartes charge, but it would barely serve to delay them. These fools were selling their lives to ensure that the aliens could get deeper into the ship.

With a derisive snort, Delgan left his cover.

In two seconds he was behind one of the armed workers. The infected menial was facing away from him, spewing burst after burst from his autogun at the Chaos Space Marines tearing through his comrades. He didn’t even realize there was another threat before a power sword swung for his neck, striking his head clean off.

Delgan reached the next target just as she turn her stub carbine toward him, howling an incoherent prayer to the aliens that had enslaved her. His blade sliced upward, and the carbine was cut in two. The blade came down again, and the menial died with an enraged shriek.

“Trademaster! I have the grenades!” shouted Jewel Bracer, jumping over a case of water purifiers and ducking behind a crate. The belt was hung over her neck, the attached explosives jostling and rattling with every step. “What now?!”

Delgan slid out of the way as a menial fired a stub pistol at him, and then cut off the man’s arm with a single sword strike. “Just a moment.” The laborer reeled back, and then suddenly charged again with a crazed howl.

Delgan leapt backward with a disgusted grunt, avoiding the lunge. Another wide slash sent the corrupted menial spinning onto the floor, bleeding profusely from his chest.

“This way, Miss Bracer. Miss Chime! Please alert us if there’s any more ambushers!” the merchant shouted before rushing up to another large shipping container.

“But they shoot at me when I shout!” Wind Chime complained, hugging onto a high above girder. The very next moment another stub round ricocheted off the supports above her, and the pegasus started to cry.

“You’re a far more difficult target than we are, you’ll be fine!” Delgan barked, peeking around the end of the shipping container. A shotgun promptly fired in his direction, and Delgan ducked back as the blast tore across the heavy crate.

“Well that’s not good,” Delgan grumbled, dusting off his sleeve.

“What are we going to do? What’s taking the security teams so long?!” Jewel Bracer asked.

“Probably checking every corridor on the way to ensure no saboteurs are sneaking deeper into the ship,” Delgan mumbled. Then he kneeled down and lowered his voice. “Miss Bracer, I want you to count to five and then sprint across the opening.”

“Wh-What? Why? Why me?” she stuttered.

“As a diversion. Just keep your head down; you’ll be fine. They mostly aim at human chest level.” Delgan turned to face the shipping container they were hiding behind and grabbed onto the top corner with his free hand, bracing one foot against the side. “Begin.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this!” Jewel complained as she started the countdown in her head.

“If you get hit, you can expect a bonus for the trouble,” Delgan assured her. “So long as you survive, of course.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!” Jewel Bracer started screaming as she leapt out of cover, bolting from behind one cargo container to another. As predicted a shotgun fired the moment she was sighted, and also as predicted the shot went high, cutting closely enough to tear off some of her mane.

She scrambled behind a stack of crates, and then curled up tightly as stub rounds hammered the containers next to her. One of the smaller boxes broke under the barrage and tipped over, spilling its cargo of chemical beads onto the quivering pony.

There were two workers suppressing her position from behind several neopolymer ingots stacked into barricades, with a third trying to find an angle to shoot the pegasus who kept spotting them from the ceiling. None of them heard Delgan’s footsteps against the shipping container over the rattle of autogun fire. The Trademaster landed with a wide diagonal slash, slicing one man fully in two with a brilliant arc of electric blue.

The shotgunner turned to face the threat, and Delgan seized the weapon with his free hand, holding its aim toward the third opponent. The shotgunner pulled the trigger in a panic, sending his ally to the ground on a wash of hot blood. Delgan promptly skewered the last insurgent, plunging his blade deep into the brainwashed menial’s abdomen.

“You have my thanks for missing my subordinate. You saved me a bonus payment,” the Trademaster said, yanking the shotgun from the menial’s weakening grip. “You are now dismissed.”

Delgan kicked the menial off of the blade of his power sword, and then withdrew a cloth from his pocket. “Miss Jewel Bracer! The area is secure. Bring the grenades.”

The mare poked her head out from cover, and then bolted across the open deck to her employer. The battle on the other side of the hangar was reaching its conclusion, with the Iron Warriors chasing down the last of the armed workers and executing them. The combat was nearly over, but the threat was not.

Jewel Bracer gulped when she joined the Trademaster and saw their objective: an air vent in the wall, just above the floor, with its grill covering shredded apart. It was the sort of damage that probably would have gone unnoticed among the carnage if it weren’t for Wind Chime spotting where the Genestealers went.

“That space looks pretty small. Are you sure something as big as those four-armed monsters could get in there?” Jewel Bracer asked nervously, looking around for any other potential hiding spaces.

“Tyranids are disgustingly dynamic and insidious creatures. If Miss Chime said they were squeezing in there, I believe her.” He paused to rap his knuckles against the bulkhead. “The vent has a downward incline from this hangar, I believe. Detach several of the grenades, but don’t remove the arming pins. We’re going to throw them inside in rapid sequence. MISS WIND CHIME!”

A surprised squeak came from above.

“The enemy is defeated! Come down here!” Delgan barked. “Doctor Claret! If you can assist, come here!”

“Do you want her to help grenade this vent, or to look at that cut?” Jewel Bracer asked.

“Grenades. I’ve found that unicorn levitation is very…” Delgan trailed off. “Cut? What cut?”

The Trademaster looked behind him, and saw to his alarm that there were spots of bright red on the deck that matched his path to the vent. It was difficult to tell at a glance given the rest of the blood and gore spread across the area, but he was sure it was from him. He didn’t feel a thing aside from a slight dampness on his back that he had mistaken for sweat. Partially a result of the cut being so shallow, but surely his combat drugs contributed to it as well.

“That damnable xeno beast!” Delgan snapped, his face turning red in anger. “I thought it missed entirely! This jacket is ruined now!”

“Okay, yeah, I don’t think that’s going to wash out but the bigger problem is…” Jewel Bracer trailed off, and her ear twitched. “Hey… do you hear-“

The sound of something sliding roughly against metal was all the warning Jewel Bracer got before the top end of a Genestealer erupted from the duct opening with one claw reaching for her throat. The mare screamed and reared up, kicking her forelegs in a panic. Wind Chime also screamed and flailed, despite still being some thirty feet away and airborne and therefore completely safe.

Delgan reacted more decisively, stabbing his power sword into the top of the alien. The sword punched through the base of its neck and pierced down into the floor, cutting into the metal deck plating and pinning the Genestealer in place. This left only its head and one arm free from the vent, with the rest of its body still squeezed inside.

“YEEEEEEEEEEEK!! LET GO LET GO LET GO!!” the alien had missed Jewel Bracer’s head but had seized the grenade belt instead. Jewel Bracer tugged and flailed desperately to get free, but the Genestealer’s single arm held firm, even despite the devastating wound inflicted to the monster. With a snarl, the Genestealer started to drag her closer.

“Blasted insects!” Delgan growled, kicking the alien’s head. “This is why I require TWO swords!” He continued hold down the blade that had impaled the enemy, unsure if the sword had dug deep enough to keep the Genestealer pinned without his weight. If it got just one more arm free it would become a significantly greater threat.

“HELP!! Keep it AWAY!!” Jewel Bracer cried, trying to kick at the Genestealer’s claw with absolutely no success.

“I’m TRYING!” Delgan shouted back, planting his foot into the alien’s neck. “Accursed xeno monster! You’re going to cost me her hazard pay!”

“TRADEMASTER DELGAN, PLEASE STEP AWAY FROM THE XENO!! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY SAFETY ANNOUNCEMENT!!” Wind Chime shouted through her micro-caster, startling the others.

The moment Delgan drew back, a small orange orb struck the Genestealer in the head. The alien’s furious snarls trailed off as it disintegrated into glowing sparks, its chitin and internals melting off the power sword in an instant. A rash of yellow stuck to the blade’s edge where it had touched the alien, rapidly darkening as the weapon cooled.

“Proximate threat terminated. Proceed with subsystem purge.” The Dark Techpriest approached them with smoke wafting from the barrel of his strange antique pistol and a significant limp in his gait. There was also a bandage wrapped around his torso, already stained extensively with various fluids.

Claret Heartthrob trotted up behind him, looking quite pleased with herself. “Sorry about the delay, Trademaster. Our technical support is back on his feet.”

Dark Techpriest Galvon blasted something in Binaric, and Claret tittered into her hoof. “You’re welcome, Techpriest! Just try to minimize articulated movement on your right side, okay? Fluid pressure isn’t going to be nominal until you get those tubing bundles rebuilt.”

“Miss Bracer! The grenades!” Delgan shouted, yanking his sword out of the deck.

“R-Right!” Jewel Bracer shook her head to clear it, and then slipped the belt off of her neck. Then she stared at the many fragmentation canisters questioningly. “Ah, I have to pull the pin, and then they’ll explode, right? Is there any way to-“

Claret’s horn flashed, and an aura of dark red swept over the belt in Jewel’s hooves. All the pins snapped loose of the fragmentation grenades, falling to the floor in a careless pile.

“Yeep!” Jewel Bracer shoved the entire belt into the vent opening, and then covered her face with her hooves.

A few second later a thunderous blast was heard from the ventilation shaft, followed by a brief, angry shriek.

“Status update: ventilation section H-913.8 internal shutters remain intact. Hostile non-responsive. Flagging duct system for deep scan and corpse removal. Sector quarantine downgraded until complete sweep is complete.” Dark Techpriest Galvon swiveled away after speaking, limping back to the burnt-out remains of the observation platform.

“Well that… could have gone worse? I think?” Wind Chime asked nervously.

“It seems the security team is finally here,” Delgan sighed, cleaning the strange particulate remains that had been burned onto the blade of his sword. “Let’s finish up here.”

“Do you want me to look at your back?” Claret asked, eyeing the long, blood-soaked tear in the Trademaster’s coat.

“Later, Doctor. Some of my men have been shot. Attend to them immediately,” Delgan commanded. “If not treated immediately, I may have to pay for augmetic implants later, and this farce is already threatening my bottom line.”

“Of course, Trademaster,” Claret Heartthrob said with a nod and a small smile.

Delgan led the other mares toward the middle of the hangar where the newly arrived security team had met with the Iron Warrior guards. Dead bodies and blood slicks were scattered about the area, and in the middle some twenty menials were kneeling on the deck, hands behind their heads. Most held the position in fearful silence, but some of the workers were babbling in terror or weeping openly. A ring of Iron Warriors surrounded them, and a unit champion with a power fist was directing the newly arrived soldiers.

“My Lord,” Delgan said smartly, stepping up behind the better-armed Astartes and bowing deeply. “We fed fragmentation charges into the ventilation shaft on the other side of the hangar. Techpriest Galvon reports that the situation is stable, but is preparing a more extensive probe to ensure the xeno threat was eliminated.”

“We have done the same on this side,” the champion barked, his voice laced with malice and anger. “We will conduct deep bio-scans and search any containers large enough to transport Genestealers. Your operations are suspended until the check is complete. Get out of the way, merchant.”

“Yes, Lord.”

Then the Iron Warrior gestured to the workers kneeling behind him. “Escort these fools to the Calefactor and toss them in. In addition, by the Warsmith’s order we are to take no more slaves or contractors from this system.”

“Unfortunate,” Delgan mumbled.

“Hey, wait, why do these workers have to be fed into the reactor? They didn’t do anything wrong,” Jewel Bracer complained.

“Silence, equine,” the Chaos Space Marine snapped. “Any one of these wretches could be hiding Tyranid corruption.”

“I thought we could screen for that, though,” Wind Chime interjected.

“Ladies, do not argue with the Iron Warrior,” Delgan warned, still standing stiffly at attention.

“Heed your master’s words, slave,” the champion growled, staring down at Jewel Bracer. “These vermin will be disposed of, and if you persist in your defiance you shall join them.”

The menials became increasingly miserable, and several more began openly sobbing. The Astartes champion glared down at Jewel Bracer, looming over the earth pony with the fingers of his power fist opening and closing menacingly. The mare stared back up, her brow creased in concern.

“My Lord, are you okay? You seem really upset,” Jewel Bracer said, “do you want to talk about it?”

“I… that… what?” the hulking armored warrior stumbled over his words uncertainly.

“I used to be a clinical therapist before I became a space pirate,” she replied, “my schedule’s looking fairly clear for the rest of the day since we have to wait for the security sweep. Would you like to get together and chat? I think you’d feel a lot better afterward.”

“I can vouch for her!” shouted Claret Heartthrob while she tenderly withdrew a stub slug from a man’s shoulder. “I see her all the time!”

“Drinking heavily while complaining about your love life isn’t really what I’d consider therapy, but whatever helps I guess,” Jewel Bracer chuckled. “What do you say, my Lord?”

The Iron Warrior stared down at the earth pony, and then looked over to the menials. Most of them were quivering in terror and trying to avoid eye contact. Delgan had likewise found something interesting to stare at near the back of the hangar, his expression perfectly neutral.

“I… have to oversee the initial sweep,” the unit champion said, his voice softer. He straightened so that his posture was less openly menacing.

“That’s fine, Lord. I have to help get these poor workers screened for Genestealer corruption, so I’ll still be here for a while,” Jewel Bracer said with a warm smile. “Just come get me if you want a friendly ear, okay?”

The Chaos Space Marine mumbled something vaguely affirmative as he walked off, and then swiftly started shouting and pointing to cargo containers. The menials stared in stupefied awe. Delgan released a deep sigh.

“You ridiculous mares are going to give me an ulcer, you know that?” he said gruffly, narrowing his eyes at the earth pony.

“Awwww! You DO care about us, don’t you, Lord Trademaster?” Wind Chime giggled into her hooves while hovering over the merchant.

“Don’t test how much,” Delgan retorted, “now enough dallying; I want these people lined up for screening immediately! You’ve probably spared their lives, so I expect that debt to be repaid with productive hours the minute this hold is deemed secure!”

“Yes, Trademaster!” chirped Jewel Bracer.

“Is there any chance the cookies are still on offer?” Wind Chime asked.

“We may yet have alien infiltrators waiting to tear us apart at the first opportunity, and you’re worried about COOKIES?” Delgan said, his mustache shifting in a distinctly disapproving manner.

“Whoa, hey, what’s this about cookies?” Claret Heartthrob asked, tapping the back of Delgan’s leg with a hoof. “I saved like three guys, can I get cookies for that? What if I stitch up your back too? I want in.”

Delgan held his disappointed stare for about ten seconds before he sighed again and started taking off his coat. “All right, fine. I suppose it wouldn’t do to meet the bakers while I’m bleeding all over the deck, would it?”

“YAAAAY!!”

Author's Note:

Another chapter completed! Gotta be honest I spent way less time than I thought on the Equinoughts and way more on the ship describing an utterly one-sided battle and then I realized that I'd hit almost 20k words. Dem pants robbers is sneaky like that.
Random pic of Doctor Claret Heartthrob for no reason

Comments

[Jest]

Its okay, I didnt want to get anything done this evening anyway.

[Emperor of Jurai]

Oh look more ponies spitting in the eye of the GRIMDARK. Also YAY COOKIES!

[Easysnuggler]

Come join the Chaos space marines! We have cookies!

Thats the best reason i’ve ever heard for joining Chaos. I wonder if they have the crispy yet chewy lemon sugar ones?

[A Predatorial Horse]

Uh oh, better look out. GW might issue a cease and desist.

[Josiador]

10959886
For the last time, they aren't doing that with fanfiction.

[TinyPlaidNinjas]

I love Twilight's character development. It's like she switched all her booky nerd powers from learning about magic to learning about war and she's getting really good at it too. Have I also mentioned how goddamn funny this story is? I love it. You do the work of the Dark Gods, SF.

[Notsae]

And once more the valiant forces of Chaos defeat the vile xenos! Their stalwart bravery and heroic spirits shining through in the faces of the abomination's relentless aggression! Truly, a sterling example to all!

[Hey its that Pony]

Chrysalis continues to be an excellent addition to the cast. I love her developing relationships with everyone.

I love the tactical details of your battles. They really help to make the fights interesting along with making the characters more solid.

The fights against genestealers are always interesting even when they are one-sided. The genestealers themselves are such a threat that it helps to make the fight harrowing even if they lose.

[Animatorsnake]

Victory for CHAOS! ...wait a minute... WHO STOLE THE ALL THE JEANS!

[ShadowsInTheDark]

Oh yes join chaos we have cookies.

[DracoDarastrix]

Woh! The iron warriors really dodged a bullet here. Genestealer infestations are not a joke.

[Mix-up]

Fun chapter, I honestly though the medical ponies would have given lollipops to each one of their patients at some point, I guess the rand out of them. Was nice to see the trade master again and still counting beans and 'caring' for his employees. I wonder what part of the plot that raid would serve, would it mean that their Genestealer Cults was much more wide spread then we would have originally assumed and the 38th arrival precipitated there revolt sooner or was it they were hoping to stoleaway to where ever they were going next?

[Shoggoth]

It's going to be really funny if/when the Iron Warriors end up with the most emotionally stable troops this side of the galaxy simply because they're the only ones in recent known history to actually find a therapist.

Join the Iron Warriors branch of Chaos today! We have a great health plan if you're important enough!

[A Predatorial Horse]

10959894
You sound like a simp. Are you a simp?

[SFaccountant]

10960156
If you have comments unrelated to the story then take them somewhere else, please.

[Ri2]

I'm curious about what was going on with that one Iron Warrior. Have his prayers not been answered lately? Is he having trouble meeting his kill quota? Does he miss being able to eat food? Does he want to decorate his armor differently but his superiors won't let him? Does he want a sex change?

[Neece]

Cookies, the almighty motivator. Delgan's face when he saw they actually raise productivity enough to be a net positive must've been priceless
I hope he isn't contaminated, though

10960202
Careful with that last one, that path leads to Slaanesh and she's not seen with good eyes on those parts.
I'm sure the ponies can help in whichever it is though

[geomease]

I’m so Happy to see that Wind Chime achieved her dream of becoming a space pirate. Wonderbolt is a boring job anyway!

I honestly love the injection of ponies into kore chaos roles and administrative work and functions. Seeing their interactions was a real treat. Shame their first outting was marred by those pesky Tyanids.

Any chance we can get some Starship Troopers anti bug pony propaganda references int he next few chapters?

[Arzoo]

Love how that fight was put together at the end, and the little details like the techpriest's custom daemon gun. The ponies always make for interesting variety in the fights with their huge ranges of abilities, skills, and temperaments. The ponies continue to corrupt the Iron Warriors one cookie at a time.

Also loved Twilight implying she was up for a bit of petty vengeance on whatever the cult wanted if the opportunity presented itself. She DID seem to be taking the disastrous outcome pretty well. At least the Intel helped the fleet catch the cultists early in their infiltration attempts, or at least I assume that's how Delgan knew to make those inspections.

[BurningSkies]

10960129
I wouldn't be surprised if most other forces in the galaxy haven't even heard of what a therapist is lol

[BurningSkies]

10959833
I wonder if they have ones with Chaos marks drawn on them with icing!

[Booster Spice]

Would it be worth Twilight working on a spell form of the blood tests, that can be combined with scannners, shields even weapons, so they can make one way squishing fields for things like Genestealers etc?

[Sarraceno]

10960306
They already did... Dest did some a pair of books ago... cookies with chaos marks in icing

[Sarraceno]

A great surprise this chapter... i didn't expected another one so soon...

Sergeant Sparke is now a thing. Love it....
I love the overall development.... how fast they got into track after the confirmation of genestealer cult.... in the first books it would had been unthinkable to open a bloody path like that by the pones... they already crossed the line... and already know better

Claret is very interesting ans Wind Chime as lovely as always.... keep them coming!

[Sarraceno]

10960243
*wish to know more intensifies*

[madhatcat13]

........really?...No one has said anything about the wound on Delgan's back?Keep in mind people that we'er dealing with Genestealers here....even a small wound could mean BIG trouble.

[Sarraceno]

10960878
Yea, but there's already too much information, i guess we'll have to wait to next chapter

[Hey its that Pony]

10960878
You don't get infected by genestealers from a simple claw wound. They actually have to implant a small viral organ into you that rewrites your DNA. I think it's unlikely that Delgan got infected as the process usually knocks you out or heavily dazes for a bit as the hive mind assimilates you.

Delgan is pretty lucky to get away with just a scratch. Rending claws are no joke.

[SFaccountant]

10960230
10960878
Genestealers infect others through an implantation via an ovipositor. That's what the Genestealer was attempting to do to Chrysalis. It isn't something that can be done via a slashing attack.

10960048
It certainly could have gone worse! They don't typically screen for xeno corruption (especially with all the ones living on the ship now).

10960095
The Genestealer Cult was well-developed enough that several cultists were swept up by the Iron Warriors, as well as a shipping crate full of hibernating purestrains. It is unlikely this was by design, since the raid was unexpected and Genestealer Cults tend to have very long-term, carefully designed plans. They are quite adaptable, though

10960243
I'm not sure the crew need more convincing that the terrifying bug predators are bad, but I'll see what I can do.

10960915
Sometimes you roll a 1 to wound. It happens

[ABitterPill]

I do hope we see more of Doctor Claret Heartthrob. She could prove most interesting and amusing, particularly further actions with the Dark Mechanicus.

So why is Chrysalis sticking with Twilight so much? Honestly I'm now half starting to wonder if she's infatuated with Twilight for some reason. Her behavior is most odd. And no, I don't think it is merely a desire to have her warforms unlocked. It seems like something else is there also. What the heck is going on in that head of hers?

I wonder exactly what that artifact is? I wonder if they'll all get off of Ulaisse...

I wonder just how wide-spread this genestealer infestation really is, if it's on both Ulaisse and the planet.

Fantastic chapter. Thank you so much for the update!

[Easysnuggler]

10959833
I totally want chaos cookies now.

[Neece]

10961150
It's the dark, insidious power of Friendship. It creeps on you slowly, unsuspectingly, until BAM! You're going to birthday parties and jumping in front of danger without caring for your own well being while they do the same to you. Truly, the most dastardly of fates.

[Easysnuggler]

10960850
Omg you’re right!

[robot1840]

10961150
i think Chrysalis assumes that Twilight has acess to the killcodes, and that is why she is being so helpful

[madhatcat13]

10961002
Ah......sorry about that then.....my Warhammer lore can be a bit spotty at times.....still I enjoy this story very much and can't wait for the next chapter.

[Sarraceno]

10961511
even better... she's provoking Twilight to answer without noticing.
Chrysalys now knows for sure that Twilight can off her

[Hey its that Pony]

10962696
Even more, she knows that Twilight can off her but she needs a second or two to do it. Bug Queen is being sneaky with her info gathering.

[Sarraceno]

10962719
Indeed, she's notching up her spy game... like a boss

The real question is... to what end?

[verypeeved]

10959691
what a strange comment to dislike. i wonder who did that, and why. sadly, i doubt we will ever know.

[verypeeved]

10961002

They don't typically screen for xeno corruption

well, they didn't. after this mess, they very well might.

[SirAquila]

10960230

Careful with that last one, that path leads to Slaanesh and she's not seen with good eyes on those parts.
I'm sure the ponies can help in whichever it is though

How does a sex change lead to slaneesh? You can be be Grandfather Nurgles Granddaughter without dabbling in perversion? Or engage in wholesome khornate violence as a shield maiden.

[Der Kaiser]

10960717
ahh, the good 'ol magic is bullshit

[Sarraceno]

10962899
Full sex change? That doesn'tfall on Slaanesh "to-do" list
That kind of changes belongs to Tzeentch

[Neece]

10962899
10963078
You both raise valid points.

[Daralyn]

You do realize that the length of the chapters is almost apar with Fallout:Equestria, right?
I didn't checked closer, but I even think that the entire story so far may be similar size

[SFaccountant]

10967598
That's kind of what I'm going for here, yeah.

[Daralyn]

10968084
good luck with that

I love the series in any case, keep up the great job :-)

[SFaccountant]

10968335
Even if you can't reach the stars, you'll at least touch the sky, right?

[SFaccountant]

10960243
Man, I completely forgot about that filly from Book 3.
The Wind Chime in this chapter is actually the community organizer from Ferrous Dominus. I didn't mean to give them the same name
I've changed the filly's name in Book 3. She has quite a lot of growing to do before she can realize her dream of murdering Imperial heroes in the cold depths of space!

[geomease]

10974010

The warp did it