Salvation

by voroshilov

Supreme Devastation

Ferrus was a world of grey crags and small, rust-red seas. There was little beyond that, aside from scatterings of Dominion bases which became visible upon closer inspection. It was close enough to the Great Void to make it a target, but far enough a way as to allow for time to prepare.

Their landing at Ferrus was rushed and fraught with worry. The Warriors filed off of the Retaliator and what vessels still remained from Ultimus, immediately setting to work on the base Penumbra had chosen.

“Get everyone who isn’t part of the type-8 mutation off of the planet,” Penumbra ordered a gaggle of Warriors - constituted from three badly battered squads - “get everyone who is here, we need to be well fortified for when they inevitably come.”

“Ma’am, communications with Chronove have been established, but I don’t know for how long.”

Fortunately for the team, Penumbra had already come up with the message she wished to send. When the communication’s officer handed her the microphone, ready for transmit, she set straight to work.

“This is Sunless-Halo-of-Penumbra, commanding the planet Ferrus. We require immediate assistance, three large, stellar worms have emerged from the Great Void and are attacking Dominion planets. They are assisted by a cult from the Great Void who are capable of a form of mind-control. The Type-8 Warrior mutation is immune to this mind-control, we need immediate reinforcements of the type-8 mutation.”

She handed the microphone back. “Set the message to repeat,” she ordered, before immediately dashing off into the fortress’ command centre, where Ablazed Glory, Astrid, Cain, and the Glow Sisters were already based, along with a dozen or so Warriors who had manned consoles throughout the room.

“Worms inbound at zero point one C. Detecting no change in average course.”

“Continue scanning for other hostiles,” Ablazed Glory ordered, having fallen neatly into the role of commander, “we want as little getting through the atmosphere as possible.”

“I’ve sent for reinforcements,” Penumbra said, “more of the immune forms. With any luck, they’ll be here before the Worms arrive.”

Ablazed Glory sighed and nodded. “With any luck,” she repeated, punctuated by a curt chuckle.

One of the Warriors on the consoles immediately drew her attention. “Incoming,” they called out, “six dozen vessels, capital classifications. Eight dozen. Ten dozen. Hundreds of vessels just materialised above us.”

“Planetary defence systems are reporting transport class vessels entering the atmosphere,” another Warrior added, “planetary guns have downed three vessels. But we still have forty inbound.”

Something seemed to flash in Ablazed Glory’s mind. In a nigh-instant movement, she was before a console and entering commands as quickly as possible.

“Raise the shields,” she yelled out at whoever had the job of doing such, “get every planetary gun firing on the ships above us.”

Her gang of peons set to work at once. Within moments, a navy blue shimmer appeared outside of the command centre’s windows. Seconds later, a red fireball burst thirty or so metres from the ground, the shockwave of the explosion rippling outwards in progressive waves along the fortress’ shield.

“Good call,” Penumbra mumbled, calculating the trajectory of the projectile. Without the shield, she had no doubt, it would have impacted the command centre directly.

Ablazed Glory said nothing, her eyes locked solidly to her console.

“I sense hostiles approaching,” Astrid spoke up, her skin flush with blue and purple, “there is a powerful being with them, very powerful.”

Penumbra rubbed her temples with a claw. She growled and shook her head. “Why can’t things just be simple. Alright, Astrid, Cain, come with me, we’re going to the gate.”

The ragged band of Warriors had been mostly reconstituted. Squads - actual proper Dominion Maniples - garrisoned the many bunkers and fortifications that commanded control over the base’s main gate. All looked as ready for battle as any fresh, veteran Dominion unit.

“Incoming transports!” The sergeants chorused, their troopers reacting with a sudden tensing.

Battle, Penumbra thought, a proper, defensive battle. Albeit under not so fantastic circumstances.

From over the horizon erupted an immense dust cloud. The transports - barely visible specks of black and grey - travelled mere feet from the group, kicking up material as high as miles.

They mean to fight us blind, Penumbra thought, clever - but they haven’t counted on something.

“Astrid,” Penumbra said, “can you do telekinesis?”

The Archon nodded immediately. “Of course, why?”

“If you can move objects, you can move air. Correct?”

“Yes?”

“I need you to help me make a whirlwind and keep that coming cloud from covering the gate.”

Penumbra’s line of thought momentarily confused the Archon, though it wasn’t long before she caught up. She nodded slowly, the alicorn’s reasoning was certainly sound - but that didn’t necessarily mean her idea was possible.

“Give me a spot.”

They formed up just beyond the gate’s precipice, but still within the protective shield. Magic could pass the barrier - Penumbra correctly ascertained - so the plan should be unaffected by it.

Haloed by flashes of incoming ordnance and soundtracked by thunderous explosions, they set about their task. In unison, they began to spin the air. Telekinesis was an easy and untaxing spell - to the both of them - so its usage on such a large scale was mostly undifficult. Regardless, it took some effort to get to a point Penumbra was happy with.

That point came when a great vortex roared to life, funnelling dregs of dust from around the base into itself.

That’ll do, Penumbra thought, just keep this running now and we can clear the storm when it arrives.

Arrive it did.

Moments after the first of the transports made its landing some three hundred metres from the base’s shield, the dust cloud swept in. The vortex captured the dust that would have obscured the enemy landings from the gate, allowing the Warriors garrisoning it to pick their targets and prepare. Communications ran back and forth from the headquarters at a rapid rate. Penumbra was informed by a Warrior that the shield would retreat in two minutes - allowing the Warriors to engage through the open gate. Both Penumbra and Astrid made a slow and steady retreat, maintaining their vortex as the dust cloud began to thin out.

The shield’s retreat was almost unnoticeable. One moment, the land beyond shimmered very slightly with a blue tinge, then the next it was completely open - all the muted grey of the land reappeared, populated by cult forces.

“Engage!”

From up above, a pulse gun roared. The sound was unchanged from the War in Heaven: a piercing whine, but loud enough to pierce the eardrums of anyone standing too close. The grey crags beyond became orange - or burned black - and quickly became covered in the corpses of the cultist soldiers, rather than their living members.

It was going exactly how Penumbra had hoped it would go. The cult forces were being torn apart the moment they left their transports. And yet, she still felt like she was on the backfoot.

A flash of light, followed by an echoing boom, informed her as to why she felt so. This is a siege, she thought, not a pitched battle. It doesn’t matter how many troops they send at us, so long as they have enough to keep us locked in. They’ll keep firing until we break.

She cast her mind back through her memories. Have I ever broken? Equestria, the War in Heaven, The Great Light, Kaurava - many trials. Yet not once had I broken, I do not believe. Knocked down? Yes, but I always got back up. Let’s add Ferrus to the list of trials I succeeded.

“Extend the shield,” she yelled out, “trap them outside again.”

Her order was called up the line, Warriors echoing it until it reached the inside of the command centre. Mere minutes later, the blue shimmer extended again, locking cult forces without, and Dominion within.

To survive a siege: one must maintain will.

Half of Ferrus’ fortresses remained garrisoned, the Dominion troops all well adapted to siege training. But, then again, no amount of training could prepare one for the real thing.

The cultist force was led by a strange individual: apparently he bore at least some free thought. He had named himself Supreme Devastation - a name Ablazed Glory had smirked at before returning her face to a stoney expression of hardiness - and had been notable for his liberal use of the microphone.

“Hear me,” he had yelled, mouth far too close to the transmitter, “I am Supreme Devastation, who will be the architect of your destruction. Come out of your caves and join us, or die with honour!”

The message wouldn’t have been more than a footnote, had Supreme Devastation not ordered it to repeat - constantly - forever.

Ablazed Glory and a pair of technicians had to rewire the short-range receiver to silence him, instead hooking up a system whereby every speaker in the fortress played Dominion marching tunes.

“Comrades, look forwards
Our journey, it continues!
See our flag, fluttering in the wind,
As we march on down the road.

Soldiers, in step!
When we go back,
Up the road to our homes,
They will cheer for us: hurrah!

Our land, do not feel threatened,
By a foe in black or white,
As you see our flag, fluttering in the wind,
Fear not for your soldiers come!

Soldiers, in step!
When we go back,
Up the road to our homes,
They will cheer for us: hurrah!
They will cheer for us: hurrah!
They will cheer for us: hurrah!
Comrades, forwards!”

Penumbra found herself humming them occasionally. Whether or not it was captivity syndrome affecting her, she couldn’t tell, but anything that lifted the spirits was good.

Speakers at the base’s outskirts also blared Dominion military songs, though ones with a more militant and patriotic flair.

She wondered, as she carried out her hourly march along the bottom of the wall, if the cultists had morale that could be affected. Did they feel fear? Or, perhaps, Supreme Devastation felt fear and was holding off deploying his forces.

Her own forces had been surprisingly well kept over the past week. Though Penumbra had not slept - her eyes slowly beginning to show it - most of the Dominion Warriors had managed to keep themselves fighting fit and healthy. As she walked, she sighted a pair of Warriors, crouched under an outcropping of the wall, playing a card game.

“3rd Justice,” one of them said, casting his four cards onto the ground triumphantly.

Their comrade chuckled, throwing down a card of their own. “5th Dreams. And, victory is mine.”

The first Warrior groaned. “What the hell, come on give me a chance.”

“Not my fault I’m just so good.”

Penumbra smiled. Even through it all, they stood strong.

“Penumbra,” Ablazed Glory’s voice appeared through her helmet, “we need you back at the command centre, right now.”

Ablazed Glory had been acting as a veteran, unphased, military commander since their arrival on Ferrus. Yet, her voice had been cracked - apparently genuinely fearful. There had been little background noise from the command centre either, like she was used to.

After dashing back, she had been confronted by Astrid, who advised her before entering the war room.

“Do not startle her, I believe stress has gotten to her.”

Penumbra nodded. “Anything I can expect?”

“You may have to make her talk slowly - clearly too.”

Entering the war room, she came literally face to face with a ragged looking Ablazed Glory. Her eyes were sunken and grey and the fire that completely covered her was dark and relatively weak.

“They got in,” she told Penumbra, in a strange amalgamation of mumbling and shouting. “They got in, they got in.”

“Who got in? Where?”

“They got into.” Ablazed Glory paused mid-sentence. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Glory, what’s going on?”

Ablazed Glory kept confusedly swearing, “fucking fuck fuck they got fuck in fucking fuck.”

Penumbra blinked.

“Glory,” she started, before immediately being interrupted.

“In fuck. Ah, ahh.” Ablazed Glory’s rambling just became screaming - though the inflection of her voice suggested she wasn’t quite sure what she was screaming at.

One week without sleep, Penumbra thought, so this is the kind of thing it would do.

“Ablazed Glory,” she said, using magical voice augmentation, “stand ready!”

Ablazed Glory immediately silenced and snapped to attention on compulsion.

“What has happened?”

“The cult broke through all but one of the shielded northern fortresses,” she said, “only a few soldiers got out.”

Oh, Penumbra thought, so that’s why she was so catatonic.

Astrid caught her as she fell, the Archon’s presence bringing her back to the aware world. Her left eye was firmly closed and refused to open and her right was not far behind.

Ah well, she thought, I need a nap.