Nightwatch: The Elements of Destruction

by SFaccountant

Dark Ditch

Nightwatch – The Elements of Destruction
By SFaccountant

Chapter 3
Dark Ditch

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Badlands
Geolocation redacted

“So that’s the plan. The first part of the plan, anyway. The Orks have seismic pylons they looted while the DarkMech was prospecting here, and they have the data we need on what the local deep cave network looks like. Assuming the Orks haven’t completely torn them apart for extra armor plates or something.” Dusk explained, standing in front of a holo-screen map of the badlands. “Of course, we’re going in dark, literally and figuratively. We don’t have any good recon in this area.”

“And the mission to GET reconnaissance on the area is the one you’re skipping so we can get to this secret other objective,” Gear Works mentioned from the other side of the holo.

“Yeah. Well, kind of. We ARE getting data on the region, so really you can think of it as an extension of the original mission.” Dusk paused briefly, and then coughed into a hoof. “By the way, Gears: you are not to transmit any of the data we gather on the Orks’ location or the recovered subterranean mapping to anyone outside Dagger Squad. Not until I allow it, anyway.”

“That is against operational protocol,” Gear Works said, his sensor lights narrowing.

“Your mom is against operational protocol,” Nacht interjected. She was laying against Penumbra Shard’s side, and the unicorn snort-laughed at the comment.

“Nacht, quit it,” Dusk snapped.

“What? I’m not allowed to rib the nerd a little bit?”

“Not if that’s the best you can do, no. 2 out of 10. If you’re going to bully our support, at least be clever about it. You’re embarrassing me.”

The Valkyrie shuddered as it encountered turbulence, and the pitch of the engines changed while it adjusted its speed. Each bat pony perked and swiveled their ears, instinctively trying to collect information on their surroundings by the changing noise.

A vox link spat a burst of static, and then Zariyah’s voice came through the console. “The winch is rattling an awful lot out here! Are we nearing drop zone?”

“No Backfire, just some turbulence. Sit tight,” Dusk ordered. “We still have a little while.”

“I still do not understand why we cannot make normal landing!” the Strider pilot complained. “It is in dead of night and the green filth have no idea we approach! Would take at most two minutes!”

“You’d be surprised by how much ground a bored Ork patrol or scavenger team can cover in two minutes when they hear a gunship descending in the distance. These tubs make a LOT of noise,” Dusk replied, his voice grim.

“Yeah, and baticorns can fly and probably hear as well as we can!” Nacht added, twitching her ears. “Maybe even better! It’s really dangerous to make too much noise!”

“Baticorn? Why are you talking about baticorns?” the Strider pilot asked. “I thought that was a silly rumor! Why would there be bat pony alicorn, and why would such a creature want to harm us?”

“No idea, Backfire! Just ignore Nacht, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Dusk said, glaring hard at the smaller thestral. “I know this isn’t the kind of deployment you’re used to, but we’ll get you on the ground soon enough.”

“So as long as we’ve got a few minutes, you want to tell us your story, metalhead?” Gloom Fang asked, staring suspiciously at Gear Works. “Did you cut off your legs as a sacrifice to the Machine God or what? How does a pony become a Techpriest?”

“He’s just an Acolyte,” Neuron Dialect interjected before Gears could. She promptly fell silent again, her eyes hidden under the rim of her hood.

“Miss Dialect is correct, of course,” Gears said with a nod, “but that aside I feel like we shouldn’t breeze past the Lieutenant insisting I withhold mission data from the 38th Company.”

“Okay, then let’s address it head-on,” Gloom agreed. “You’re going to do exactly what he says, and you’re not going to bring up ‘protocol’ again. How’s that sound?”

Gears’ optical lights blinked off and on again. “That does not sound viable. I am not under Lunar Guard command, but am assisting your mission on orders from my own division. Protocol is the reason I’m here. Of course I’m not going to abandon it at your request.”

Dusk just groaned, but the other bat ponies clearly didn’t like that answer. Nacht stood up, a dangerous look in her eyes, Neuron lifted her gun upright with her wing, and Gloom made an intense growling noise that Gears had never heard from a pony before.

“You’re new here, friend. It’s understandable. But in the Lunar Guard we do things a bit differently.” Penumbra Shard interrupted, her voice smooth as silk.

The thestrals hesitated at her voice, and she made a brief gesture with her hoof. They all relaxed immediately, but had their disdainful eyes fixed on Gear Works. Dusk bristled, but he didn’t interrupt as the Moon Mage continued.

“Out here, in the battlefield under the gleaming stars, the bonds of harmony and friendship don’t amount to much,” she said tenderly, like a mother giving a sensitive lesson to a colt. “And silly rules made up by lazy apes sleeping peacefully while we’re dropped into a warzone account for much less. Follow our leader, young Acolyte, and you may yet see the dawn. Your protocols and machines will not protect you here.”

Gear Works blinked again, his ears slowly pinning back against his head. “… Why are you speaking as if we’re not being carried into the warzone by one of those very machines, guided by a human pilot? You know he can hear all of this, right?”

The thestrals suddenly looked alarmed, but Penumbra snickered into a hoof. “Oh, my dear little Acolyte… you don’t really… really think that… um…” her smile twitched slightly, and beads of sweat started appearing on her forehead. “… You’re being serious? He really heard everything we’ve said?”

“He did. As did I,” Zariyah’s voice volunteered over the vox. “You know I am also in human machine that will be protecting you, yes? What are you going on about?”

“Wh-What?! How?!” Gloom yelped, visibly nervous now. “Everyone’s been listening in on us?! Can they do this all the time? How do we turn it off?!”

Gears silently levered his servo arm toward the console generating the hololith map and flicked off a switch. A few lumens on the console switched from green to red. Dusk sighed deeply, scooted over next to Gear Works, and then placed a hoof on his shoulder.

“So, one of the important things you have to know about the Lunar Guard is that, generally speaking, we are NOT smart,” he admitted in a regretful tone. “We do our best to hide it by being grim and mysterious, but my entire unit is rock stupid. Darkwind has been here for months but she still gets nervous around automatic doors because she thinks there are little creatures in the walls opening them for us. Mist Breaker is functionally illiterate. Silver Sting is pretty clever in some ways but she cannot do any math more complex than subtraction. Seriously, if you say the word ‘percent’ she starts hissing like an angry cat.”

Nacht pouted and Gloom winced. Neuron found something intensely interesting to stare at on the hull of the Valkyrie. Penumbra coughed into a hoof, rebuilding her earlier demeanor of amused confidence.

“The Lieutenant exaggerates, of course,” the Moon Mage chuckled. “Most thestrals were considered outcast until several years ago and grew up in caverns scrounging for food every day. It’s understandable that they have a less… erudite outlook than those ponies who walk in the sunlight.”

“The Moon Mages are pretty stupid too,” Dusk assured Gears.

“WHAT?!” Penumbra jumped upright, a furious scowl on her face. “I’m not going to be called stupid by somepony like you! You spent your life up until now hunting roaches in the depths for food and stealing scraps from farmhouses! I went to university!”

“You didn’t graduate, though,” Dusk countered.

“I would have if my professor hadn’t died!”

“Sure. And whose fault is that?”

Penumbra and Dusk locked eyes, growling at each other, and Nacht made a whimpering sound. The other thestrals looked around at the gunship interior, like they were suddenly deeply fascinated by the levers and cables. Gear Works looked increasingly distressed as well, his optical lights tilting toward an outward slant.

“ANYWAY,” Penumbra Shard huffed, suddenly breaking eye contact and dropping back down next to Nacht, “the skills of my thestral siblings may differ from that of our ‘enlightened’ brethren, but they are not lesser. It hardly needs to be said that Equestrian society has found ample use for ponies who hunt their prey at night. We each have our own talent and part to play and the group becomes stronger for it. And THAT is more important than petty protocols and tedious doctrines.”

“… I want to know whose fault it is that your professor died,” Gears replied, his ears pinning back. “Was it you? Is that why you were unable to graduate?”

The vox suddenly crackled, much to the unicorn’s relief. “We’re coming up on the deployment area, Dagger Squad. Prepare for drop. Remember that we’ll be comms dark out here until you reach the waypoint alpha. If you turn on a distress signum the only thing to pick it up out there are the Orks and the Strider squadrons, and the Orks will probably get there first.”

“Yeah, I think we know better than to expect the evil Chaos space pirates to launch a rescue mission for us, but thanks,” Nacht replied.

“Of course. May the dark gods guide your fire and the blood of the greenskins flow like rivers,” the pilot continued.

“Yeah, great, guiding rivers, cool,” Gloom Fang said, leaning toward the vox caster. “Hey, quick question: do you guys ALWAYS listen in on your passengers’ conversations?”

“Yes,” the pilot replied breezily. “Disengaging the ramp in T-minus thirty! Watch out for baticorns down there!” Another static burst came from the vox unit before the connection was finally cut.

“Nacht, I swear to the stars…” Dusk growled.

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” she wailed. “I didn’t know the vox was on!”

“Shard, metalhead, you got your grav chutes?” Gloom Fang asked.

“Affirmative,” Gears replied, poking his servo arm at the plasteel boxes strapped to both sides of his body. “I’m slightly concerned about the lack of thrusters on this unit, however. It’s generally considered an important feature of the device.”

“Yeah, and having wings is generally considered an important feature of aerial drops too but we’re improvising tonight I guess,” Nacht shrugged.

A clunking noise came from rear ramp, and a series of vent hatches opened up to steadily depressurize the transport bay. Then the rear ramp dropped open and the bay lumens went out. Gears was barely affected by the change in pressure and visibility given his mask and optical veil, but the thought of leaping out the gunship in mid-flight still made the remnants of his stomach turn.

“SEE YA ON THE GROUND, NERDS!!” Nacht bellowed, suddenly sprinting out the back and leaping into the air with a whoop.

Penumbra laughed and raced after her, showing admirable enthusiasm for a pony without wings. She leapt out into the sky and promptly dropped out of sight. A brief magical glow pulsed from below a second later.

Neuron Dialect trotted out to the embarkation ramp without a fuss, stopping at the edge and then dropping down after the others. A loud clunk came from below a second later, suggesting that the Strider had been released. It too carried a grav chute for the drop, although the Strider’s size was very near the upper bounds of what the device could safely deliver.

“Gears? You want me to jump with you?” Dusk offered, poking a hoof toward the ramp.

“Uh, well… I suppo-“ Gears was suddenly shoved from behind, and he yelped in terror as he stumbled toward the exit.

“Down we go! No turning back now, dweeb!” Gloom Fang laughed, jumping forward and planting a hoof on Gear’s back.

“Gloomy! Wait, don’t-“ Dusk shouted, jumping forward himself a little too late.

Gear Works squeaked in fright as Gloom Fang shoved him down the ramp. Unsurprisingly, the biggest pony in the group was also quite strong, easily launching Gears off into the air while also leaping out himself. Dusk scrambled after them, bolting out of the transport bay and into the night sky right before the Valkyrie gunship started to bank for a turn.

Gears, naturally, plummeted like a rock, flailing his hooves in a panic while a whimpered string of Binaric cant from his mask. His servo arm, rattling dangerously among the robes flapping in the wind, clamped down on the sides of the grav-chute. A second later it activated, and both boxes lit up with a strange yellowish glow as they started to slow his descent.

“GLOOMY!!” Dusk barked, promptly spotting the other thestral stallion with the shout. “What the fang was that?! Are you trying to get somepony killed?!”

Gloom was descending with the other bat ponies, and he seemed startled to be yelled at. Below the other members of Dagger Squadron Penumbra was slowly floating down to the ground, kicking her feet lazily like she was swimming. Her grav-chute was thrumming away, rendering her effective weight feather-like, but the Moon Mage surely could have arrested her descent through her magic anyway.

“What’s the problem? He’s fine!” Gloom Fang protested, pointing a hoof down at the pony in question.

Gear Works was upside-down and making very unhealthy wheezing noises, but at a glance it appeared that Gloom Fang was right. The grav-chute was active and the Dark Acolyte was visibly slowing in his fall. Dusk narrowed his eyes and turned back to his subordinate.

“Don’t ‘what’ me! You know EXACTLY what you did wrong!” Dusk barked angrily. “This isn’t the Nightwatch locker room, idiot! We’re on a mission here! No hazing or ‘kidding around’ that involves pushing our support into potentially lethal falls!”

“I really don’t see what the big deal is,” Gloom replied with a snort. “He was going to have to jump eventually, right? Who cares if I did it for him rather than you goading him like a foal?”

Gear Works, unable to control his path of descent in any meaningful way, struck the top of the Strider on his way down, yelping in surprise. Thanks to the grav-chute the impact didn’t hurt very badly, but one of the pieces of the device struck a protruding hook used for carrying cargo and soldiers. The plasteel box was torn off, and Gear Works went spiraling away into the darkness at a much faster pace.

“No big deal?! You think it’s FUNNY to terrorize our Techpriest support?! You think it won’t matter whether he trusts us when we’re on mission and we need his help?!” Dusk shouted.

“I do believe both those things, yeah. You don’t?” Gloom asked.

“I also agree it’s pretty funny but you have a point about us needing to work with him,” Nacht admitted, “I vote for not picking on the Nerdpriest anymore.”

“It’s not a VOTE! I’m giving you orders!” Dusk shouted. “Leave our Techpriest alone!”

“He’s just a Dark Acolyte,” Neuron Dialect reminded him, “and I think half of his grav-chute broke.”

“What?!” Dusk whirled around in the air.

“You keep calling him a Dark Techpriest but that-”

“NOT THAT! WHERE IS HE?! WHAT HAPPENED?!” Dusk shouted, searching for the glow of the grav-chutes among the darkness.

His echolocation only detected the ponies hovering nearby and the Strider below; apparently Gears had descended or strayed too far for him to pick up that way. Once he spotted the dim yellow blob in the distance, Dusk pulled his wings closed and dove downward without another word. The other thestrals quickly moved to follow him, while Penumbra just kissed her hoof and waved.

“See you at the bottom, sweeties!” the Moon Mage chirped, not obviously distressed by the sudden emergency.

Dusk Blade growled as the wind whipped through his mane and tail, focusing everything on the distant light. As he understood it the grav-chute would still work well enough with one unit to let a pony survive the landing, but it would dramatically affect the angle of descent, scattering him far from the intended drop zone. This would be bad enough on a drop in broad daylight, to a staging area far from the enemy, but at night during an insertion directly into Ork-held territory it was much, much worse.

“I can’t see him! Does anypony see him?!” Dusk shouted as the light seemed to fade away.

“He landed,” Neuron replied, her voice barely loud enough to hear over the rush of air surrounding them. “… Or crashed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong right away?!” the Lieutenant demanded.

“You were busy yelling at us. If I interrupted you would have been mad,” she replied.

“WELL I’M PRETTY MAD NOW, NEURO!!”

Dusk sensed the ground was approaching fast, and he flipped backward and spread his wings, rapidly shifting into a glide. The other bat ponies did the same, their training taking over. They mapped out the terrain from the reflected noise of Dusk’s shouting, identifying the scattered objects below and finding the best potential cover and most likely vector for an enemy interception.

Gloom Fang shrieked, his voice aimed at a particular outcropping and resonating in a signal that stood out like a beacon to the other thestrals. Nacht and Neuron immediately adjusted their glide paths, following the stallion to the landing zone he had picked out. Dusk Blade ignored it, flapping his wings to gain altitude and turning on his night vision optics.

A vast web of large wooden vines stretched over the ground from a series of pits, like tentacles reaching out from an aquatic den under the sea. Big splinter-like needles, each of them as long as a bayonet blade and looking nearly as sharp at the tip, decorated the network, creating a deadly-looking carpet. Surely the vines protected more than one nest of nasty wasteland animals as well as being a serious hazard on its own, and Dusk’s panic increased as he flew over it.

“GEARS!! GEARS, WHERE ARE YOU?!” he shouted, his eyes and ears searching for any signs of ruptured spikes or scattered mechanical parts.

Suddenly he found it: a pincer claw sticking up out of the treacherous, curling roots. Dusk swooped down on the location, alighting on one of the spikes and stooping over the claw.

“Gears! Gears, speak to me!” Dusk begged.

“… I am not well,” the Dark Acolyte replied weakly.

It was hard to tell through the low-light optics and echolocation whether there was blood splashed on the vines below, but it would have been truly remarkable for the tech-cultist to have landed without cutting himself to some extent. Currently Gear Works was laying crosswise on a vine, with his servo arm clamped onto a spine jutting out above him. Below him, in the underbelly of the thorn patch, Dusk sensed something moving.

“Okay, look, can you hold that position? If I go get Shard I’m pretty sure she can levitate you out,” Dusk offered.

A crack came from the spike held by the servo arm. A loud creak came from the vine under Gear Works. A strangled whimper came from the Dark Acolyte.

“That sounded like a ‘no’ to me, so plan B is for me to scream for the others to get…” Dusk trailed off, his ears twitching and pivoting about. “Oh you have GOT to be kidding me!”

The rumble of an overcharged engine rolled over the hills, and Dusk soon spotted the high-beams from an Ork Trukk zipping across the hard-packed ground. It was still some distance away and Dusk had no reason to think that they had heard him calling for Gears, so he had to assume they had seen the glow of the grav-chutes in the air. The vehicle was racing along the empty flats around the vine cluster, and as far as he could tell there was no plausible entry point for such a vehicle.

“Okay, we have Orks. Not a huge surprise. Maybe they’ll just-” Dusk was promptly interrupted by the sound of machine gun fire coming from the incoming vehicle. “Fine, no shouting for help. Shouting would be bad. Plan C it is.”

“What is plan C?” Gear Works gasped.

“Still working on it,” Dusk admitted.

The Trukk revved its engine louder, speeding up and edging closer to one of the larger thorn-covered roots lying beside its path. Its big shoota blazed away in uneven bursts, cutting jagged tears into the enormous vines.

“They’re not shooting at us, right?” Gears whimpered while he tried in vain to climb up higher.

“Yeah, that’s right. They haven’t located us yet,” Dusk whispered back. He jumped onto the vine above Gear Works and grabbed onto his servo arm as best he could. “Everything’s gonna be okay, buddy. They can’t find-”

A peal of deep, guttural laughter came from the passing Trukk, and then a pair of burnabomms were hurled from the passenger cab onto the strange roots. The charges exploded on impact, blooming into bright clouds of flame that clung to the dry wood of the vines and quickly began to spread. Dusk’s ears pinned back and he resisted the urge to scream.

“Okay, I know what plan C is now.”

“Wh-What?”

“I’m going to try to soften your drop to the ground. When you’re on your hooves again, we’re cutting East. Do NOT stop, even if you see something dangerous in front of you. Copy?”

“Machine God preserve me,” Gear Works gasped, doing a quick check on the height of the fall. Five meters. Quite survivable. “On your mark, Lieutenant.”

Another burst of machine gun fire boomed through the night, and Dusk took a deep breath. “All right: Three. Two. ONE!”

The servo arm released the spine and Gears slipped down the side of the root, releasing himself to the merciless grip of gravity. Dusk kept his grip on the mechanical pincer and kicked off the vine, plummeting along with him. His wings beat desperately, slowing their fall, and then Dusk let go a second before Gears reached the ground.

Gear Works grunted at the impact, but the sound was lost among a series of thick, disturbing crunching noises. His optics could see dozens of crawling and slithering things bolt away from him in the darkness, but he ignored them as best he could and surged upright. Pain bloomed in his rear leg (the organic one, naturally), but in the panic of the moment he couldn’t tell if he had been bitten by something or just cut himself on a rock during the fall.

“This way! Come on!” Dusk shouted, skimming over the ground ahead of the cyborg. His voice rendered the path ahead for his echolocation, marking out low-hanging spines and muffled areas that were probably wrapped in webbing.

A serpent with a body thicker than his leg rose from the darkness, its eyes glinting. Dusk doubled his speed, charging straight forward with an ear-rending shriek. He twisted into a corkscrew turn, and the blades on his hooves lashed out and sliced a serious gash through the creature’s scaly hide.

“AAAAAAAAAAAH!!” Gears charged through after the thestral, howling in terror the entire time. The serpent, already reeling from getting slashed, released a sharp hiss of pain as its tail was trampled.

“You jerks! What was that for?!” it cried, whimpering and slithering away into the shadows.

“Oh, hey, some of these things can talk. Interesting,” Dusk mumbled before punching his hoofblades into a needlessly large spider and ripping open both the arachnid and the sheet of webbing behind it. “We’ve got a tunnel up ahead! Keep moving!” Forced under an especially low cluster of spines, Dusk finally landed in a run, his wings spread but held low.

Gears finally ceased wailing long enough to check where they were going, his optic lights expanding to take in as much light as possible. Unlike Dusk he could rely on complex night vision rather than sonar, and his more detailed view of the entrance let him see that the debris piled around it were mostly large bones. The Dark Acolyte didn’t have a greatest sense of wilderness survival, but as his gaze wandered over a skull that definitely looked equine in form he was able to draw a few logical inferences.

“Lieutenant, I believe that’s a large predator’s nest!”

“Probably, yeah!” Dusk swatted some kind of spiny-shelled beetle out of the air with his wing. “That’s good! None of these little creeps will follow us in there!”

“And the predator?”

“You let ME handle it! Nothing in here is scarier than the fire spreading on top of this place or the Orks shooting up everything that moves and a bunch of stuff that doesn’t!” Dusk insisted, racing into the tunnel without hesitation.

Gears wasn’t quite so confident, but the reasoning made sense and he was anyway inclined to trust Dusk’s experience. He tucked his servo arm closer to his body and charged after the thestral with a brief, anxious groan, breaking a skull under his bionic hoof in the process.

The tunnel was cramped, but the space was blessedly free of spines, webbing, and other creatures. It wound up and down and from side to side in seemingly random patterns, although Gears assumed the paths shifted to avoid rocks and large roots. Every once in a while there was another tunnel that crossed through to form an intersection, but other than slowing to check for anything waiting in ambush Dusk ignored the potential detours.

“We don’t have a lot of time before the fire above starts sucking all the oxygen out of here,” Dusk informed him. “You’d probably handle that pretty well, but my mask just filters air, it doesn’t provide any. This should take us to the edge of this vine patch or whatever it is, and then we can sneak out while the Orks are shooting at nothing.”

“Why would you assume this tunnel has an exit outside this vine growth? Your echolocation can extend that far?”

“No, but those skulls at the entrance weren’t from creatures that live down here,” the bat stallion explained. “So it’s definitely getting food from somewhere topside, and therefore it needs an access point!”

“I see! And we’re still generally unconcerned with what or where this beast is?”

“Not totally! But it’s definitely low-priority!” Dusk replied. “Since we’re on the subject: stay sharp! It might show up to defend its egg cache!”

“What egg cache?” Gears asked, right before Dusk stopped ahead of him. “Oh.”

Sure enough, the tunnel widened into a large round chamber, and scattered within that chamber were numerous eggs. Each one was the size of a pony’s head and was half-buried in the dirt, creating an awkward obstacle course before the next section of the tunnel. Dusk jumped into the air and simply flew over all of them, but Gears started picking his way across carefully so as not to step on any of the eggs.

“What are you doing?” Dusk demanded, looking back over his shoulder. “C’mon, just charge through! We don’t have time for this!”

“I’m not going to just trample a nest belonging to some unseen apex predator!” Gears hissed back, still stepping between the (presumably) fragile orbs.

“Gears, everything down here is going to be broiled alive soon and whatever laid these things obviously isn’t here to get mad about it!” the thestral retorted. “Let’s just… wait. Did you hear that?”

Gear Works froze, his front right hoof quivering just inches from the ground. He didn’t hear anything, in fact, but was well aware that bat ponies’ ears were far more sensitive than his. Sweating fearfully, his optics sensors spread out, analyzing the surrounding chamber for any hints of movement.

A bit of dirt fell from the tunnel’s ceiling onto Dusk Blade’s head, and his ear flicked it away. “It… kinda sounds like-“

The wall of the tunnel suddenly burst open, and Gears released a squeal of fright as Dusk vanished behind a mass of rapidly moving scales. It happened so fast that he didn’t realize what he was looking at until the body moving across the width of the tunnel tapered to a claw-tipped tail and then disappeared into the newly burrowed hole. The sound of rapidly churning earth faded away, leaving only a few bits of crumbling dirt dropping from the ceiling tunnel in its wake.

Gear Works didn’t dare to speak as he crossed the rest of the nesting chamber, being even more careful than before not to step on the eggs. Once he reached the compromised tunnel, he stopped and slowly leaned forward into the freshly-dug tunnel intersection, peering into the earthen tube where his “friend” had been carried into.

“… Lieutenant? Was… Was that a giant rockwurm? … Hello?” Gears said, his voice a trembling croak. He felt numb at the prospect that Dusk had been killed and eaten in front of him, and the wider implications were rapidly sorting themselves out in his thoughts beneath the sense of horror, sorrow, and panic.

Perhaps he could find his way out on his own, but could he really evade the Orks without a stealth and combat specialist to lead the way? What would happen when he found the rest of Dagger Squadron and informed them that their commander had perished trying to rescue him? Assuming they didn’t tear his throat out, was the mission even possible without Dusk? What if the burrowing monster came back for the other intruder?

“Lieutenant…” Gears whimpered again.

“You’re still here! Good!” Dusk said from behind him.

Gears screamed, jolting in surprise and nearly tripping into the tunnel he had been staring into. “Wh-What?! How did you-“

“I stabbed it in the tongue. It’s real mad now, so we should probably keep moving,” Dusk said, giving the Dark Acolyte a gentle shove in the direction they had been traveling.

“But even if you-“ Gear Works started to protest, only to receive another, less gentle shove.

“Gears, you don’t need to believe me about how I escaped but you DO need to believe me about the critter being mad and not dead! Let’s GO!” the thestral barked.

This argument was convincing enough that Gear Works bolted, moving into a gallop as quickly as he could. Dusk was right behind him, his ears straining to pick up the sound of shifting dirt. The bat pony soldier had been caught badly off-guard, unaware of how quickly something that large could dig through solid ground and how odd its approach sounded to his senses. He wouldn’t let it surprise him again.

Gears twisted his head enough so that a peripheral sensor could see the other stallion, and he did a minor scan as they made their escape. Dusk’s armor was scored and cracked in several places, but not fully penetrated. He was also damp with some kind of acidic slime; not strong enough to be a threat to his armor or equipment, but hopefully he hadn’t gotten any in his eyes.

Dusk Blade had definitely been bitten, and probably even swallowed by that rockwurm. He had probably stabbed it in the tongue to get out like he said, if only because Gears couldn’t imagine a more likely way he could have gotten free. But how had he escaped the monster and returned so quickly without using the tunnel he had been carried off into?

Gear Works supposed it didn’t really matter. The Lieutenant had survived and most of his fears about proceeding alone were put to rest. Not all of them, of course, given that the burrowing predator was still alive, very upset, and almost certainly hungry after its previous meal managed to flee.

“Below! It’s coming from below!” Dusk shouted suddenly.

Gear Works wailed in terror, mostly for lack of any other options. Dusk jumped toward him and spun around in the air, landing his back hooves on Gear’s flank. Then he kicked as hard as he could, hurling the cyborg stallion ahead while launching himself in the opposite direction.

The ground between the ponies burst upward in that split second, and a trio of jaw parts snapped closed on nothing. Dusk back-flipped and landed on his hooves, releasing a brief, loud shriek to seize the creature’s attention. The giant rockwurm’s neck bent to face the bat pony, and its tripartite mouth yawned open.

“Not this time, freak!” Dusk shouted, firing his splinter rifle into the beast’s open mouth.

A dozen toxic crystal shards sunk into the exposed flesh of the wurm’s inner mouth, setting its nerves alight with agony. It shut its jaws and recoiled, releasing a quivering groan from its enormous throat. Dusk fired another burst at its body, but only one or two splinters managed to penetrate its tough, mud-caked hide.

A strange noise came from the other side of the rockwurm, like a spearhead punching into the side of a tree. The monster groaned again and began to sink back into its emergence hole, evidently pushed into retreat. Its massive tube body twisted back and forth, loosening the ground around and beneath its body, and then the giant wurm slipped back into its hole.

“Hah! Not so tough when I know you’re coming!” Dusk taunted, darting over the new pit in the floor.

He was about to yell at Gears to get up and run, but stopped and stared instead. Gear Works was already standing and gasping heavily through his respirator, trying to get a grip on his panic. His tail was held aloft, quivering in the air and curled sharply around his right flank to point forward. The dataspike at the end had blood on it.

“Hot dang, pony! Did you actually STAB that thing?” Dusk asked.

“Y… Yes? Was… that wrong?” Gears asked hesitantly.

“No! No, it was very right! Just kind of out of character for you,” the other stallion explain before rushing ahead down the tunnel.

“Well I HAVE been in combat situations before, much to my chagrin,” Gears grumbled, his demeanor returning to a state somewhat closer to normal.

“Yeah, no, I get it! Way to go, bud!” Dusk Blade cheered. “I know you have more guts than you let on, but it’s still kind of surprising each time it shows. Any Ork that gets too close to you is gonna lose an eye! Ha!”

Gear Works grimaced, his tail rubbing the spike against his robe and twisting in an effort to clean it off. “The dataspike is a weapon of desperation, Lieutenant. This is not its primary function, and damaging the tip WILL degrade its utility when interfacing with proper machines. A function I believe we require to complete your mission.”

“Right! Yes! Excellent point! You have our priorities straight!” Dusk agreed. “The exit’s just a little farther, around the next bend! We’re almost back in action!”

Dusk Blade rounded the corner, and sure enough there was a hole framed by giant bramble thorns up ahead. He whooped for joy, creating another pulse of sound to help identify any potential threats skulking about the exit, but the reverberations spotted nothing of interest. Lowering his head and closing his wings, the thestral officer prepared for a high-speed escape.

“What’s that light coming from?” Gear Works asked.

Dusk slowed immediately and cracked his eyes open. The tunnel had been totally dark, naturally, to the point that Dusk had just closed his eyes while he ran and fought to better protect from irritants and avoid any sensory confusion. Looking outside the tunnel exit, he could see a bright spotlight being cast against the ground from an elevated position. He had almost run right into it.

“Well that’s weird,” the bat pony grunted. “Looks like a trap.”

“I believe that is a vehicular search lumen,” Gears pointed out.

“Do Striders have those? Could be Backfire’s.”

“Striders do have those, yes. However, I am not detecting any friendly IFF signums within a radius of 200 meters. I do not think it is Miss Backfire.”

Dusk stopped to think for a few seconds, and then reached up for one of the large spines reaching into the tunnel from around the exit. He jammed a blade into the base and then broke it off from the greater vine, leaving him with a shard of wood nearly the size of his leg. Then he gently tossed the spike out into the beam of light.

Heavy machine gun fire instantly greeted the movement, and the entire space in front of the tunnel was raked over with bullets. The ponies yelped and hugged the walls, watching nervously as some of the less accurate shots struck the dirt path between them.

“The Orks! Of course! Why would I think we were almost home free?” Dusk grumbled.

“I don’t understand! How did they find us? Why are they going to such lengths to track us down?” Gears gasped, flinching when a bullet struck close enough to tug at his cloak.

“They didn’t, and they’re not. They probably don’t even know what we are. This is a hunting trip,” Dusk replied.

“Hunting? What?”

“For food. They find something flammable that provides lots of cover, set it on fire, then shoot and kill whatever comes out. There’s probably a couple other Trukks parked all around this patch,” Dusk grimaced as a bit of wood shrapnel scraped at his ear from a bullet impact. “It’s kind of cunning, if not stupidly wasteful. And of course we got stuck here by coincidence. Classic Orks, right?”

The gunfire finally let up, and the spotlight beam started shifting from side to side, searching for any signs of a corpse.

“What are we going to do? Go back into the tunnel and hide until they give up?” Gears asked.

“No, I’ve still got that oxygen problem I mentioned before. Plus it’s starting to get REALLY hot in here,” Dusk grumbled. “I’m gonna call in the others.”

“You mean your squad? But they don’t have vox links. How will you…?”

Dusk Blade sucked in a deep breath, and then he screeched.

---

The Orks waiting in the Trukk suddenly straightened as they heard a strange, high-pitched shriek come from the tunnel exit they were covering.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!”

“Da zog iz dat?” grumbled the driver, moving the spotlight up to cast its light directly into the tunnel. He couldn’t see anything from his elevated position in the Trukk’s cab, but the screeching noise did stop a moment later.

“Oi, we shood git down dere an’ find wotevah’s screemin’,” suggested a boy hanging on the edge of the Trukk bed.

“No, I told yas arredy: youz gonna scayr da food,” grumbled the gunner. He seemed quite content to wait, despite his fingers drumming on the ammo feed of the twin big shoota.

The fire had already spread over most of the huge, thorn-ridden vines that concealed their prey, lighting up the sky and blasting embers and smoke into the air. The flames were crawling closer toward the Orks and the exit they were covering, and was probably minutes away from walling off the tunnel. The aliens checked their weapons with growing impatience, annoyed that the only sighting they’d gotten so far was a chunk of wood.

“Ya arredy scayd off da food!” complained another Ork. “Youz wuz shootin’ up da dirt loik it lookd atcha funnee!”

The gunner spat over the side of the Trukk. “Shut it, ya git! Yoo wuz shootin’ too! We’z waytin’!”

The driver adjusted the spotlight again, a growl rising in his throat. “If sumfin’ dozn’t zoggin’ HAPPIN soon we’z leevin’!” he declared.

“Oi! You’z not da boss ‘ere!” the gunner shouted, standing up over his seat. “Yoo want sumfin to happin so bad?!”

Presumably he was going to make a proposition or a threat after that, but once he completed the sentence a single gunshot came from behind the Trukk. The gunner’s head pitched forward sharply, and blood splashed across the windshield as his body folded limply over the backrest of the driver’s seat.

The other Orks blinked, and then immediately started brandishing their weapons and leaping out of the Trukk.

“Oi! We gotz a fight, lads!”

“Ha! A’right! Sum akshun!”

The driver grabbed the spotlight and twisted it around, sweeping the darkness behind the Trukk in search of a target. It crossed a dark shape on the ground, and then shifted back and centered on it.

A unicorn pony mare sat out in the open, her coat a dark gray and her mane a pale, muted violet. Her cutie mark was a crescent moon nestled beneath a dark circle, and matched her coat in color well enough that it could have been mistaken for part of her coat. She didn’t flinch away as she was illuminated, and her lips curled into a smirk while magical light swirled around her horn.

“Lovely night out, isn’t it boys?” Penumbra Shard asked, her eyes pulsing while an electric arc writhed around her horn.

“A HOSS!! KILL IT!!” the Orks roared, opening fire on the lone figure.

The night sky once again filled with the rattle of unrestrained automatic gunfire, and muzzle flash joined with the light cast by the towering bonfire behind the Trukk. The bullets that came anywhere near Penumbra vanished in pulses of bright turquoise, creating colorful ripples in the air like the surface of a pond disturbed by heavy rain.

Another gunshot came from the darkness, the flash briefly outlining a dead, twisted tree where the gunner was hiding. Another Ork pitched sharply to the side, blood spattering over his mob-mates. The driver shifted the spotlight again, casting it behind the unicorn to try to find the shooter.

“Oi! Hurree up n’ krump da magik hoss so’z ya can get da dakka hoss!” the driver bellowed, kicking the dead gunner out of his seat so he could man the big shoota.

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!” Three of the Orks rushed to charge the unicorn, their guns firing wildly.

Penumbra reared up, her magic swirling around her like a glowing ribbon. “I love the way blood looks in the moonlight,” she giggled while a runic circle appeared on the ground around her, “ushr kalis venu raahl!”

Another gunshot rang out from behind the unicorn. The bullet zipped through and over the sprinting Orks, punching into the Trukk’s spotlight and ripping out the back. The space around Penumbra was again blanketed in darkness, with only the barest glimmer of moonlight to illuminate her.

Whip-like tendrils of magic shot out from the ground just before the Orks reached her, slamming into two of the aliens with shocking force. The boys were thrown into the air from the impacts, and their flesh split open where the magic touched them, as if the bands of turquoise were edged with blades. The third Ork dodged out of the way through either luck or slightly better-than-average reflexes, avoiding the initial burst from the ground, but the magic curled in the air to follow him, lashing around his leg while another tendril bound an arm.

“This is the ebon vector, my favorite spell! I hardly ever get to use it, so I’m very happy to have volunteers!” Penumbra beamed while the Orks got back to their feet.

The boys once again trained their shootas on the glow of her horn, and two of the vectors crossed in front of her and flattened into a shield of force. Bullets spattered against the ghostly tendrils, each one decelerating and dropping to the ground. The entangled Ork was lifted off the ground while he thrashed, and then another of the ghostly tendrils slithered up and wrapped around his waist.

Penumbra nodded her head gently, and two of the vectors pulled down while the third, around his waist, pulled up. There was a sickening crack, and then the Ork was ripped in two amidst a shower of blood. The vectors promptly released the corpse and then slithered toward the other soldiers.

The driver grunted as he finally got the big shoota turned completely around on its mounting and aimed it. “Lessee ya majik yer way outta dis!” he shouted, just before a blade sunk into his shin.

The Ork howled angrily, but a moment later another blade punched into his side. Dusk shrieked and leapt into the air, dodging away from the driver’s attempt to punch him back. Then he dropped back down onto his target, kicking the Ork in the head.

“Lieutenant Blade! What a wonderful coincidence to find you here!” Penumbra shouted, her voice barely audible over the sound of burst fire and Ork howls.

“Yeah, wonderful! Sure!” Dusk punched his hoofblades into the driver’s throat. “Hurry up with those goons before another patrol finds out there’s a fight!”

An ebon vector wrapped around an Ork’s leg and tightened, crushing flesh and splintering bone in an instant. Another simply dove into a shoota boy like a spear, slamming him to the ground while it drilled through the alien’s chest. The mob fought back by clubbing and slashing at the tendrils, and to their credit physical attacks did seem to have some effect: vectors would bounce away from blunt impacts and even be severed by a choppa slash. Each time the tendrils would simply reform and return, however, their amorphous magical nature making them difficult to stop for long.

“Oi! It’z no gud! Leg it!” barked one soldier, kicking away a vector slithering toward his ankle. “Bakk to da Trukk!

He turned and ran, as did the two other Orks who hadn’t succumbed to Penumbra’s spell. Another gunshot came from the trees, and another of the soldiers collapsed into the dust. The magical vectors were slower to follow, mostly snaking around the victims on the ground who were still alive; drilling, choking, and carving apart the aliens in a gory frenzy.

Seeing some of her foes retreat, Penumbra reared up again while more power built up around her horn. “Ah-ah-ah! You’re not getting away that easily!” she sang, falling back to the ground and pounding one hoof into the dirt.

A wave of turquoise swelled and launched from the impact, crawling across the ground much faster than the Orks could run. It passed by the retreating soldiers, and then vanished under the Trukk.

“Wait for it…” the Moon Mage said, her eyes glittering.

A huge spike of dark blue punched up through the bottom of the vehicle, tearing the Trukk in half and throwing the pieces into the air. The Orks stumbled to a stop just a few feet away, and then immediately turned back around.

“A’roit ya zoggin majik freek!” bellowed one soldier, lifting his shoota again. “Com’n git me!”

A brief, loud shriek was all the warning he got before something zipped around the towering magic spike and slammed into the back of his head, digging a pair of blades into his neck. The other Ork promptly jumped in to help, using his own shoota to club the pony off of his mobmate. He also struck the bleeding Ork in the head in the process, knocking him flat on his back, but it was still largely a success.

Dusk rolled across the ground and bounced upright, grimacing under his mask at the pain in his leg. Then he seemed to blur into the darkness, the glow from his optics goggles sinking into nothingness.

The Ork howled and fired his shoota, sawing across the ground where he had last seen the bat. Bullets kicked up waves of dust as the spray swept back and forth, emptying the rest of the magazine into the cold night air. His shoota clicked empty, and a wash of gunsmoke curled around the mouth of its barrel.

Then another gunshot rang out from behind him, and he lurched forward. The soldier wobbled briefly, his gun slipping from his fingers. Then he slumped into the spreading pool of blood at his feet.

Gear Works waited about a minute after the final discharge of a firearm before he dared to peek out from behind the boulder he was sheltering behind. He didn’t move any further, instead staring at the giant glowing spike slowly shrinking back into the ground. He hadn’t gotten a great view of the combat, but he’d caught a few glimpses of the ebon vector hurling Orks around before tearing their transport in two, and he really wanted to ensure that the spell had run its course before he approached. The tentacles must have been capable of SOME degree of autonomy in order to function as they did, after all, and he had little idea how discriminating Penumbra’s magic was.

“Gears!” Dusk yelled from behind him again. “You okay? We need to go!”

Gear Works squeaked in fright, but managed to restrain anything more before he calmed down and twisted his head around. “Are the Orks all dead? Is it safe now?”

“All the Orks from THIS mob are dead, and no, it’s not safe so we should leave immediately,” the thestral explained, landing atop the boulder. His leg was bruised from the hit he’d taken, but the pain was tolerable. “Shard! Neuro! Get over here!”

A plane of glimmering turquoise appeared to draw itself in the air in the space of two seconds; sparks ran along a sharp trapezoid-shaped geometry, leaving pulsing blue light behind before the space between them suddenly flashed and filled with energy. Penumbra trotted out of the space, her horn crackling and a lazy smile on her face.

“Shard, where are the others?” Dusk demanded.

“We were looking for the Strider when the thestrals heard you,” Penumbra explained. “I thought it would be best to finish with that in case we needed to make a quick retreat from here, so we split up.”

“Good call. Then our next objective is the Strider,” Dusk said with a nod.

“183.92 meters at 71.43 degrees relative North,” Gear Works interjected. “It is moving, but not very fast and not in this direction.”

“You can sense it from this distance? Great!” Dusk Blade’s relief and approval was evident even through the mask and goggles. “I knew you’d come in handy!”

“We only needed to bring the Strider to accommodate him to begin with,” Neuron Dialect pointed out.

Gear Works managed to keep himself from making any noise this time, but the way his tail and servo arm bounced as Neuron spoke up behind him betrayed his surprise. It didn’t really surprise or distress him that bat ponies operating in the dead of night were extremely stealthy, but there was really no reason for them to constantly approach him from behind.

Dusk didn’t seem at all surprised by Neuron’s sudden appearance, but he did seem annoyed at her commentary. “First off: did you forget the part where we need him to complete the mission? And second: we have Shard, too,” he retorted, jumping off the rock and landing in a brisk trot.

“Shard can fly,” Neuron mumbled while she and the others moved to follow.

“Yes, but I don’t really like that spell,” the Moon Mage sighed, “better we have a transport, although I’d prefer something like those Ay-Pee-Cee things the humans use rather than clinging onto a scout walker.”

“Complain all you want, but I spent a lot of leverage and favors getting us Gears and Backfire on such short notice,” Dusk sniffed, turning the glare of his optic lights on Neuron in particular. “It’s not like any other Dark Techpriest was going to agree to leap out of a gunship to help us!”

“I was quite opposed to it myself!” Gears interjected.

“And he’s a Dark Acolyte, not a Dark Techpriest,” Neuron added.

“Neuro, go dark and cover us from the trees,” Dusk said, lowering his voice without changing his pace.

A twinkling red glint was the last thing Gear Works saw before the sniper pony ducked away and vanished. He froze in place, his optics clusters centering on the space where she had disappeared and zooming in. Nothing. The space around it was perfectly visible to him, with the nearest bit of foliage several meters away and the darkness of night of little to no benefit to a pony trying to hide from his augment’s sensoria. But hide she had.

“Gears, what’s the hold-up? I need you to tell me if my heading is off!” Dusk said.

Gear Works bolted into a run, putting the mare’s suspiciously effective stealth skills out of mind. “Your heading is correct, Lieutenant. I believe the Strider is approaching us directly now, albeit slowly.”

“Backfire probably noticed the combat and is coming to get us now that it’s over. I’m sure another Ork hunting mob or two is on their way too.”

Gears glanced behind him, checking for any distant lights that may have indicated pursuit. “Is that why you told Miss Dialect to hide for tactical advantage?”

“No. I’m just tired of listening to her arguing,” Dusk sniffed, “we should be well clear of any Orks by now; even if any of them are smart enough to track us in the dark we have too much of a head start on them.”

“You know, we could just kill them too,” Penumbra offered, smiling as her eyes glimmered with magic. “I’m up for another three or four mobs.”

“No,” Dusk said firmly. “We already had a crash landing and a firefight. We’re behind schedule, both me and Gears are scuffed up, and Neuro’s down a magazine. And of course, the more Orks we kill, the more will show up looking for action. We’re going to find our Strider and move out.”

Penumbra sighed dreamily and then turned to Gear Works. “Isn’t he dashing when he’s all serious and responsible? I could just listen to him admonish me all night…”

“I must admit his demeanor on battlefield deployments is very different from the norm,” Gears replied, “it’s no wonder his squad respects him even when absolutely no one else does.”

“Hey!” Dusk complained, “That’s not true! I served on Princess Luna’s honor guard, come on!”

“It is your oft-expressed opinion that such roles are completely ornamental and select for Lunar Guard that look good, not those most capable or reliable.”

“And you DO look good, Lieutenant,” Penumbra purred.

“Shard, go dark and cover us from the shadows,” Dusk suddenly commanded.

The unicorn blinked. “I… don’t really do that.”

“Worth a shot,” the stallion grunted before he sensed the Strider up ahead.

The equine-form walker was moving in a gentle trot, it wide, circular feet pads making muted thunking noises with every step. A series of orange lights peered out from the armored box that was its head, casting just enough glow around it for anyone to see it reflecting off the lascannon barrel extending from the right side. That lascannon swung down and to the side suddenly, pointing straight at Gear Works.

The Dark Acolyte stopped, his ears perking, but otherwise didn’t seem especially bothered by having the weapon aimed in his direction. “Hello, Miss Backfire. I hope your landing was gentler than mine.” He could see two lumps atop the walker that were difficult even for his optics to identify but were definitely not part of the battlesuit’s construction; Nacht and Gloom Fang, he presumed.

“IT WENT WELL ENOUGH!” Zariyah Backfire announced through the obnoxiously loud vox caster. “THE REAR ACTUATOR-”

“Hey! HEY! Quiet down!” Dusk Blade snapped, his ears flattening against his head. “We have who knows how many Ork patrols scooting around this place looking for something to fight or eat! I don’t want another battle before we’ve even got our bearings!”

The Strider bowed its head silently, signaling its submission. Dusk snorted and then looked up higher.

“Gloomy, get down here.”

One of the dark shapes clinging to the top of the scout walker spread his wings and dove over the side. Gloom Fang landed almost noiselessly despite the heft of his armor, and then rose to stand up straight in front of his squad leader.

“Okay, now, I know what you’re thinking,” Gloom said while Dusk approached him, “but really, can we say for SURE the nerd pony wouldn’t have crashed in exactly the same way whether or not I shoved…” He stopped speaking once a hoofblade touched against his throat.

“Now Gloomy, I want you to listen REAL carefully, because I’m only going to say this once,” Dusk Blade said, his voice oozing venom and his eyes glowing a bright amber in the darkness, “dark drops are dangerous. You’re very stupid, but you know that they’re dangerous. You endangered the mission and you endangered my friend’s life. And you did it for no reason besides your brief amusement. That’s not okay.”

Gloom Fang quivered where he stood, his armor rattling slightly while beads of sweat dripped down his head and neck.

“Now, I’m not going to hurt you because this place is swarming with potential threats and I need the extra pony power. But I want you to know that if this happens again then I’m going to have to revise what the bigger threat to our mission really is. Did you get all that?” Dusk asked.

“Y-Yes, Lieutenant…” Gloom Fang whimpered.

“Good.” Dusk took his weapon away from Gloom Fang’s throat and then looked back over his shoulder. “That goes for the rest of you, too! No more bullying or hazing the Techpriest! That INCLUDES mocking him for being a nerd or being funny-looking or making weird noises or whatever! Okay? Save it until we get back to base!”

Penumbra Shard nodded solemnly, and Nacht leaned over the edge of the Strider’s back so that she was sure the others could see her nodding too. Neuron Dialect dropped down out of nowhere (Gears was quite certain he was looking in the correct direction to spot her approach, but saw nothing until she touched the ground), landing on the other side of Dusk.

“Does pointing out his correct rank count as hazing?” Neuron asked blandly.

“No, although that is ALSO getting on my nerves,” Dusk admitted.

“I appreciate it, actually. It saves me the trouble of constantly correcting the Lieutenant myself,” Gear Works admitted.

“Whatever. Everypony get aboard the walker,” Dusk ordered, his voice sounding bitter. “We should be at the site where the DarkMech deployed the seismic pylons within the hour, as long as we don’t have to creep around anymore greenskins.”

“I can help with that, Lieutenant,” Penumbra purred. “Miss Backfire, if you would?”

The Strider adjusted the spacing of its legs, and then slowly laid down onto the dirt. The bat ponies all latched onto the carrying hooks on the side, with Gloom Fang eagerly taking the opposite side from Dusk Blade. Penumbra bounded onto the Strider’s back, and Gear Works followed her up with considerably less grace, clambering up the access rails on the back.

“Is everypony ready?” Zariyah called out, her voice coming from the body of the machine rather than being amplified from the head.

“Yes. The path lay West by Northwest. Keep speed to a good trot and minimize light,” Dusk instructed.

“Don’t worry about the lights,” Penumbra said as magic started swirling around her horn.

A cloud of strange mist started to swirl around her, and then it expanded to surround the battlesuit entirely in a dome-shaped barrier. Gears was perplexed to find that the mist completely blocked his visual sensors; cycling vision modes was useless. The Strider looked back and forth as its stood back up, and then Zariyah’s voice again came from the cockpit.

“What is this barrier? I cannot see a thing ahead of me!” she complained.

“We can guide you,” Penumbra said, her eyes flashing turquoise, “the night shroud doesn’t block sound, and I can see through it. You just have to keep your head down and keep from tripping on anything.”

“Why do you have to blind me to evade the greenskins?” the pilot complained while she started moving forward. “I would rather be able to see and risk a patrol!”

“I’m sure you would,” Nacht said flatly, banging her hoof on the Strider’s thick outer plating. “We’ll all feel the shootas way before you do.”

“Backfire, listen: I know it sucks, but it really is more important that Orks be unable to spot us than it is you be able to see the route,” Dusk explained. “Speaking of which: cut left.”

The walker jerked sharply to the side, avoiding a tree that its pilot couldn’t see in time. Gears stumbled from the sudden motion, and then yelped as a stray branch struck him in the face. He might well have fallen off the back of the battlesuit entirely, but a tendril of magic gently hugged him from one side and then pushed him back into place.

“Okay, move right about 10 or so degrees… yeah, that should do it,” Dusk instructed.

Gear Works kept quiet as the vine of glowing turquoise slowly withdrew, grazing the hair of his flesh leg as it did. Penumbra Shard laid on her belly in front of him, a lazy smirk on her face while the tendril sunk into the topside of the Strider’s hull. He hadn’t had a close look at what the ebon vector could do in battle, but he’d seen enough; he didn’t dare speak until the spell’s manifestation had vanished.

“Thank you, Miss Shard. You must be a very talented magus to control both the shroud and the vector at once,” he offered.

Penumbra tittered into a hoof, her bright blue eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Oh, you flatter me! This much isn’t anything special.”

“I am… unfamiliar with the Moon Mages’ arcane profile. I’d never heard of them before tonight,” Gear Works admitted, “and when I located your personal data log in the noosphere personnel stacks, almost all of it was empty.”

“Mmmm… a bit nosy, aren’t you?” the unicorn teased. “Unfortunately if you’re curious about Moon Mages I can’t really help you. Our history is secret for a reason.”

“Can you tell me why Moon Mages are on indefinite lockdown, restricted to Nightwatch? You’re not allowed to leave without an armed escort, correct?”

“That is correct, but I’m afraid I have little else to tell you,” Penumbra sighed. “The rules placed upon us by the Company Commanders are based on mere superstition and senseless fear.”

“Also, they’re criminals,” Dusk interjected.

Penumbra’s eye twitched. Gears turned his head around and leaned over to address the bat pony clinging to the Strider below him.

“Criminals? I saw no disciplinary records among that personnel bank.”

“Of course you didn’t. They weren’t crimes against the Company. They were crimes against Equestria,” Dusk explained. His tone was completely serious, if not a bit glib. “The Iron Warriors don’t really care, of course, but their imprisonment was a condition of their recruitment.”

“Lieutenant, I know you hold this half-mechanical zealot in high esteem but I would appreciate it if you didn’t go any further with your teasing,” Penumbra said sharply. Then she coughed and turned back to Gear Works. “Lieutenant Blade isn’t completely wrong, but it’s much more complicated than that. We’re not criminals or prisoners in a literal sense.”

“… But you ARE living together under a tower and you can’t leave unless under the supervision of someone with a gun?” Gears asked hesitantly.

“Well it sounds bad when you put it like THAT, sure!” the unicorn groaned. “I prefer to think of it as having an unusually short commute to work.”

“I… suppose you don’t look or act like a penal conscript,” Gears admitted awkwardly, “but it’s strange that every other equine unit was recruited, armed, and trained by the 38th Company for their purported battlefield role. The Moon Mages alone seemed to have just… appeared one day, and are deployed sparingly. At least, as far as I could tell from the records. You’re a complete mystery.”

Penumbra smiled again, pleased at the description. “That we are… It would be nice to get more experience on the battlefield, in my opinion, but our power isn’t quite trusted, if you can believe that!”

“I can believe that,” the Dark Acolyte mumbled.

“Also they’re useless during the day,” Dusk interjected.

“Would you STOP divulging my secrets to the only pony here with an internal data transmitter?!” Penumbra snapped, leaning over the edge of the Strider while her horn crackled dangerously.

“What do you care? I’m not telling him anything the Iron Warriors don’t already know,” Dusk retorted, smiling beneath his mask. “Who do you think he’s going to tell?”

“That’s not the point!” the unicorn growled. “I don’t-”

“Shush,” Neuron Dialect said suddenly. “Incoming.”

All conversation halted, and the ponies strained to hear over the whir and thumps of the Strider’s gait. A distant rumble of engines, and getting louder. A burst of gunfire cut through the night, followed by deep, bellowing laughter. More Trukks and more Orks.

Nacht banged her hoof against the Strider’s hull. “Hey! Stop! Remain absolutely still!”

The Strider came to a stop, although there was a barely audible grumbling coming from the cockpit. Penumbra stood up, an electric arc curling around her horn. Gear Works laid down, much more nervous about being hit by stray bullets or getting thrown off during a retreat.

The Trukks raced by one by one; three of them, each one packed to the railing with Orks. The headlights didn’t stray far from the path directly ahead of the convoy, but what little light crossed the Strider’s position revealed only a pall of swirling gray dust. The Ork patrols didn’t give the phenomenon a second glance, although they did fire a few more bursts from their machine guns into the air at random.

“… Okay, we’re well out of earshot now,” Dusk said after a few minutes passed, his ears pivoting toward the tracks the Trukks had left in the dirt. “I don’t think they dropped off anything, either. All clear.”

“I think they’re heading toward where we were fighting before,” Penumbra said while the Strider started moving again.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. You could see that giant glowing spike from a mile away,” the Lieutenant replied. “That’s not too bad, though. They’ll be busy looting the dead and trying to sniff out our tracks while we’ve already passed them.” Then he banged a hoof on the Strider’s hull. “Backfire! Rock outcropping. Cut right.”

The walker shifted its heading, and Gears perked up his ears. “We should arrive at the initial deployment site of the seismic pylons shortly. I think. I assume you’ve been directing us correctly but bizarrely, this shroud also confuses mag-directional guidance.”

Penumbra tittered into her hoof again, smirking at the Dark Acolyte. “Useful, isn’t it? It can even blind scrying and detection spells!”

“As long as they don’t cast them during the day,” Dusk mumbled.

A vein popped up on Penumbra’s head. “All right, seriously, STOP THAT,” the Moon Mage demanded, her eyes flashing with magical energy while she leaned over the edge of the Strider’s body again.

“You don’t give me orders,” Dusk countered, staring up into her eyes fearlessly, “and it’s my prerogative to make sure my squad knows your weaknesses.”

“Don’t think that just because I’m hopelessly in love with you I’ll let you bully me!” Penumbra warned, her horn crackling.

“I do not think that you’re hopelessly in love with me, don’t worry,” Dusk retorted before making a gagging sound. “That’s just another dumb ploy you use to get what you want.”

“Excuse me?!” she gasped, sounding scandalized. “I’ll have you know there’s NOTHING I want more than the intimate, passionate touch of a mighty stallion! Everything else is trivial in comparison! The very idea that I would betray my feelings for something else!”

“C’mon Lieutenant! Be nice to Penny!” Nacht whined. “We never get sent on missions together!”

“Yeah, I know. She didn’t get sent on this one, either,” Dusk reminded her.

“Is THIS the thanks I get for destroying an entire Ork mob and saving you?” Penumbra complained, scrunching up her muzzle. “I didn’t come with you to be treated this way!”

“So why DID you come along?” Dusk asked.

Penumbra glared down at the Lunar Lieutenant silently, and then huffed and turned away. Nacht made a disappointed sound and climbed up on top of the Strider to sit next to the sulking unicorn, patting her on the back with her wing. Gear Works watched in silence, and then leaned over the edge again.

“Lieutenant, if you believe Miss Shard possesses an alternate mission objective, why did you not refuse her request to accompany us?” the tech-cultist asked.

“I stand by what I said then: she has her own agenda, but even so I’d rather have her help,” Dusk Blade admitted. “You’ve seen some of what she’s capable of. I’d bet she can handle any Ork or other hostile we come across… as long as it’s nighttime.”

“And don’t you forget it!” the unicorn in question interjected with a sniff. The Moon Mage was resting her chin on Nacht’s head, looking sad as the smaller mare hugged her.

“The thing is, we don’t really need her help for our mission. But I’d wager a week’s rations that she needs our help for hers,” Dusk mused. “Anyway, we’re here. That didn’t take nearly as long as I thought. Full stop, Backfire.”

The Strider slowed to a halt, and Dusk and Neuron silently disconnected themselves from the carriage hooks. They dropped to the ground with barely a sound, and then carefully exited the night shroud. Listening carefully for anything moving nearby, they advanced on a large hole that had been drilled in the center of the open space.

“Shard, it’s clear! Drop the shroud! Backfire, give us some light!” Dusk ordered.

Still looking somewhat dejected, Penumbra dispelled the cloud of magical darkness around the equine battlesuit. Zariyah, finally able to see her surroundings, turned and lowered her machine’s head to point toward the grounded bat ponies and then turned the lumens all the way up. Dusk winced away from the light, his eyes needing time to adjust. Neuron’s cybernetic vision adjusted much faster, and she started searching the ground.

The hole was about four feet across, with several divots in the ground nearby for the support struts. The ground was covered by dozens of vehicle tracks going every which way; this particular section of ground saw considerable vehicle traffic. One particular set was almost certainly the Mechanicus prospecting rig that had drilled and deployed the seismic pylon. This pair of tracks was deep and straight, running across the field with the hole spaced perfectly between them. But it wasn’t the vehicle they were here for.

“Looks like this is where they dragged it out of the pit. I see a few metal pieces dropped here. Thugs couldn’t even wait to get back to camp before dismantling it,” Dusk muttered, peering at a rougher trail that lacked the repeating groove patterns of tracks or tires. “The problem is: which vehicle took it, and which way did it go?”

Neuron Dialect stood silent, her head slowly turning back and forth. Glimmering red light peeked out from beneath her hood while she studied the tracks in minute detail and disentangled each one, determining its age and where it went. She looked up at Dusk Blade.

“How long ago was the machine seized? Do we know?” she asked.

Dusk turned around and beckoned up to the Strider. It approached slowly, its head arched down toward the Lieutenant. Then Dusk flew up and landed next to Gear Works.

“Hey, do you have any idea when this thing was taken? The report I saw didn’t list a lot of details.”

Gears paused, and then a holo-screen appeared in front of him. Data screed swam across the page while an outline of the device itself – a tall cylinder with a piston hammer under the base – hung in the corner. Gear’s eyes pulsed for a moment, and then he looked up at Dusk.

“The particular pylon installed in this location ceased transmission approximately 130 hours ago, presumably when Ork looters tore it apart for salvage,” Gear Works explained.

Dusk whirled around. “Five days ago!” he shouted down to the sniper.

Neuron stared down at the tracks, her hood obscuring her gaze while she studied the minute creases in the dirt. Dusk Blade landed on the Strider’s head, waiting patiently for her to complete her analysis. Gear Works watched her as well for a few seconds, tilted his head to the side, and then turned to look at something off to the side.

“This way,” Neuron said, raising her head and then pointing a wing Eastward.

“We’ve got a heading!” Dusk shouted, banging a hoof on the Strider’s head. “Backfire, we’re due East! Neuro, sit up here on the head. If we see the tracks branch you’ll need-” he stopped when a servo arm gently poked at his wing.

Gear Works pointed a hoof off to the side. “If you’re trying to track the Orks that made off with the pylon, I believe they went further Southwest.”

The Lunar Lieutenant blinked, and then looked off in the direction Gears had indicated. The Strider also turned its head to illuminate the path. There were several vehicle tracks leading off that way, as there were in every other direction, but the bat ponies could not see anything distinctive about them.

“What makes you think they went that way?” Dusk asked while Neuron flew up and perched behind him.

“The Orks damaged the casing badly enough that it ruptured the power cell. Its leaking radioactive material, albeit in such small quantities that it’s barely detectable,” Gear Works explained, “the trail leads off that way.”

“What does any of that mean?” Gloom Fang asked suspiciously.

“It means he can see the magic that allows the Company’s gear to work,” Nacht explained, looking somewhat smug as she did so. “It’s like how unicorns can see spells when it all just looks like colored light to the rest of us, and pegasi are super sensitive to air currents and stuff!”

“… That’s not totally wrong, I suppose,” Dusk mumbled. “Neuro, how confident are you about being able to detect the age and precise heft of those tracks?”

Neuron’s bionic eyes glowered from beneath her hood, two points of ruby red glinting through the darkness. “I trust the machines. If he says there’s a trail, we should follow it.”

“All right! Backfire, take the new heading! Shard, bring up the shroud again; we’ll need to be extra careful approaching an Ork camp. Gears, you keep an eye on the tracks for any turns!” The Lieutenant smiled under his mask and gave the tech-cultist a slap on the back with his wing. “If this pays off then the biggest hurdle of this whole operation is done with!”

“Finding the seismic thing is the biggest hurdle? I thought it… uh…” Nacht trailed off as all the other ponies of Dagger Squadron turned toward her, and she could feel their glares through the masks. “Yes, well, if you say so, Lieutenant!” she said, her voice sounding very nervous. Penumbra silently patted her on the head, smirking.

“I do say so, yeah,” Dusk growled. Then he banged a hoof against the top of the Strider. “Let’s move out!”

The equine battlesuit started trotting in the direction Gears had indicated. Penumbra began casting her spell again, while Nacht and Dusk Blade climbed down to the hooks on the side of the walker. Neuron Dialect moved to join Dusk like before, but then her ear twitched and she froze in place.

The mare’s head swiveled around, and her augmetic eyes zoomed in on a rock outcropping a good distance away. There was a strange sliver of something in the air, like a loose flame floating off of some invisible candle. Her vision stuttered slightly, went to static, and then reset, all in the space of a second. There was nothing there. Just a boulder jutting out of the ground.

“Neuro, what’s the hold-up? You spot something?” Dusk asked.

“… No. There’s nothing,” she mumbled back before joining the Lieutenant.

Author's Note:

Man every time I introduce an OC now I can't help but order a bunch of art pieces for them. Sometimes even before I introduce them!
Anyway have some sneering anime Penumbra:

This picture was drawn by Alus, while the picture in-chapter was done by Spoopygander

Comments

[Venerable Ro]

Dusk throwing sunlight on his fellow bats is great banter.

[Mix-up]

This was a fun chapter, and a lot less gloomy then the previous ones, thought I my perspective might have been colored back then. I wonder how Penumbra managed to even get a university education without a prier education record and not having been a Equestrian citizen, did she come in under a exchange program or scholarship that Equestria(before Luna's return) just handed out in hope to reach out to the various testhreals tribes, or maybe she went 'undercover'?

I am surprised that Gears didn't get his adrenalin gland and other mind affected hormones removed, I would have guess the dark mechanicus would do like to makes all their members no be affected by anything other then on their say so? I would guess they replace them with artificial ones.

I wonder how badly the Theastral bad reputation might deserved, and what were their previous attempts to try to intergrade themselves back into Equestrian society, if they were that bad off without Equestria. Did their technical skills degrade sense the Nightmare Moon rebellion to the point they had to scavenge/raid from Equestrian settlements?

It's sad and disappointing to hear that they didn't benefit of a proper education, but from Dusk's previous comments it seems pretty rampant, I would certainly understand why he is so frustrated and dismayed with his own members and prefer the company of Twilight and Gears. And I could certainly understand why he has so many sociopathic tendencies if his own tribe does just as many cruel things to perceived outsiders as he does(I haven't forgotten that he had a slave at one point). I was surprised how much concern he showed for Gears to the degree of being willing to risk his own hide for him.

[Yotz]

Ah, hidden dataspike sting...
Arbites Murphy's school of improvised fighting for Marked by Omnissiah's touch - in sooth, a glorious ancient tradition!
...Pity that it do degrades dataspikes drastically - but what you can do.

[Yotz]

11753932
>>adrenaline gland
Counterpoint: Dark Mechanicus does not care about ponies, doubly - neigh, triply so about ponies trying to get into Dark Mechanicum.
To the point of them actually spending tremendous amount of effort in order to specifically not care even more.
Which means, all the inefficiencies of meatsack part may have been left in intentionally, to prove that ponies are inferior to Mechanicum in every possible way. Or just left it, because nobody cares, really. Especially about ponies.

>>degradation of Thestral tek abilities
Ponies, on average, have very little propensity for tek in general - be they Thestral or not, I suppose.
It is just that day ponies are more easy going and, just like overwhelming majority of non-trans/post Humans, see no significant difference between magic and tek - to quote Techpriest L'Ambrose: "Any technology, no matter how primitive, is magic to those who don't understand it"; while general paranoid attitudes of Thestral culture makes such deficiencies into little manias and phobias, leading to, to misquote Remembrancer Marcus Secundus, "but he called me a logarithm!" situations.

>>Dusk actually caring
Oh, don't worry - he surely will find a way to re-rationalize it as "enlightened self-interest" or something, should push come to shove.

[SFaccountant]

11753932
Oh, Penumbra was raised in Equestria as a citizen, had a mostly normal foalhood, and definitely completed all her other schooling without a problem.
Very weird that no one but her remembers any of it and there are no records, but you know these things happen
As for the adrenal gland and other emotion-inducing parts of the brain, it's worth acknowledging that A) precise brain augmentation is advanced and not performed lightly, and Gear Works has rarely had his choice of bionics, and B) the Mechanicus has always been weird about emotions and personality. Many believe movement toward emotionless logic is the holy ideal, while others believe it is a part of core humanity that must be preserved. Most high-level Techpriests, I must add, obviously have emotional capacity. Often on purpose!
As for the bat ponies one of the major subtexts of this story is that they spent a millenium as rebellious exiles, considered soldiers of an enemy army too badly broken and widely scattered to bother hunting down (or too dangerous in the case of the Bloodborne) only to suddenly be welcomed back to Equestria with open arms. It was a turbulent time and they have lots of feelings about it.

11754162
Random animal internals tend to be detrimental to sensitive electronics! The surgeon pony can sympathize, I'm sure.

[Hey its that Pony]

I think Twilight actually does less wrangling than Dusk with her own group, but they're still both functional as a whole.

Huh. Does that mean that Gears is Dusks' version of Spike?

[SFaccountant]

11754409
He's NOT A SLAVE, he's a FRIEND!

and so is Spike

[UrsaMajor]

Yay, new chapter!
Is the rockwurm some kind of graboid-type thing?
Nice to see what the new OCs can do in a fight.

Found a few errors:

“… I want to know who’s fault it is that your professor died,” Gears replied, his ears pinning back. “Was it you? Is that why you were unable to graduate?”

who's -> whose

Bullets spattered against the ghostly tendrils, each one decelerating decelerating and dropping to the ground.

Extra "decelerating."

He turned and ran, as did the two other Orks who hadn’t succumbed to Penumbra’s spell. Another gunshot came from the trees, and another of the soldiers collapsed into dust.

"collapsed onto the dust," unless it's a disintegration.

[Wydril]

Pretty neat look at how drastically the Orks have changed things for Centaur III. Just riding around spraying gunfire and still being able to close in on any potential objects of interest to them in a flash. Sucks to be everyone outside Equestria and Ferry D!

Except for the keepers possibly, since their tech is fundamentally different from the wargear the Orks are familiar with. The Company is still hunting them though, so it still sucks to be them, just a little bit less.

“And the mission to GET reconnaissance on the area is the one you’re skipping so we can get to this secret other objective,” Gear Works mentioned from the other side of the holo.

“Yeah. Well, kind of. We ARE getting data on the region, so really you can think of it as an extension of the original mission.” Dusk paused briefly, and then coughed into a hoof. “By the way, Gears: you are not to transmit any of the data we gather on the Orks’ location or the recovered subterranean mapping to anyone outside Dagger Squad. Not until I allow it, anyway.”

“That is against operational protocol,” Gear Works said, his sensor lights narrowing.

“Your mom is against operational protocol,” Nacht interjected. She was laying against Penumbra Shard’s side, and the unicorn snort-laughed at the comment.

And so are the seeds of division cultivated; the Horsey Heresy shall rear its head and mare will turn on mare.

Get it, 'cause they're ponies? They rear up? Yeah, you got it Alternate name could be Horse Heresy, but it sounds too close to Horus for me, like it's just saying Horus a little too quickly and drops the rising u pronunciation.
11754208

the Mechanicus has always been weird about emotions and personality. Many believe movement toward emotionless logic is the holy ideal, while others believe it is a part of core humanity that must be preserved. Most high-level Techpriests, I must add, obviously have emotional capacity. Often on purpose!

Having observed the thestrals' actions towards Gears, my emotion cores return anger. I choose not to experience it. Having observed little ponies running around a big world, my emotion cores return joy and excitement. I choose to experience them.

[SFaccountant]

11754877
The rockwurm is very similar to, but legally distinct from, the graboid from the cult classic horror film Tremors.
Think of it as a younger, dumber cousin to the MLP Tatzlwurm.
Also, thank you for the corrections!

11754888
The Horse Heresy was Luna's turning to the Nightmare.
... Which is the core of the mysterious sub-plot that's slowly being peeled away. So, yeah!

[Wydril]

11755544
Oh my! I now find myself dearly wishing for ponies casually referencing the Horse Heresy in earshot of Chaos troops to become a thing, especially to older Astartes.

It was objectively the worst calamity to ever befall Equestria; dozens were killed, and the fighting tore open a great breach in reality. The Arboreal Permalibre Evilus consumed much of the land around their former capital, letting wild magic and chaos run free within a strictly contained area. Mutated beasts, bizarre artifacts, and a climate which resists pegasi weather control; all came into being with Luna's psychic shriek at being put in her thousand year time out.

How could space aliens ever understand such things? It was just the worst, like omg.

[Yotz]

...I suddenly realized what was bugging me about this chapter all along.
Its title does not start with letter "P"!
Naughty, naughty...

[Yotz]

11755654
Just as I wait with baited breath for someone to realize that, since Equestria now includes several other (former) kingdoms, technically Princess Celestia should henceforth be referred to as Empress...
With Solon, subsequently, making a golden power armour suit for her in image of the Emperor's own as a mocking gesture towards all things Imperial (and so she would finally stop bugging him with very strong worded letters on how she really feels about all thouse new kingdoms she now have to manage).

On other hand, the thought of everyone just keeping dancing around that and never saying it out loud is even funnier.

[Telos4]

Welp looks like Murphy has graced this mission already to a degree

Also always a good bit of fun to see orks getting shredded

[FredMSloniker]

11755874
Even the orks agree!

[Bahamuttone]

was all the warning his got before something zipped

he

[Bahamuttone]

Hm I'm really perplexed by how Gloomy Fang and the other Thestral manage to survive... being THAT antagonistic to those who can shut down your life support or make so that your rifle explodes in your face is not a long term survival strategy...

[SFaccountant]

11821771
Gear Works cannot do either of those things. His general demeanor is extremely submissive and cowardly, as well.
How you survive being ultra-antagonistic among cruel mercenaries and evil cyborgs is developing a sharp sense for who can and will retaliate.