A Deathwatch Space Marine ends up in the Equestrian Wasteland. Can the wastelanders survive the wrath of a man bred to kill any aliens he meets no matter what?
Captain Michael Octavian of the Deathwatch gets thrown into the Warp by a Chaos Sorcerer during a three way battle between Orks, Chaos, and the Imperium of Man. He is lost to the Imperium, but his story isn't over yet. The battered warrior awakes in the Equestrian Wasteland, and goes forth to find out why he survived what should have killed him. What will happen to the wasteland now? It's anyone's guess, but one thing's for certain, his actions will forever change the blasted wastes........
A Fallout: Equestria/ Warhammer 40000 Crossover
A/N: Constructive criticism wanted! This is my first story, and I would like as much help as possible to polish it!
“Life is the Emperor’s Currency, Spend it Well.” -Imperial Thought of the Day
043.M42
On the Surface of Forge World Ordana
The Chamber Militant of the Ordo Xenos, known as the Deathwatch,were engaged in a bitter stalemate with the Ork WAAGH! of Warboss Gorgunk Da ‘Bonebreaka. Originally sent to the planet to investigate reports of a Dark Eldar attack, they found themselves face to face with a green tide of proportions not seen since the Wars of Armageddon.
Captain Michael Octavian, originally from the Blood Angels Space Marine Chapter, Tore the head off a charging Nob with his mastercrafted Chainsword.
“By the Emperor! Where are those reinforcements?!” He called out over the VOX.
ducking under the axe of an ork, he rammed his knee into the gut of the unfortunate Choppa Boy, and stabbed his chainsword into the vile ork’s back, Coating his black Power Armour with even more blood and flesh. A foolhardy ork opened fire on him, but was torn down by the bolts of his battle-brothers, the rounds never got close to him. After the last ork was cut down in the name of the Emperor, Michael received a transmission over VOX.
“This is High Inquisitor Gerard Barano of the Ordo Xenos, All Deathwatch kill teams are to regroup at Manafacturium Noctis. We have reports of a massive group of heretics incoming on your positions. You will be meeting with daemonhunters of the Ordo Malleus and will assist them in slaying the cultists.”
To say that Captain Octavian was surprised at this news was an understatement. First Dark Eldar, then Greenskins, and now the Forces of Chaos? This day just kept getting better and better.
“We shall go there in the Emperor’s name!” replied the Captain. The orks around his squad were all dead, so he was prepared to move to face the next wave of foolish enemies and crush them with the Fury of the God-Emperor. Chaos or Xenos, Captain Octavian cared not who he fought.
“Brothers! Let us go forth to victory! Chaos now rears its ugly head, let us cleave it from its shoulders! FOR THE EMPEROR!” Michael roared.
"FOR THE EMPEROR!" Came the booming reply of the Astartes.
The remaining members of the squad rushed towards the massive factory, smoke rising from its mighty walls, eager to spill blood for the Imperium. Corpses of ork and man alike littered the cracked and smoldering grounds before them. And yet, nothing else was before them. It was quiet.
Too quiet.
FWOOSH!
A blast of Warp Energy stayed their feet, and the twisted form of a Sorcerer bound to Tzeentch, the Chaos Lord of Change appeared before them. Severed heads and forbidden magics coated the dark warrior's tainted power armour, the faces of the fallen frozen in eternal terror. The heretic's scarred and mutated smile leered at our heroes, a single horn was jutting out of the center of his forehead, vile mutation granted to him by his dark master. The sorcerer spoke, his voice filled with the taint of the Warp.
“You fools will fall before the might of Chaos! Your False Emperor will be destroyed, and you shall join him in death!” Sneered the Cultist.
“Vile heretic! It is you that shall die on this day!” Retorted Captain Octavian, chainsword at the ready. “NOW FACE THE WRATH OF THE GOD EMPEROR THAT YOU HAD FORSAKEN! ”
He charged the Sorcerer, his weapon hungering for the blood of heresy. Doom bolts charged upon the warrior, but only one was fortunate enough to hit Michael, Yet was unfazed by the attack. He swung the sword, and the sorcerer countered with his corrupted stave. Octavian swung yet again for the flesh of the vile fiend, and yet the sorcerer still met his attacks with equal vigor. The captain barely had time to react as the heretic swung towards a new vector, and nearly disarmed him.
This traitor shows skill. Michael thought.
I must be more cautious.
WIth a mighty roar Michael swung to the left, and tricked the foul Chaos Space Marine by backhanding him upside the head. Another well timed swing, and his blade tasted blood yet again that day, the chain tearing away at the fool’s flesh.
“BLEED HERETIC!” Michael bellowed. He pulled the blade away from the bleeding traitor, and prepared to deal the final blow. With a blast of Warp energy he was forced away.
“CHAOS JUDGES YOU UNWORTHY LAPDOG! BE CONSUMED BY THE WARP!” With those words, the sorcerer leapt up, and a massive warp tear was thrust into the materium. Michael tried to escape the pull of the vile warp energy, but was unsuccessful in escaping it’s grasp. He was taken by the warp, and the daemonic portal closed...
Captain Michael Octavian, Battle brother of the Blood Angels and warrior of the Deathwatch, was lost to the Imperium that day, but his story is not over yet. He will soon wake up in a world nearly dead due to the wars of Xenos......
"An open mind is like a fortress with its gates unbarred and unguarded." -Imperial Thought of the Day
Year 1277 AB (After Banishment)
Outside New Appaloosa, Equestrian Wasteland
With a groan, Captain Michael Octavian stirred. He opened his eyes, and was greeted with the sight of dead plains all around him. He was shocked, he had not expected to survive that final attack.
I live?
With a quick leap, Michael got to his feet, and begun to check his armor and weapons for damage. While taking the usual rites and preparations, Octavian begun to notice something strange. His armor’s sensors had picked up a unknown type of radiation, and yet it felt arcane in nature.
“These lands are tainted with foul energies, No realm but the Warp could have such foul magics.....Right? ”
The captain was not 100 percent sure. While forbidden energies flowed from the grounds around him, The dead lands certainly didn't feel like the realm of Chaos, but he still wasn't taking any chances. he stretched his muscles, and checked his bolt supply.
“I have plenty of bolts, for now. It is a good thing that I did not waste them upon the foul Greenskins. Emperor, grant me strength to face the horrors that may be dwelling in this place.”
His motion sensors suddenly picked up potential targets.
“Well, I hope they bring with them a good fight.” He smirked within his helm.
He prepared himself to face a group of daemons, but instead a group of what appeared to be equines of some kind came towards him, hooting and hollering like a mad group of Khornate Cultists.
Xenos?
Or daemons?
It mattered not what they were to Octavian, they were still going to fall broken at the feet of the Emperor's Angel of Death.
“FOR THE EMPEROR!” Roared Michael, and the small horses-no-ponies staggered at what they saw. A colossus adored in pitch black armour, save for a silver arm, covered in the blood of its victims....
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A shot rang out, and one of the ponies’ entire chest cavity exploded, in a cloud of blood, shattered bone, and torn flesh. The raiders were terrified, the strange beast’s pistol hit like a rocket launcher. With a leap, the massive behemoth landed into the thick of the cowering bandits, and begun to tear them limb from limb with what appeared to be a giant ripper.
The raider boss, a large buck named Shoot ‘n Stab, was literally pissing himself. A giant alien was cutting his hardened gang down as if they were little foals.
“Fuck you!” He yelled, and turned tail to run. A loud bang, and the most pain Shoot ever felt coursed up his spine. He looked behind him, and both of his legs were pulp. He was crying like a little colt, knowing that death was upon him.
A massive hand grabbed his throat, and he heard the beast say something that horrified the psychotic raider.
“Face your death with some courage, Xenos!” A tugging sensation, and a tearing sound were the last things that Shoot ‘n Stab ever knew......
Captain Michael Octavian was walking down an battered road, caring little for the shattered realm he was thrust upon, guard up and raring for battle.
His armor’s systems then picked up an odd VOX signal “These creatures use the technology of man?”
Perhaps I should listen in on these communications? A part of him protested the action, but he denied that request. The Captain tuned in to the signal, and was shocked to hear a male voice speaking in Low Gothic.
Good Evening Wasteland! This is your good friend and bearer of news, DJ-Pon-3!
An odd name, even odder that he speaks in the language of the common....
“I have reports of an alien traveling from the plains near New Appaloosa. Apparently the alien tore apart a notorious raider gang causing Hell for travelers in the area.”
“He knows of me already?!” Michael was shocked at this. “Perhaps these creatures have psykers among them?”
The very thought sickened him, If it proves true, he would have to be far more cautious.Psykers no matter the species are always a dangerous foe.
“So remember folks, if you are traveling near New Appaloosa, be on the lookout for the “Black Death.” And please, for your safety, do not attack it. This is DJ-Pon-3, your friend, signing off. And now, some music...”
“Black Death huh?” Said Michael, turning off the signal. “I shall show you the true meaning of that name soon enough.”
"Perhaps I should find some cover first, and some sustenance. It has been too long since I had last eaten."
Soon enough he had spotted a strange tree bearing even stranger fruit, standing crooked next to the ruins of an dilapidated xenos structure, not far from his current location.
“This architecture is quite similar to our own. How Odd.” Captain Octavian thought, moving ever closer towards the ancient farmhouse. Not long after, he had arrived. Michael walked up to the tree next to the ancient building, and began to pick the fruit. A quick scan of the area proved no threat of attack, so he release the locks on his helm. With a quick sniff of the gnarled food, the Astartes found nothing wrong with it.
"I would have to consume a number of these before I move out." He thought, taking a bite out the mutated apple.
But while he was filling his stomach with fruit, he had failed to notice the pony within the ruins, preparing to strike....
