WAAAGH!

by J-aimsmith

First published

Whilst recovering from Tirek's rampage, Ponyville—and indeed all of Equestria—receive a startling visit in the form of a powerful, terrifying, unstoppable alien warlord whose name drives fear into every race in the Galaxy: Ghazghkull

In it's most recent years, the Kingdom of Equestria has found itself fallen victim to a staggering number of potentially world-ending threats. By chance and the power of friendship however, all of them have been defeated and eliminated before they could topple the Ponies' diarchy, thus preventing the ending of the era of peace.

They've overcome a powerful, chaotic spirit; the wraith of an ancient, evil king; the might of an entire invasion from an army of shapeshifters; and the hellish fury of a demonic lord. However, nothing could prepare them for their newest threat.

Can harmony and friendship defeat the most feared being in the galaxy?

-------

*Warhammer 40K crossover*

-I OWN NOTHING-

Prologue: At the Cost of the Warp

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Prologue: At the Cost of the Warp








The bridge of the Ork Killa Krooza was scrambling with mekboyz and gretchins as they hastily prepared the ship for warp travel under the boss's orders. The sound of welding torches was drowned out by the raucous addition of wrenches and hammers hitting metal walls for apparently no reason. Sparks flew and smoke rose into the already musty air creating an unbearably foul stench that would've killed anything besides the Orks currently breathing it. The smaller, scrawnier gretchins hauled tools and boxes across the room as the mekboyz both set things up and occasionally delivered a swift blow to any of the puny gretchins whom they believed weren't doing their job right. Or, simply for the fun of it.

The inside of the once-Imperial cruiser they worked in was a far cry from its previously magnificent appearance. The slate grey color common of the Imperium of Man was now done over with rust and poorly painted black and white logos of the Goff klan: a bull skull with horns. The majority of the floor and walls that were missing had been haphazardly replaced with various plates of scrap metal and slag likely salvaged from other wrecked ships and ruined constructions that had fallen to the Orks' destructive temper.

The outside of the space-faring beast appeared no better. Huge plates of metal were amalgamated into the ship's structure in a crude, patchwork-like manner that glorified the Orks' lack of refinement in such a way as to turn their ship into an eyesore. However, Its subpar structure was compensated by the sheer quantities of ordinance and weaponry that crammed the outside of the machine. The top was abound with turrets, missile ports and other crude-but-deadly weaponry that jutted from the slag like pikes from a phalanx. Giant spikes and jagged horns all decorated the guns in a display of both intimidation and the power of the Goff klan—even further represented by the repainted black exterior and trademark white checkers common among the Goff klan. Even the ship's engine had been modified to be more 'Orky'. That being that the thrusters had been doubled in size and the flames they produced were much louder and brighter. But above all, undoubtedly the most terrifying and magnificent part of the ship was the huge, bullskull-shaped ram on the ship's fore end. Said ram was shaped to bend down the middle, creating an angled edge forward as the giant steel horns protruded outwards prepared to disembowel any enemy craft unlucky enough to be caught in a ramming maneuver.

Hundreds of smaller spacecraft and another pair of large kroozas surrounded the flagship, all built with a similar manner and color scheme entirely unique to every ship (there was no such thing as 'standard' when it came to the Orks). Each of these ships in turn carried hundreds of Orks for invasion, all eager for blood and a chance to kill. It was truly an awesome sight.

If one were to be unafraid of any of this (a doubtful claim), then the utterance of the name of the massive force's powerful leader would be more than enough to instill fear in the soul of any sentient being.




Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka




Some call him "The Prophet of the Waaagh!", others, "The Beast of Armageddon". But he is more commonly known as simply "Ghazghkull Thraka". The Warboss of the Goff klan with an insatiable appetite for war and conquer; an untold number of planets having fallen to his nearly unstoppable greenskin krusade. And after having waited on Golgotha for his forces to rebuild, he's set his sights once more on the Imperial hiveworld of Armageddon.

The Orks in the flagship's bridge heard the din of his footsteps coming long before he came within sight, causing all of those standing in front of the doorway to dash aside, furtively glancing at the entrance to the deck. From the depths of the ship's belly emerged a true monster: he stood 13 feet in height, clad in metal plate armor thick enough to bounce tank shells, and with a pair of bionic arms, one sporting a massive twin-barreled rocket launcher, the other, a powerful two-bladed claw that could split an armored space marine apart and flip a dump truck with ease. Behind him and to both sides were the infamous armor-clad veteran warriors of 'Da Goff Guard'.

"Get outta' da way, ya lil' grot!" His voice boomed as he swatted one of the comparably minuscule gretchins aside, sending him hurtling into the wall and raising a fit of discordant laughter from the larger Orks. He made his way to the front of the deck at a leisured pace before he collapsed his weight onto the huge metal chair proudly advertised upon it's back, "Da Kaptin's Char."

"You ther', get dis' naff hunk ov slag on it's way ta Armour-geddun, an' you signal da othas dat we's 'eadin out," he pointed his twin rocket launchers at a pair of mekboyz who stood next to the still sparking control panel, wires hanging out of its side in loose bunches. Without so much as thinking about disobeying they both immediately got to their tasks, cackling maniacally in excitement for the prospect of soon entering battle. "We's goin' ta show da 'ummies dat ther' lightsy-gunz can't stop da Waaagh! dat we's bringun um!" At these words the remaining mekboyz and nobz in the room exulted, pumping their choppaz and shootaz into the air with whilst laughing obstrepourously.

The vessel shuddered as the massive engines began to stir from their latest slumber, groaning deeply throughout the ship's interior. Ghazghkull smiled when he felt the familiar implications that the engine had powered up and was ready to be activated. "Well? Wot 're ya waitin' for?" He grumbled at the mekboyz sitting at the control panels, "We'z got a planet ta take!"

~--------&--------~

"Thanks for helping me clean all the vegetation off the walls of the castle, Applejack," Twilight gave an earnest thanks to her farmpony friend "If it weren't for you I never would have gotten that done today. The last time I tried that on my own I ended up tangling myself in the vines. Had spike not have been there, I'd have been in trouble."

Applejack waved her friend's gratitude off with a hoof. "I already told ya Twilight, it warn't no problem. Ain't that what friends do?" The pair proceeded down the path away from the everfree forest as the sun neared the end of it's decent to the horizon. The sky had already begun to turn orange with the fading of the day, indicating to the ponies that it was time to head home.

"Say, did ya happen ta get an invitation yesterday morning from Pinkie for a party at sugarcube corner?" Applejack decided to pass the walk home with a bit of small talk to hopefully encourage time to move a little quicker.

"Now that you mention it, yes. That's tonight isn't it?" Twilight was surprised that she could have actually forgotten something that would typically take a major place in one of her day's schedules. "I nearly forgot too!"

"Are ya gonna go? I'm kinda tuckered out, but I think it wouldn't hurt ta relax for a while." Applejack didn't mind having a little fun with her friends before retiring back at the farm. In fact, it was always a welcomed proposal.

"Well, I sure hope she's going!"

"EEK!" Twilight tensed up and spun around on her hooves to the face the intractable pink demon, prepared to castigate the hyper pony about personal space for the sixth time this week. "Pinkie Pie, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Because if she doesn't, she's really gonna miss out!" Pinkie Pie continued, entirely oblivious to her friend's blatant frustration, "And then she won't get any cake and she'll be all sad because she didn't get to see her friendsandinsteadwenthomeunhappyandwouldn'tbeabletosleepatallbecau—" Pinkie's uncontrollable rant was timely stopped by Applejack's hoof, leaving the pink mare muffled. Twilight was quickly relieved to find she wouldn't have to listen to the entire story and gave a smile of thanks to Applejack, who nodded in return.

"Now, Pinkie, Ah'm gonna let my hoof off of your mouth, and when Ah do that can Ah trust you to be quiet for a minute?" The pink pony put a hoof to her chin and contemplated this for a moment, causing a pang of dread to rise up in Twilight and Applejack. Fortunately for the two, the hyperactive pony finally nodded vigorously, prompting Applejack to release her grip.

"To answer your question, Applejack, yes. I indeed am going to Pinkie's party." Twilight also directed the answer to the party pony next to her.

"But does that mean that—"

"YES! It does mean I'm going to have cake and that I'll go to sleep happy because I spent time with my friends!" Twilight knew well ahead of time what the ironically unpredictable pony would say, cutting her off before she could dissolve into another rant.

"Yay!" Pinkie bounced into the air in time with her cheer, "In that case, I'll see you both there!" Before another word could be uttered from anypony, the rampant pink mare was gone just as she arrived: unexpectedly and instantaneously.

"Heh-heh-heh," Applejack laughed lightly, "Ah guess we better start headin' there, huh?"

Pinkie's familiar nature and Applejack's amusement to it brought a smile on Twilight's face as well. "Yeah, I guess we should."

~--------&--------~

"Boss, da engeen room'z goin' ta swak!" A lone mekboy charged into the quarters to warn the Warboss about their incoming trouble. "Ther'z daemons broke in!" Ghazghkull knew what that meant: They were going to have a fight, and there was nothing Ghazghkull—or any Ork—loved more than a fight.

The massive Ork leader growled and rose from his seat to prime his missle launchers. "Well, iz about bleedin' time somefing 'append around 'ere!" He chuckled deeply, "Boyz, get yer choppaz ready. We'z gotz us some daemon killin ta do!" The Orks around him cheered violently as they drew axes and guns and followed behind their leader, eager for a fight. Immediately Ghazghkull and the other Orks were rushing down the ship's halls to the site of the daemons' entrance. It had been far too long since Ghazghkull had gotten the chance to rip something in half. Now he couldn't contain his excitement as he eagerly snapped his bionic claws shut again and again.

The sounds of the nearby skirmish grew as the Orks neared the engine room. Gunfire, yelling and rumbling echoed down the halls only serving to further excite the battle-ready greenskins. Much of the rest of the ship's crew was already rushing towards the site of the ongoing battle—orders weren't necessary for an Ork to enter a fight. It was as natural as eating or sleeping.

Realizing that the door to the engine room was battered to the point of being unworkable, Ghazghkull fired a rocket into it, tearing the steel door off the wall in a thunderous explosion. Without wasting a moment, he and the other greenskins rushed through the jagged metal doorway and into the utter havoc that the engine room had dissolved into. Limbs and blood scattered the floor so thick as to create a second surface of bodily materials: most of which comprised that of the daemons who were currently getting the worst of the scrimmage. Easily a hundred mindless blobs of flesh known as nurglings currently rushed towards the boyz at the forefront of the fighting, all being led by twenty or so plaguebearers who were having a far more successful time killing Orks than their cannon fodder infantry.

Many of the nurglings were torn to peices by the thick torrents of gunfire coming from the shootaboyz on the catwalks above. They held their triggers tightly, blazing their weapons in an entirely unrestricted manner down unto the daemon horde, seemingly without an end to their ammunition supplies. Those boyz only armed with choppaz would leap off the railings and straight into combat with the daemons below.

"Get outta da way!" Ghazghkull and his pack of Goff Guard Nobz shoved their way through the smaller greenskins and to the head of the fighting at hand. With only one swing of his bionic arm Ghazghkull knocked aside ten of the little flesh-blobs. Those that were fortunate enough to miss being launched by the strength of his swing were utterly smashed beneath his metal-clad boots like insects. Still though, they threw themselves aimlessly into the wall of axes and sharpened claws.

Within minutes, the Orks' crew had annihilated the demon horde, scavanging their remains for trophies, scrap parts and "anyfing shiny". Ghazghkull lifted up the last of the plaguebearers in his claws—the rotting beast still struggling to fight the overpowering Ork—and swiftly slammed him down, slicing the daemon into peices. "Dat'z it den? Dat was all uv 'em?!" Ghazghkull roared, unsatisfied with his pointlessly short fight, "I'z seen packs uv grotz put up bet'r fightz den dis!" He insulted the daemons.


*KER-BANG*


From the hole in the ship's wall came a massive impact that shook the entirety of the krooza's hull. All of the greenskins turned their heads to the source of the loud bang, both eager and nervous.

"Boss, ther'z somefing grabbed onto da krooza!" A mekboy shouted from the catwalks above.

"Wot do ya meen 'ther'z somefing' on da krooza?" Grumbled Ghazghkull.


*KER-BANG*


Again, the loud strike resounded through the ship.


*KER-SCREECH*


With the third impact came the loud, ear-splitting noise of metal being bent beyond its limits and snapping. The disgusting head of a being from the darkest of nightmares poked itself through the hole it had created, scanning eagerly for a new 'friend' to play with. Immediately the Orks began firing on the creature, but it remained entirely unflinching from any of the rounds that struck it. Excitedly, it forced its way through the metal, revealing its foul, disease ridden form to the entirety of the crew.

Its body was long and slug-like, dripping all around with a thick, fetid slime that clung to anything it touched and was packed with paralytic poisons. Its large, revolting body was balanced on stubby fins that bore huge claws; from it's back protruded a large tail that wagged back-and-forth with an ignorant glee, like that of a puppy's; from its head sprouted tubular tentacles emitting acidic substances that gradually dissolved everything around it and noxious gases that caused any of the Orks who inhaled them to vomit profusely; and from its open, tooth-ridden maw hung a lolling tongue that dripped with saliva. This was a beast that none of the Orks had ever encountered before. Especially Ghazghkull, having fought daemons in the warp numerous times.

Immediately the beast languidly slid its way towards the nearest Ork—entirely ignoring the intense gunfire it received—and despite the boy's attempt to flee, he was quickly wrapped up by the creature's legs. The daemon happily licked its newest friend affectionately, entirely unaware that its potent paralysis-based mucus was slowly rendering him frozen. Even still it joyfully rubbed itself against the weakly struggling Ork, brushing its acid-covered head back and forth against him in such a way as a cat to its master. In only a few moments its newest friend had stopped moving, though the beast felt a twinge of sadness that it's friend no longer wanted to play, its attention was drifted to all the other fun-looking Orks around it.

The creature moved forward, the gases and acids it emitted killed off the Orks it passed, regardless if it touched them or not. As the creature found another playmate, the nearby Orks were vomiting too heavily to continue shooting at the thing, leaving their fellow to become prey to the playful horror. The creature kept up its momentum, grasping and smothering Ork, after Ork. Despite the constant stream of bullets directed to it, it remained unaffected by the damage.

"I'z 'ad enuf uv dis gaff daemon! 'As a stikkbomb to play wif, ya git!" One of the shootaboyz retrieved a crude stick-grenade from his belt and pulled the pin, hurling the basic explosive at the daemon with incredible speed. The grenade landed right next to the creature's feet—which also happened to be close to one of the ship's vital energy generators.

"Oh, you weedy idiot!" Ghazghkull's last words were drowned out by the deafening explosion that tore the creature's belly open, but also ripped a hole in the side of the now intensely overheating generator. The ship shuddered as the energy generator caused the nearby ones to simultaneously malfunction with it, damaging the ship's already crude electrical systems. The ship tore a hole in the warp abruptly, rapidly dumping it back into the materium and hurtling straight towards a bright, green and blue planet that's gravity was serving to only further accelerate the ship's arrival to the surface.

~--------&--------~

"See ya, Rarity!" Pinkie smiled and waved to her friend as she held the door open.

"Goodnight, Pinkie, dear." Rarity departed back to her home with a smile on her face. Glad to have spent time with her friends

"Later, Rainbow Dash!"

"Great party, Pinkie, catch you around!" Rainbow Dash sped off for the night as well, ready to head home for some much-needed rest.

"Bye Applejack, hope you had fun!" Pinkie Pie held her jubilant expression as her farmer friend exited the building.

"Ah sure did Pinkie. But if ya don't mind, Ah'm gonna wait for Twilight."

"Oki-doki-loki!" The pink mare nodded vigorously. "Have a good night, Fluttershy!"

"Actually, Pinkie Pie, I'm going to wait with Applejack." The shy pony smiled more openly considering her rather joyful evening. "Since my house is on the way and everything..."

"Oki-doki-loki!" Pinkie simply repeated the affirmative phrase to her other friend, never one to care about repetition.

Lastly Twilight came through the door, having cleaned up a little at her own volition. "Goodnight, Pinkie. Thanks for the party!" She spoke as she passed through the doorway.

"Oooh! Hey, Twilight, when did you learn a coat-color spell!" Pinkie Pie's unusual question came without any warning, catching the newly crowned princess off guard. Though the question confused her, she decided to answer it anyway.

"Pinkie, I haven't cast any coat-colo..." Twilight craned her neck around to see that her body was indeed aglow with a bright orange hue that she took no part in the nature of. Glancing back to her friend she realized that the left half of everything around her was bathed in the same orange light. "What in the hay is this?"

"Ah think a better question would be, 'what is that'." Twilight turned around to the response of the cow-pony and saw both her and Fluttershy staring into the sky. Following their gazes she saw something that looked like a massive, orange shooting star far above the clouds in the atmosphere. Its velocity was so incredibly slow that she didn't know what it could have possibly been. If it were a shooting star, it would have been moving far faster, but if it were some sort of comet, it wouldn't have been orange. But ruling out any possible explanation she had was the fact that this anomalous object was so intensely bright that it was casting shadows on everything.

Fluttershy squeaked out what little she could manage, "O-Oh dear..."