In the grim dark future there is only... Harmony? A twisted ride through the 40k universe pony style
As the Eye of Discord hovers menacingly over the warrior world of Pegusa, an anomaly starts to appear across all the auspexs and thousands of magiksters's begin to cry out and go mad as their minds are over whelmed by a massive ex-flux of energy. It can only mean one thing, Discord the Arch-Enemy, the Great Foe has unleashed another Black Crusade on all that is good and harmonious in the Imperium of Equines. It will be up to an elite squad of Equsticus Mastartes the Space Mareines to put an end to the unleashing of untold horrors of the warp. Her chosen Daughters, Command Squad Element, of the Ultramareines, lead by Sister Captain Applina Jacqueline (Applejack) and Librarian Twilight Sprakella (TS) will lead the defense of the strategically significant Pegusian Gate the only true route from the Eye into the Imperium. Along with the remaining members of the squad, Chaplin Pinkamina Diane (Pinkie), Empress's Champion Rainboutia Dashina (RD), Techmareine Rariti Marenous (Rarity) and Apothomare Fluttica Shywing (Fluttershy), as well as the regiments of the Pegusian Equine Guard and a Naval flotilla, will they have to hold out until reinforcements arrive, can it be enough? What could the heretics and witches of Discord unleash through the Eye?
I would like to Thank Little Kingdom for taking time out of her busy school schedule to edit my story. She will be edititng everything from chapter 3 on!! Brohoof /)
It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Empress has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Equestria. She is the master of ponykind by the will of the gods, and mistress of a million worlds by the might of her inexhaustible armies. She is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. She is the Carrion Lady of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that she may never truly die.
Yet even in her deathless state, the Empress continues her eternal vigilance. Mighty battle fleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the warp, the only route between the distant stars, there way lit by the Astroharmonicon the magikal manifestation of Her will. Vast armies give battle in her name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst her soldiers are the Equestus Marestartes the Space Mareines, bio-engineered super-warrior mares. Their comrades in arms are legion; the Equine Guard and countless planetary defense forces, the ever vigilant Equinistion and the tech- ponies Equestus Marechanicus to only name but a few. But for all their multitudes they are barely enough to hold off the ever- present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants-and worse.
To be a pony in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live during the kindest and most bloody regimes imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget hatred and progress, for in the grim dark future there is only harmony through war. There is only a false peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter and the laughter of thirsting gods.
A young lieutenant Earth pony was galloping down the side toward the command bunker. All of Capital City was under Marshall Law as of zero nine hundred hours Imperial and the streets were deserted so he had little opposition to his personal marathon. He was panting heavily and perspiration damped his dark mane and coat, and soaked through the joints of his khaki fatigue jacket. His collar pins bore the rank of a Lieutenant first class and a subdued Harmonia the holy symbol of Her divinity in the galaxy. It was a symbol of two Alicorns one black and one a dirty golden colour rising and lowering a blackend moon and a dirty golden sun as she had done on holy Equestria. A large silver MI inside a laurel wreath badge on his beret made him out as a member of the intelligence division. He had to hurry still the stallion he was to deliver these dispatches too was not anypony to keep waiting. As he approached the tactica control bunker he slowed to a stop adjusted his coat and beret and entered. He made his way down the winding corridors past the control rooms and toward the main conference room he knew lay just around the corner. Stood staring at the metal blast door and peered inside through the bullet proof glass and saw the meeting he was hoping to avoid had already begun.
‘Empress’s blood’ he swore and bit his hoof, a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. If he interrupted he might be shot but if he did not pass on his message he would be shot. He summoned his Pegisian courage and opened the door, he entered quietly and no one abet a steely eyed Commaresar seemed to notice him. He walked to end of the table where the recipient of the dispatch was seated examining a hololithic, three dimensional display of Pegisia floated in the middle of the table. Another Earth pony, a mare with steel blue eyes, a light tan coat and black short cut mane with a large pink stripe through it, was pinpointing areas where the rebellious cultists of Discord had hit the hardest with their terrorism. She was wearing the same khaki fatigues as every Pegusian Guard would be, with the rank of a Colonel on her collar. He sighed to himself good He wasn’t talking you do not interrupt a stallion like Him when he spoke. The colt cleared his throat as he approached him holding out the data wafer which carried the report on it. He raised his hoof up in the Lieutenant’s face and he abruptly stopped and the old stallion stood to face him. He stood tall for a Pegasus pony at least five feet, he was barrel chested and muscular tone could be seen from under his khaki fatigues. A series of ugly scars across his face spoke of countless bouts won and lost and his wing where the same. He wore five polished brass stars on the collar of his frock coat with an overly polished brass Harmonia on the other. The cloak he wore over his back was lined with fine red silk on the inside but was a gruff olive drab on the outside, a testament of the Pegausian warrior mentality, always ready for a war. The fur of some unknown beast adorned the collar and the clasp was the only symbol of his authority a golden Harmonia. His mane was short, neatly tapered, fiery red with a few streaks of silver through it and his bread was as neatly trimmed and the same red with white as his mane, but his eyes the colour of molten metal burned with a passion and a will which only could be held by one stallion. With his twin hel-pistols and a power sabre hanging from his waist he truly looked like a hero from legend. This was The Lord Castellan, Field Marshal Gillmane Redlord named after the illustrious Matriarch Rainboute Gillimane of the Ultramareines, and he was not amused.
‘This,’ he pointed to the data wafer in the colts’ mouth, ‘if this is so bloody important it had better worth your life for interruptin' a war council, MY war council Lieutenant.’ His voice was gruff from years of yelling orders on the battle field but it still retailed all the authority he had earned. The steely eyed Commaresar stepped forward and racked a bolt pistol he took from its holster under his storm coat. The Lieutenant swallowed hard and gave the wafer to an aid who then made their way over to a control lectern and inserted the wafer into a data slot. A new image appeared over the table it was of Pegusia and the other planets in the system as well as the Eye of Discord. As the image flicked into life a few of the assembled officer gasped and made symbols of the Harmonia with their hoofs in the air. Gillimane cleared his throat to get them to calm and return to the matter at hoof.
‘Why?’ is all he asked as he looked to the terrified Lieutenant for an explanation.
‘My lord,’ his voice was trembling as he began to punch codes into another lectern closer by, ‘You see here by the data shown that has been an increase in warp energies coming from the Eye. This indicates an approaching warp storm of unheard of proportions,’ he made to continue but was stopped by the Colonel from earlier,
‘Does this have anything to do with the recent uprising and rouge magikster activity we have been dealing with lately?’ She was curious but kept her expression completely professional.
‘ Yes ma'am it also confirms what we ffear,’ He started to stammer and he took a deep breath, ‘we fffear tthhat the levels of energy and cultist activity are constant with those of the last… um….’ He couldn’t do it, he took of his beret and ran a hoof over his mint green and white mane, he breathed deeply and looked back up all eyes were on him now. He again mustered his courage and spoke, ‘The energy level are constant with the last Black Crusade.’ Groans and gasps filled the room, muttered conversations and side bars took over, and an officer fainted on the spot. Gillimane was silent staring at the holographic Eye in the center of the room his hoofs together as he thought. Finally after a few chaotic seconds he raised his hoof. The Colonel whistled and again the room grew silent as they saw their leaders’ gesture. Gillimane stood and stared into the eyes of his assembled military leaders he spoke.
‘Mares and Gentle-Colts, you will return to your respective divisions and white shields and begin preparations of an invasion,’ he spoke as if it was just another practice drill, another day in the office, ‘Admiral Starborn,’ a pale blue Earth pony stood he the only one at the conference not dressed in the khaki of the Pegusians but the dark green of the Equian Navy. His pale complexion told the story of how he got his name, he was void born, and probably had been on a ship all his life. His dark mane was neatly pulled back into a short pony tail and a power sabre hung around his waist he looked at the Lord Militant and waited his instructions, ‘You will return to the flotilla and keep on guard of any signs of renegades or pirate raids, we will be needin' escorts soon from the outlyin' systems how many ships can you spare?’
‘About four cruisers are all I can manage my lord.’ The he replied
‘It will do for now, dismissed,’ the admiral bowed and left with his two aides behind him. ‘Colonel Steelgrip!” He turned and faced another stallion a Pegasus with the violet eyes of a common born Pegusian and a hunter green coat his head was completely shaven and when he stood it revealed an augmentic foreleg and hoof both larger than a standard pony. His lightning bolt rank insignia made him out to be a commander of the elite of Pegusian ground forces the Kasrcolts.
‘By your leave my lord,’ he bowed in fealty.
‘I want these rebellions squashed understood?’ he glared the storm-trooper down
‘Aye sir! We’ll be in and out like lighting.’ He saluted and quickly made his way out of the door.
‘Everyone else you know your jobs now chop to it!’ He barked and all the assembled ponies made their way to the exits. The fainted pony begin drug by his adjutant As the young Lieutenant made too leave Gillimane put a hoof out to stop him. ‘Where do you think you’re off to lad?’ The Lieutenant swallowed but didn't say anything the Commaresar was busy at the door with the female Colonel he hoped that his involvement wasn't what the Lord Castellan wanted. ‘What’s your name son?’ he finally asked.
‘Lieutenant First Class Heartstrings Lyre,’ he blurted rather loud and nervously, ‘Mission Intelligence Division, third t-.’ Gillimane held up a hoof and looked the colt up and down his green fur was just a shade darker than his mint green mane which had a white stripe down one side. It was shaggy but well kept he wouldn't discriminate against it. His eyes are what struck out the most one was as golden as the winter wheat while the other was starkly as red as blood. He knew he liked this colt instantly.
‘You’re not MI any more son,’ Gillimane half smiled at the colt’s confused expression, ‘now you work for me.” He laughed throatily as Lyre’s mouth dropped. ‘I need a new adjutant mine was just killed in warp transient, sad, sad news, he was good but you got balls walkin’ in here durin' MY war council,’ he slapped Lyre on the back of the neck, ‘and I like that in a young buck Major.’
‘Major?!? I’m no-!!’ Lyre was flabbergasted by this he didn’t know what to do or say.
‘You are now! I’ll drum up the paper work and make it so!’ He began to make his way out of the room and met up with the female general, ‘Heartstrings!’ He shouted back to the almost catatonic former lieutenant he looked over and ‘This is going to be you new boss besides me, meet Colonel Bonnelly.” His gaze went from Gillimane to the female general and his jaw resumed dropping again. It was like it was the first time he saw her and to him she gave the air of beautiful and deadly she shot daggers through as she made her way out and the blast door slammed shut. Lyre stood there for a moment and just looked into the holographic representation of the Eye, he cursed it and made his way to leave to conference room. But he wasn’t last one to leave a the steely eyed Commaresar had watched everything from the shadows and now stepped out from his hiding place the door slide back open and Gillimane re-entered with a glassy eyed unicorn mare she swayed and spun around the room almost as if elated to be there.
‘You sure it wise to bring her near even a hologram of the Eye?’ The Commaresar spoke.
‘I do, she may be able to link with it just enough and if not,' He smiled as he looked at the Commaresar, 'that’s why you’re here…’ Gillimane watched the unicorn continue her ballet of the unholy until… ‘She’s stopped,’ he said, both ponies stared and the Commaresar pulled out his bolt pistol and racked it. He approached the magikster witch slowly from behind.
‘It wants, it needs….” The unicorn said dreamily as she stared at the Eye
‘It wants and needs what witch?’ Barked the Commaresar
‘Blood for the Blood god….’ She screeched and the room got cold as lighting came from her horn and hoof she cackled madly she spun into the air and unleashed her hell storm into every corner.
‘Commaresar end this bitch!!!’ Screamed Gillimane dodging lighting attacks, the Commaresar leveled his bolt pistol at the unicorn and squeezed off five rounds. His shots hit true blowing off one leg, most of the torso, and finally her head. Gore and brain matter coated the walls hissing and burning against it, almost as though it was acidic to these Empress blessed walls. ‘Well… that escalated quickly…’ Gillimane stated brushing himself off. His eyes drifted over to the remains of the witch and then at the Commaresar who was cleaning brain and blood off his peaked cap.
‘Well my lord did you glean anything from that?’ He stated as he re-donned his cap and preceded to holster his weapon.
‘Only that whatever is coming through the Eye this time, the Guard of Pegusa won’t be able to stop it…. Alone that is.’ He pointed at a small blinking auspex reading in the corner of the image he enlarged by pressing a series of keys on the control lectern. The data that showed as he increased the readings’ size it was a Marestartes Battle Barge, Element of Harmony and that it belonged to Third Company of the Ultramareines. More importantly it was only two days flight from Pegusa. ‘Commaresar I believe this coming War just got winnable….’ Gillimane and the Commaresar stared at the blip on the holograph.
She prayed as she had prayed a thousand times before. She knew that She was listening, She always listened to them, especially her. It was almost as if she was her favorite… She scoffed it was silly of her to be so conceded in that manner the Empress listened to all her subjects either magik or not. She sighed as she stood then muttered, ‘Let them bestride the galaxy like the gods of old…’
‘Sheltering Ponykind from destruction at the hands of an uncaring universe.’ A familiar voice echoed behind her as the sound of war-plated hooves rang across the stone floor of the Chapel. She rose from the floor and turned to face her Battle Sister and Captain. The mare wore the blue battle armour of their noble chapter with the horse shoe chapter emblem on her right pauldron and her combat-mark, three ruby red apples, adorned her other. The similarities of her armour stopped there, the borders of her armour where gilded along with a huge golden harmonia embossed into her chest plate. Her true symbol of authority lay with Laurel attached to the back of her armour behind her head. It gave the illusion of her having a halo from the Empress. Her helmet was removed revealing her face and mane. The latter was a beautiful golden blonde and her fur a handsome orange. It was her eyes however that set her out the most the striking emerald colour it was how she got one of her many epithets “The Emerald Angel.” Her helmet was clipped to her battle bet next to a well wore bolt pistol and long-sword. As the Warrior pony approached her sister near the altar she observed the seemingly pennant pony. She wore her simple purple robes the same colour of her coat with her combat-mark, a large pink star surrounded by five smaller silver ones, on the front. Her mane, or what was left of it, was jet black with a pink and purple stripe down the bangs which hung over her deep purple irises, irises that flickered and twitched with her untold power. Her hood was up so she could cover the series of nightmarish and ugly cerebral implants and cables which allowed her to control her massive magik potential and keep out the haranguing voices of Discord. ‘Librarian Twilight, if I had known that the Sisters of the Librarium prayed to the Matriarch for guidance…’ began the new mare,
‘We do not pray,’ quickly snapped the Librarian, ‘We indulge for answers from the Beacon and they are given. Nothing more Captain Applinia.’ She wasn’t supposed to pray but she did and she shot daggers through her Captain at her revealing her taboo. Applinia returned the glare until she snickered hard and burst out laughing. Twilight joined her in her reverie as the existed the Chapel together.
‘Sometimes you think you are so clever Twi.’ Applinia chuckled as the made there down one of the many hallways of the battle barge Element of Harmony. The ship itself was built in order hold the entire Third Company as a result it was a city in the stars, at least three hundred kilometers long by one hundred kilometers wide. Dozens of training bays and hundreds of sleep quarters lined the hallway they now walked, inside these rooms could be seen the Daughters of the Empress her gene-code made living again sparring, cleaning newly assigned weapons, or shadow dueling to hone their individual styles of combat. One such mare in the deep cobalt, gilded custom armour of the company champion was circling a combat servitor, armed with six deadly weapon-arms, on her hind legs. Clutched in her fore hooves were the Honour Blades, a Broadsword and Poniard set only presented to an Empress’ Champion. Their crackling discharge and vibrant hum of power could be heard from the other side of the room. Applinia placed a hoof in front of Twilight and motioned for her to observe the display. She had her back to them so she could not have noticed them watching, but Twilight suspected that the mare already knew they were observing. The servitor lunged with a spinning saw blade attachment striking out wildly. She dodged and parried all the attacks and with one fluid motion severed the arm itself with a flourish of her broadsword. She lept into the air as the servitor shot out a stream of fire from a flamer attachment on another one of its five remaining arms and with the skill and grace expected of a Champion she landed on her hind legs back swung her broad sword and severed the automaton in twain. She had ended on bended-knee and rose on her back legs sheathing her blades and falling back on all fours. She turned and faced the duo standing in the door
‘Such an uninteresting adversary if it were not for the fact I had to make sure these calibrations where absolute I would have never bothered facing it.’ Her vox grille made her voice sound regal and imposing as if she was talking down to them but both knew it was not so. ‘Sister Rariti has truly out done herself though,’ She removed her helm, ‘I moved flawlessly.’ She smiled smugly at her accomplishment. Empress’s Champion Rainboute Dashina had started as a simple weather pony on Marecragge. Her full potential was revealed during a gladiatorial tournament to decide possible candidates for the Ultramareines Chapter. Her natural competitiveness lead her to try out and eventually win, defeating or killing everyone her opponents. She made it to the final round a three way bought which she decapitated one of her oppentes with her bare hoofs in her blind bloodlust. She quickly out shined every pony of her scout squad and rose quickly to Assault Mareine status. She became the favorite of the Chapter Mistress and was quickly made Empress’s Champion of Third Company where she continued to improve upon her already impressive combat history. She had set a new company record during the campaign on Corn V accruing one hundred and fifteen kills over the course of the action, almost out shining Chaplin Pinkaminas’ single handed killing of a Greater Daemon of Discord.
"Whilst we stand, we fight. Whilst we fight, we prevail. Nothing shall stay our wrath. No opponent is worth less than the last. Remember the less of foes may be the one to kill you." Applinia said sagely as Rainboute approached the duo. Twilight took a minute examine her, she was very bit what you would expect from a young champion, beautiful by normal pony standards her brilliant cyan fur didn’t even have a single bead of sweat on it even though the temperature in the hall was substantially higher than the rest of the ship. Her rainbow coloured mane is why she received her name at birth as the Matriarch bore the same distinctive mane colours. Her eyes where a striking rose, a byproduct of the gene-seed implantation surgeries conducted during the indoctrination trials. Many pennant sisters claimed she was the spitting image of the Matriarch. With her combined features it was surely a true statement. Her armour colour was a deeper cobalt than other Ultramareines and it was also more lavish than Applinia’s. Gold trim edged the plates while purity seals and honour marks hung all over from her pauldrons. On her chest plate was the holy Harmonia the symbol of the Imperium cast in gold. Her wings where equally cased in ceramite plating and the compact jump pack was much less bulky than a standard issue assault mareines. As with all the others she bore the Chapter emblem on her right pauldron and her combat-mark on the other, a golden thunder cloud shooting out a rainbow lighting blot cast in ruby, sapphire, and yellow diamond. She expelled an air of sureness and confidence and she approached. Reaching to embrace her sisters she noticed they stopped and looked at each other, back to her, then back to each other as if unsure to except. Rainboute started to withdraw as though wounded by the sentiment and her face visibly sank. Applinia was the first to break out chuckling and grabbed her sister in a tight embrace only given between two mares who had forged a bond in slaughter and combat. Twilight followed suite if just a little more reserved, she did not know Rainboute the way Applinia did. The laughter continued until another pony cleared their throat from across the room. No pony had even noticed the Tech-Mareine hidden near the back of the chamber as they were focused on Rainboute’s bought with the servitor. As she approached the group though all attention was turned to her.
‘Of course there’s the lovely mare now…’ Rainboute stated sarcastically.
‘Rainboute is too kind in her accolades... And her boasting,’ stated Rariti analytically. Her terminator armour, the deep crimson of her calling, clanked against the deck plating. Like those around her she had removed her helmet so they could see her face. Rariti’s deep purple mane was elegant and perfect, as was everything she did, and her snow white coat was absolutely pristine, a surprise given her trade. As she walked her mechendrites moved about bringing data slates to her face as she confirmed her suspicions. Her diamond coloured eyes sparkled with the data she was absorbing as quickly as one drank water, thanks to her series of implants the Marechanicus had given her upon becoming a Tech-Mareine. As the Company Tech Adept it was her job to oversee the ritual maintenance of all of the vehicles the company could field. Though she was known to dabble in building her own inventions and improving upon the already seemingly perfect, her own armour was a testament to that. Besides the mechendrites which allowed multitasking, it allowed her to teleport short distances and increased her strength by four times that of the average Mareine. It was bedecked with a shoulder mounted plasma cannon and two gauntlet mounted stormbolters. All of the Company was also pretty sure she had other tricks no pony had yet to see. Her combat-mark was three perfectly cut diamonds to display her need of perfection and in place of the chapter emblem her other pauldron bore the symbol of the Marechanicus. A pony’s skull bisected with one half heavely augmented in honour of the Ommaresiah, the Empress in Machine form. Rariti disliked this side of her religion and opted for more pony like implants behind her eyes and under the skin of her ears. She held up a data slate with her mechendrite, ‘As you can plainly see by my calculations her reaction time was off by point three four seconds during the initial assault and here,’ she scrolled to a new page with her mechendrite, ‘Her landing caused a tissue degradation ratio of point five three to the knees!’ She gasped and press her face to Twilights, ‘Point five three!! If that continues at this rate, which it will increase rapidly given the factor “It’s Dash”,’ The aforementioned pony pouted a little, ‘her knee’s will be all but useless in…. three hundred and seventy four years!!!’ She gasped harder. ‘This is… THE… WORST… POSSIBLE… THING!!!’
‘Please Sister calm yourself, what is the probability of any of us lasting that long anyway?” Twilight stated. As Rariti moved to answer her, Dash placed a hoof over her mouth,
‘I’m sure that was hypothetical am I wrong sister?” Twilight just shook her head. They all had a little laugh and left the chamber, but not before Rariti called in servitors to come cleanup Dash’s mess. As they made to leave down the hall a transmission came through for Applinia on her surgically implanted microbead and she pressed her hoof to her ear.
‘This is Applinia go ahead,’ the other three had stopped chatting and turned to face their noble Captain, ‘affirmative, I will gather the Squad and arrive on the command deck in thirty minutes, Applinia out!’ She barked quickly to bring the subject to a close and turned to face her Squad Sisters, ‘It seems the Pegusians wish to make contact with us on the bridge via the Navy and long range vox.’
‘Most troubling. Are they under invasion?’ Asked Rariti a look of mild concern on her face.
‘Impossible!' Dash interjected. 'We would have known long ago,’ Dash turned to her Captain, ‘right?’ she added
‘It is actually a possibility that marauders slipped past us, but I doubt that is the meaning.’ Applinia stated matter-of-factly, ‘only way to find out is head to the bridge though.’ The group then turned and started to make their way to the bridge and Dash placed a hoof to her ear as Applinia had done.
‘Sister Fluttica come in its Dash…’ A few moments of silence and a soft but firm voice came over the net,
‘Fluttica here, send it.’ She responded
‘Grab Chaplin Pinkamina and meet us on the Command Bridge we are being hailed by the Pegusians through the Navy.’
‘Consider it done Dash!’ She replied in an excited squeak.
‘Roger, Dash out.’ And with that the conversation ended, ‘Flutters and Pinkie are on their way to the bridge we should be able to meet them there.’ Dash stated to the group.
‘Good I want them to see what’s going on.’ Applinia replied in her usual manner.
‘Sister Captain,’ Twilight made to speak but suddenly changed her mind.
‘Yes?’ Applinia turned to look at her good friend and Twilight quickly looked forward,
‘Nothing it can wait.’ Applinia noticed that Twilight had been acting different all day and made a mental not to ask her later.
As the four ponies made their to the command bridge there were no more hails over the vox and the trip was otherwise, uneventfully dull much to Dash’s’ dismay. Only when the opened the blast door to the command deck did she begin to get excited again. The command deck itself was not much to look at, darkly light and the walls painted black it gave off a very marshal air about it like this was a ship prepared for only war and bringing the Empress’s justice to her enemies. Control stations with busy serf-ponies manning the various auspex and systems of the ship lined the wall and the far end sat the ships command throne. A large hololithic console stood just before the command throne and this is where another mare stood. Dash approached the black terminator armoured mare standing staring into the three dimensional display of the system, minus the Eye. If her Combat mark of three different coloured spiked balls on chains didn’t give her identity way her cracked Grinning Skull war helm was all the conformation anyone need to know that this… This was Chaplin Pinkamina Diane Scourge of Daemons, Jester of Death, and The Grinning Doom. Dash was always in awe by her presence, as was the whole group when the rest approached. It was hard to believe that not even one century ago a bubbly, smiling, young daughter of a rock farmer on Marecragge entered an Ultramareine Recruiting Tournament and killed every combatant in the most brutal fashions imaginable on the first day. She turned to face her comrades and embraced each as Dash and Applinia had earlier.
‘Sisters, it is wonderful to see you all well,’ the menacing red optics of her Grinning Skull locked with Twilights purple irises, ‘Sister Twilight I heard you were in my Chapel earlier may I inquire as to why?’
‘Well… I needed some guidance I suppose.’ Her answer was a half-truth and all present knew it, but Pinkamina backed off after her answer was given and nothing more was said on the matter.
‘Where is Fluttica?’ Inquired Dash looking around noticing her absence.
‘Apothomare Shywing is below assisting the vox operator,’ Pinkamina’s helmets’ vox grille made her voice sound regal and yet chilling like death itself, ‘apparently I am too abrasive for the serf-ponies.’ She stood on her hind legs while dialing in the coordinates of Pegusa into the control lectern. Fluttica appeared coming up the stairs leading from the menial deck almost as if on que a moment later. The boots of her pristine snow white power armour tolled on the metal deck plating as she approached the group of her Sisters. Like most of the command squad she wore no helmet and it was resigned to being clipped to her battle belt. Her pastel pink mane and yellow fur gave her the illusion of being soft without needing to touch her. Her left eye had been replaced by a harsh augmentic “bale eye” after it was ripped out on Corn V by a Hog Nob. The unblinking red sharply contrasted with the gorgeous blue of her natural eye colour and many of the company veterans have claimed that she could calm anything in this galaxy with her stare alone. Like all the others she bore her combat-mark on her left pauldron, it was three pink butterflies which no one to this day understood what it meant or stood for.
‘Good Evening Sisters.’ Her voice was soft and lovely it sounded as though spring and been called through her lungs. She did not move to embrace any of them and quietly took up her position next to Pinkamina as Applinia gave the order for the transmission to be opened. At first nothing happened and then the hololithic display flickered and shut off completely.
‘What is the meaning of this?!?’ Pinkaminia’s voice boomed from her vox grille.
‘Shipmaster Delyla Hooves I want an answer,’ this time it was Applinia and it was apparent that the irritation in her voice was the irritation of the squad, ‘now Shipmaster!’
The control throne spun around and a grey Pegasus pony dressed in chapter colours with a blond mane and amber eyes, that where for some reason wall eyed which seemed to be due to her current status of being hooked to the ship itself via her neural implants, stared in the general direction of the squad… sort of.
‘I just don’t know what went wrong!?!’ She sounded panicked and began to move large portions of data in front of her face via hololithic display, ‘Here found the fault!’ She clicked two small squares and the transmission opened up with the head of Field Marshal Gillimane appearing on the display.
‘Battle barge Element of Harmony this is Field Marshal Redlord Governor Militant of Pegusa. Is anyone there?’ The holographic head spoke to the squad.
‘I am Capitan Applinia Jacqueline of the Ultramareines what is your message Governor?’ She replied for the group.
‘First my lady please Gillimane is fine, second we have received reports that the Archenemy is coming out of the Eye again for another Black Crusade,’ His face even though a hologram was very grave, ‘We beg of you to come to our aid.’ Applinia’s blood froze in her veins,
Another Crusade Empress help us… she thought
‘Gillimane we shall assist you there is no need to beg, we are Ultramareines from which all others were born. We would sooner let the warp take us than abandon any part of the Imperium. We will meet and talk when we make planet fall. ’
‘The Empress Protects,’ Gillimane’s head stated his features where more relaxed now, ‘Thank you Gillimane out.’ And the transmission ended. Applinia turned to face her sisters and friends.
‘Sisters!! We march to War!!’ Applinia shouted standing up on her hind legs and throwing her hoof into the air the assembled squad copied her and cheered their approval,
‘We march for Marecragge!’ Pinkamina cried through her vox grille
‘And they shall know no fear!!’ The Squad replied as they raised their right hooves into the air.
The Squad had left the command deck a least a half an hour ago, but to Twilight it felt like a fortnight as she stood, her eyes transfixed the hololithic display of the Pegusian Gate. Millions of tiny stars twinkled and danced around the only series of entrenched defenses that made up the gate, as well as the only habitable planet.
‘Pegusa…’ She sighed, mouthing the word, almost silently, to herself. Her eyes grudgingly slipped over to the Eye itself, and she enlarged the image to better study it. As she stared into its swirling depths a strange numbness began to engulf her senses. It was almost as if the Eye was staring back into the depths of her instead, like it piercing through her very core, her very essence. Even now she could feel a cold shade seeping into her thoughts. She quickly deactivated the control lectern, and the hologram shrank into the display. She broke into a cold sweat, wiped it away with her forehoof. She rounded quickly to the sound a throat being cleared, and came to face with Applinia. A look of profound concern had found its way on to her face.
‘Twi are yo-‘ she began but was quickly cut off by a nervous Twilight,
‘I’m... I am satisfactory AJ, I was just gathering data for the upcoming engagement.’ Twilight replied curtly. Applinia observed that her pupils had contracted, and she was trembling slightly. Something was clearly wrong.
‘Is it the Eye that troub-.’ Again her attempts at concern were torn asunder by the Librarian.
‘The Eye is thousands of light years away it is of no concern to me at this time,’ Twilight moved swiftly past Applinia as she spoke, heading toward the blast door, ‘I thank you for your concern…was there anything else?’ Applinia brightened. That was actually the first reason she come back.
‘The newest Neophytes arrived from the Tenth today, I wanted to know if you would accompany me to meet them.’ Twilight paused. She stared blankly at Applinia as if she had just requested a tome on instructing the use of a grenade in combat.
‘I was already aware of this…regardless will not,’ She then replied, ‘I must return to the Librarium, immediately! I’m afraid,’ she made to exit the chamber and turned back to her companion, ‘I understand Rariti’s, and from what I can gather, your’s as well… sibling is among them. Congratulations are in order I suppose…I will have Spikicus send something for them.’ And, with that she exited as the blast door came down with a loud report. Applinia sighed.
I wish she would me tell what’s wrong, if Twilight’s heart isn’t in this fight than we will all surely be doomed. She made her way out of the command deck, the blast door engaging in the same manner as it had with Twilight.
*Battle Barge Element* *Training Bay Thirteen*
‘Focus Neophytes remember; Attack before the foe even realizes that the war has begun!’ A gruff magenta furred Sergeant, with a pink and white striped mane, observed meticulously as two young mares in tunics, the color of the chapter, and white pants circled each other in the training hall. Her grassy green eyes scrutinizing every step, and slight the young ponies showed. The younger of the two’s fur was an immaculate white, with a short crop of purple and pink mane. The other had muddy brown fur, with a two toned, pink striped mane, and bangs which hung in her slightly freckled face. Their two sets of jade eyes locked as if challenging the other to make their move. Another set of Scouts observed from the opposite side of the hall. One, an orange Pegasus filly with a short cut mauve mane, and remarkable violet eyes stood on her hind legs leaning against the bulkhead, with her fore hooves crossed, smirking at the spectacle. Her counterpart was a buttery color, with a diminutive cut red mane and a solid pink head band tied around her head. Her amber eyes sparkled with anticipation at the prospect of bloodshed. All present wore the same tunic and pants as the combatants. However, the standard black leather boots, which the observers wore, were tossed casually off to the side. Scouts always sparred with out boots, naturally, to toughen the hoof.
‘BEGIN!’ And with the queue from their leader, the white filly engaged her opponent with a high buck, aimed right at her head, it was dodged and the rebuttal of a sweeping low kick caused the attacking scout to fall on her face with a thud. The Sergeant glared her in disapproval, ‘Again!’ And the ballet of combat resumed, with the white filly in vain trying to land a strike on her sparring partner. After several attempts, the Sergeant motioned to cease the drill, and for the four assembled scouts to gather around her.
‘Can any pony tell me why Neophyte Bellatrice failed to strike Neophyte Babalynia?’ She looked around at the expressionless faces of her scouts. The orange filly raised her hoof and the Sergeant nodded her approval for the scout to answer.
‘She misjudged her opponent’s quickness based on her size,’ she answered in a tomboyish voice which atoned to her pubescent age, ‘A fatal mistake in any situation.’ She smirked and unfurled her lithe orange wings, at what she felt was her own superiority.
‘Exactly Neophyte Scootia!’ The Sergeant seemed pleased by the answer, ‘If you misjudge your opponent, underestimate their strength or fighting numbers in a report… You will kill dozens, if not hundreds, of your battle sisters.’ She looked gravely into her learners’ faces making damn sure that they held on to her words, and reinforcing her statement. She began to circle the Scouts as they stood, staring straight ahead, as if at attention on a parade ground, ‘as Scouts and I quote; Your mission is to attack, before the foe even realizes that the war has begun! To strike hard at those vital weaknesses that all armies possess, but that no commander will admit to. You’ll need a sharp eye,’ she pointed her hoof to her eye which enlarged comically for dramatic effect, ‘And a quick wit,’ smacking Bellatrice on the back of the head, which she respond to by crying out and rubbing the spot, the Sergeant rolling her eyes at the simpering gesture, ‘to survive long enough to become Mareines.’ She returned to her starting point, and pivoted to face the fillies, ‘Questions?’ Not one of them moved. They stood stoically with bosoms up thrust in pride, feeling not a great weight, but a great challenge and responsibility had been presented to them. The filly with the buttery yellow fur stepped forward.
‘Sergeant Cheertana,’ She inquired, ‘If we are to become Mareines one day, why do we not emulate the Codex and fight as our battle-sisters do?’ She was genuinely puzzled. That much could be seen from the look on her face. As Cheertana made to answer the filly, the blast door of the training bay whooshed opened, revealing a dour looking Applinia. The assembled Neophytes stood a little more rigidly, as if anticipating to be inspected by their newly arrived commander. Cheertana turned to face the Captain, and bowed slightly as she approached.
‘Capitan it is an honor!’ She saluted promptly, ‘May I enquire as to your presence on our humble training session?’ Cheertana spoke with head dipped in recognition of so noble a Mareine.
‘I am simply here to examine the Scouts. They will be of much help in the coming engagement, of that I have no doubt,’ She eyed the yellow filly prudently, as she passed her, examining all of the others with equal wariness, ‘that is all Scout-Sergeant! You may continue.” With that, she exited the chamber, much to the noticeable relief of Cheertana.
‘Now then, Neophyte Apellbonaria, to answer your question you must first be able to crawl before you may walk, if I’m not mistaken?’ She stared, astutely at the filly, who hung her head in salute to her mentor’s wisdom,
‘Of course Sergeant.’ She replied staring at the deck plates, but her mind was elsewhere focused on the blast door where her living idol, her entity of worship, and her big sister had just passed through.
The Emerald Angel… She thought to herself with pure veneration. Her amber eyes sparkled, as she resumed feign-absorbing Cheertana’s lecture on the finesses of hand to hand combat, and the proper method to do away with the limb of an adversary by splitting it from the joint. She was still only half there. All Apellenaria could think of was fighting on Pegusa, and claiming her rightful place as a Mareine in the company.
‘Now then Neophytes!’ barked Cheertana, breaking her from her inertia, ‘Don your war plate! We are going to run combat drills in full kit to ready for combat.’ With that she made her way out of the chamber, and into the hall.
As Bellatrice and Babalynia pulled on their boots, discussing their bout, Scootia turned to Apellbonaria with an enthusiastic look upon her face.
‘That was her wasn't it?’ Her eyebrow rose quizzically as she asked.
‘The Captain? Yes that is her, the Emerald Angel of Corn V.’ She stated matte -of –factly, her face neutral as the Scouts made their out of the chamber and down the hall to their quarters.
‘I mean she is your sister…right?’ Scootia continued, giving her an expression that suggested the answer she had recieved was not the one she was looking for.
‘She is Sister to us all, now that we share the same gene-seed.’ Apellbonaria continued to dance around the subject.
‘No! I mean she is your sibling!’ The frustration in Scootia’s voice was clearer now, much to Apellbonaria's amusement. Regardless she decided to just give her what she wanted. With a big grin she said,
‘Oooohhh, well of course everypony knew that, just as Bellatrice is Rariti’s sibling and Babalynia is my cousin. Our families’ DNA make for bodies that very receptive to the Mareine organ transplants. In fact,’ her gaze drifted over to Bellatrice, ‘Isn’t your gene seed that of one of great ancestors, Bella?’ Bellatrice beamed at the question, her pride shining clearly through. Apellbonaria knew the inquiry was true, but Bellatrice had a rough day. It would good to give a much needed boost to her ego.
‘Why yes! I bear the gene-seed of my great, great-grandmare, Evana the Modest. A noble warrior, who was famed for her humbleness! Though she performed many great feats, and lived to be one of the oldest Mareines in history, before being allowed to pass to the Empress’ Grace.’ The pride in her voice could not be contained try as she might.
‘As I thought, and I’m assuming your sister has already been at our war gear and we will notice the changes when we arrive.’ Everypony laughed at the jest as they were sure that it had already happened. Scootia rolled her eyes and said,
‘I mean I heard the rumors! I just wanted to confirm them, one way or another, is all. I really should have known when our squad was brought to the Third. I mean scouts rarely leave the Tenth, but when your blood is a company commander…’ She smiled slyly at Apellbonaria, nudging her with her elbow and winked.
‘Are you suggesting my sister, the noble Captain Applinia Jacqueline, had something to do with all this?’ Apellbonaria feigned disbelief.
‘Never would I imply such a thing, Sister!’ Scootia played along, acting as though she where hurt by the remark Apellbonaria had made. They both looked at each other and the whole group started to laugh heartily at their own little jokes.
As the Neophytes approached their bunk room, they noticed that Sergeant Cheertana stood by the door, the same resolute expression on her face. A slight distress overtook the four fillies. They all braced themselves mentally for a scolding or punishment. Instead Cheertana’s expression softened a little as a half-smile broke across her mouth.
‘Scouts good news…I have the Simulation Hall reserved for us for tomorrow at zero nine fifteen sharp,’ the Neophytes eyes all lit up. This meant mission simulations against servitors and chapter serfs, no more shadow drills and target practice, ‘so rest up tonight! Also Chaplain Pinkamina is giving sermon in one hour. You will be there. After that, you are released to Neophyte Babalynia for the night. You will clean and prep your war gear to her standards, understood?’ the four fillies snapped to a rigid attention,
‘Yes ma’am!’ They shouted in unison placing their right forehooves across their chests in salute. Cheertana copied them and once more turned down the hall and left. Once she had rounded the corner, Bellatrice squealed in delight as she raced inside their room to begin her own preparations. She quickly threw open the weapons locker, and pulled out her combat shotgun. Giggling giddily as she sat down on a stool between the two bunks, she began to disassemble the weapon looking for any faults. She wanted everything to be perfect, no, immaculate! The others followed. Scootia grabbing her Standard Godwyn pattern Bolt Pistol which, thanks to Rariti most likely, bore a new purity seal upon it, cocked the weapon and inspected the chamber. It was micro-scrubbed clean and she could smell the sanctifying oils that had been freshly applied. Grinning in approval, she let the bolt go forward and reached for her Godwyn pattern Bolter, inspecting it in the same manner. Babalynia was next and removed a Bolter, identical to her Pegasus counterpart. She made her way over to her bunk opposite Scootia and began reciting the Litany of Weapon Maintenance under her breath as she disassembled it.
Lastly was Apellbonaria, who unlocked her own section of the locker, which housed the special weaponry for the squad. She wrapped her hooves around the cold iron of an Mk III “Stalker” pattern Bolter a Mareines version of a sniper rifle. Freshly stamped purity seals hung from the scope and rifle’s body, and battle honors were etched into the polished wooden stock. It was the Tenth Company relic, “The Empress’ Whisper”. Only, she was given permission to carry it with her to her combat assignment. She smiled and gently placed it back in the locker. She made her way over to her personal foot locker, at the foot her and Bablynia’s bunk. She opened it, and inside it was the same as the rest of the squad’s foot lockers. There were three additional tunics, four pairs of pants, and various personal hygiene materials. However what made hers unique lay buried at the bottom, beneath her clothes. She slowly took out her sister’s combat knife, sheathed in a leather scabbard said to be tanned from the hide of a Changeling her sisters had slew on Marecragge during the Changeling Wars. She flicked the strap off that held the dagger in the sheath. She slid it out and examined the inscription written on the blade in High Equine.
“Let the enemies of Ponies fear the Judgment of the Righteous,
For it is the Mareine and Her knife which are that Judgment.”
The words echoed through her head as she thought back on all the foes this knife had slain. The blood of heretics, and xenos ran in long rivers because if this knife and it was now her turn to add to those rivers, and make them overflow, and consume their banks. Scootia chuckled as she saw the mixture of pride and eagerness that was making its way over her fellow Neophytes faces, waving a hoof at her as if to chastise her.
‘You know, as our Sniper you shouldn’t be so obsessed with a close combat weapon,’ she stated exaggerating the distance to prove her point, ‘even when you do, it should be your sidearm, remember Sisters, “Do not forsake your sidearm. It is the bringer of wrath and your only companion in a life of service to the Empress.” Her usual smug expression crossed her face as she resumed cleaning her aforementioned beloved weapon. Bellatrice could never contain herself when given the chance to belittle Scootia’s, sometimes annoying, self-confidence and corrected her,
‘That is true Sister but the exact quote is; “It is the bringer of wrath and a constant companion in life of unending battle.” Well the exact Codex excerpt anyway.’ Scootia snapped her head around and shot daggers into Bellatrice’s own sense of superiority, spreading across her face.
‘What are you some kind of living Codex, or something? She retorted. Babalynia looked over and pointed a hoof up to Bellatrice’s top bunk.
‘I’m sure she sleeps with a copy under her pillow.’ Both older fillies started to laugh. Bellatrice pouted a little and just continued to clean her weapon. Apellbonaria barely paid any attention to the whole conversation. She was too busy admiring the last gift she had received since become a Neophyte, a gift from her sister.
Capital City burned. A storm of hellfire and Discord corruption covered the buildings and streets. Cries of the innocent ponies of Pegusa could be heard piercing through the air, and throughout the charred streets, as they were butchered or much worse. Guard pony corpses covered in boils and noxious sores, burned in unconsecrated funeral pyres, as heretic ponies chanted unhallowed blasphemy’s to their Dark Gods. Twilight walked down the road and looked inside an artillery ravaged building, the brittle ash form of a mother hugging her foals in the ruined home. Righteous fury welled in her heart. She wanted to know who or what was causing this appalling vision and kill it. No, obliterate it, desecrate it. She looked up and saw the maelstrom of warp energy that covered the sky, filling it with the unholy violet light of the warp. Her gaze traveled back down then out and locked on the corpses of her Sisters, flayed and lazily strewn across the blasphemous effigies to the Dark God. The lifeblood of their now lifeless bodies seeped out from gaping wounds, anointing profane shrines to Discord. At least, she thought they were lifeless. That was until the head of Applinia turned to her and stared her with eyeless sockets; the cadaver spoke in a gurgled, broken half-speech,
‘H-how, Twiilliighht?’ It asked, softly of her. Twilight stood in horror, blood began to ooze from the corners of her nonexistent eyes, as if she were weeping, ‘H-h-how c-coouuld you let th-thissss h-h-happen?’ Twilight reared back in abhorrence and disbelief,
I did this? Impossible I would never!! Her thoughts went as wild as the fires that raged around her. This is some kind of trick...of the Ruinous powers!!
Ohhh look at you, a voice echoed through the vision. It was masculine, but gentle in its cooing, such an observant pony. A figure started to emerge from the fire. At first it seemed like another Librarian in their informal robes. However as the shade approached, Twilight began to notice outstanding differences. First the body shape, height, and muscle tone suggested it was a stallion. Second, in place of the chapter emblem, or any other markings of the Imperium, there was an azure reptilian eye, wreathed in unholy flame on his chest, the eight pointed star of Discord in the background.
‘Heretic!’ She cried, and attempted to summon her magik powers. Her eyes became glowing orbs of the purest silver, and energy began to crackle at the tip of her horn. The sorcerer stood fast a twisted smile became visible from the shadow of his hood, elongated fangs glistening in the raging fires around them.
‘Now, now,’ he stomped his hoof, and she felt her power and strength fade rapidly, ‘My master needs you alive of course…otherwise, I would have shattered your mind long ago.’ He moved to her comrades’ mutilated corpses and sighed, ‘They don’t have to die you know.’ His hooded head turned to face her. She scowled back into blackness that greeted her,
‘Of course not! You made this hell yourself!’ she made to charge the stallion, but he just smiled and scoffed at the measly gesture of dominance. With another stomp of his hoof, chains covered in gore and blood erupted from the ground and bound her hooves to the spot.
‘Me?!?’ He acted, as if hurt by the statement, further mocking the unicorn, and feeding to her already boiling rage, ‘No, no you misunderstand! I came to put a stop to this future,’ he approached her cautiously, even he did not fully understand the Librarian’s powers, ‘for you see we have a common enemy.’ He circled her tauntingly, like a vulture to carrion, just out of hooves reach. He came close enough to her, that if she could move, she would have ripped his smug satisfaction clean off, and heaved it into the void. ‘My master, the Lord of Change, and the Master of the Immatirium, Tzeentch, wishes to aid you in your coming struggle against his enemies, The Lord of Skulls and The Grandfather. To you, they are known as Khrone and Nurgle. Under the guise of Discord Undivided, which trust me it is very much so divided, their Champions are the one who seek the destruction of your Imperium through their Black Crusade. Though I cannot truthfully say that I wouldn’t mind if their campaign was a success, it is not the will of my master, who has other plans for you mortal ponies.’ Twilight had no choice but to listen, as the daemon rambled on. Secretly, she actually took into consideration this deal with the devil, though she kept her emotions masked. ‘So do we have a deal?’ He smiled and stuck out a hoof, in doing so, the spell of binding which held her in place was released so she could return his gesture. Instead she just stared at him, then looked down to ground as if hanging her head in defeat. This only made the sorcerer’s grin widen as he hoped that this powerful magikster would side favorably. Then she began to laugh and his grin broke into a frown. It was, at first, a little chuckle. Then it was an outright chortle, as she looked up, her eyes once again full of the silvery power. She possessed her bonds broken, she sent out a shockwave of pristine light which knocked the mage on his side, sliding across the ash-laden ground. She approached him, with the unbridled power of the Immaterium flowing through her. He was afraid now. She could sense it and she lowered her head and pointed her horn straight at him. She took in a deep breath as she made to unleash her attack,
‘It is the duty of the faithful to purge the Heretic!!’ Her cry echoed, as she unleashed her magik assault. The stallion was absorbed by the light and she was blinded before its awesome and terrible beauty. When it was finished, and the pulsing energies had faded, she opened her eyes and observed that the pony was gone, as was all trace of him, accept a lone scorch mark where he once laid. Then his laugh filled her mind again,
And soo your choice is made…awww too bad. I was hoping not have to kill you… The voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once.
‘Face me in your mortal form! And we will see who dies!!’ She challenged to the void as the nightmare began to warp and fade. This resounding laughter and an empty blackness was all that remained.
She shot up in her bed and looked around. She was in her personal quarters on the Element. Her sweat soaked her bedding and her tunic. Her twin hearts where beating rapidly her pulse racing. She tried to calm herself, but her whole body trembled as she breathed deeply. This was not first vision she had of late, but it was first where she had been addressed by something tangible. It infuriated and exasperated her, to a point where a flicker of her uncontainable energy caused a glass vessel holding her water to shatter, crashing to her chamber floor. She walked over to the spot, glass crunching under her hooves. She did not cringe from the pain, her face stayed twisted with anger. A little of her blood began to swirl and meld with the water pooling on the floor. She decided to make a blood oath,
This will not be my outcome in the galaxy! She finally thought, I will never be a pawn for the Ruinous Powers! I will end these visions, She slammed her hoof against the floor, causing her blood flow a darker red into the water. Then I will end the heretics causing them, purging them from all know plains of existence. Her determination was set now, though her thoughts raced as she cleaned her hooves and bound them with a few strips on linen from her tunic,
How are they piercing my own defenses? She thought, Is he truly powerful enough to kill me in my mind? She rarely doubted her abilities, after her first century passed and she did not the like feeling, although all this could just be because of our proximity to the Eye. Truthfully, she did not know, but she was apprehensive at the thought. Besides she was going to find out soon enough.
“Troubling have been my dreams of late, Applinia,” Twilight halfheartedly admitted to her close friend and confidant, “The closer we get to the Eye, the more I feel its corruption. But I, of all ponies, should not!” She stated. Applinia felt unsettled, as she looked on Twilight. Her voice was stricken with a genuine fear, as close to fear as a genetically perfect super pony could feel. She stared into her friends eyes and hoped she would have an answer, though she already knew she did not.
‘Twi… I don’t know what to tell you… you must fight for sanity and ponity. If you lose sight of what is true in this world, you of all of us, what hope would the rest of us possibly have?’ Twilight knew it was a feeble reason, if a reason at all but it would have to do, and besides it did make her feel better.
Empress, damn my magikster abilities and being able to hear my friends true thoughts! She cried out in her head only it wasn’t just her in there and he made himself known.
Yeeesssss curse your blessed powers and so on and so forth I just want to be a normal super bio-engineered pony! Hahaha! His voice mocked her from the void and suddenly she was frozen in time she looked around the loading bay where the preparations for planet fall and the company’s arrival were brought to a sudden halt all at once. Twilight stood looking at herself as if from a third person view separated and alone. Her robes where gone and she had donned her Liberians’ power armor, the blue of her chapter contrasted badly with her combat-mark, and personal heraldry stamped to her breast plate instead of a harmonia. Her personal Magikster Hood built into her armor and customized by Rariti was specifically designed not to let this sort of thing happen…
So why is it!?!? She screamed out into the nothingness.
Becausssse you are our chosen daughter! The one to lead the true and glorious armies of Discord Undivied against your pathetic Corps Goddess! The voice still echoed. She needed to break his bond with her, she needed to-
Recite of the Litany of Solitude and Peace of Mind? You see I’m one step ahead of you and always will be. Hahaha even now I see you are coming to aid of the doomed little Pegusians tch tch what a waste, buuuut if you let me into your inner mind ooooo the fun we could have with them!
'GET OUT HERETIC SCUM!!!' She shot violet bolts of warp lighting into nothing as it struck nothing. She was panting heavily, jaw clenched, her muscles tight ready to react at a moment’s notice. Her pupils had shrunk and they darted back and forth like a heightened predator.
Oh now don’t get mad! Look, if you want I’ll go now…but if you die out there well… Let’s just say I’m hoping your soul will taste as sweet as your flesh…. And with that the spell broke as if nothing had happened. Applinia was monitoring the progress of the serfs and servitors. Everpony was busy about, ignorant of the woe plaguing Twilight. She was panting, her ire was up she wanted blood and combat. Power crackled from her horn, she shook it away along with all the thoughts that went with it. She slipped out of the loading bay and into a deserted hall where she took a deep, cleansing breath and began to recite the Littany of-
- Solitude and Inner Peace? It was his voice again! The sorcerer!! How?! Where?! She stopped as she realized she had conjured the voice. She had done it, her own imagination,
I’m going to lose it aren’t I? She became dejected at her own thoughts. Suddenly the klaxons sounded for the disembarkation to the planet’s surface and she made her back to the thunderhawk in the bay. Applinia was waiting by the ramp while Pinkamina, Dash, Rariti and Fluttica had already started to board and strap themselves in. She feigned a smile for her friend and Capitan as she embarked up the loading ramp for the trip down to the planet surface.
*Pegusa*
*Planet side*
Gillimane paced his office staring up at the sky through his window waiting for the message of the Marestartes arrival. A knock came at his door and he turned to this new announce he growled a little before giving permission for the irritation to enter. Major Lyre Heartstrings, wearing a crisp uniform and new rank pins entered, slowly at first only to be scolded by Gillimane.
‘What are you waitin’ for!? Empress’ Day? Or how about a gold plated innovation?!?’ This was what the norm had become for Lyre over the past two days; lots of insults from the Castellan, lots of paper work from Bonnelly, and no recognition. Not that he minded, in fact he thought it a great honour. He hurried up to Gillimanes’ desk and passed him the data slate from inside his belt pouch.
‘Here my lord, the Reports from Commaresar Bale, and Colonel’s Bonelly and Steelgrip.’
‘Hmm Bales’ I bet is executions, I was right.’ he skimmed over ever report and just barely glanced at them, ‘Steelgrip… More results with the cultist insurrections… excellent! Aaannd Bonnelly troop dispositions. Grand, just grand!’ He seemed to cheer-up as he finished his cup of recaf that was sitting on his desk and put down the data slate, ‘Well then it’s my turn for news Heartstrings,’ he looked up at the mint colored colt.
Grrreeeaaat more paper-work for me… Lyre thought to himself rolling his double hued eyes.
‘I got some field work to be done by Bale, Steelgrip, and you.’ Lyre’s ears perked up.
A mission… me?!? He tried to contain his excitement and listened closely to his impromptu brief.
‘You will be my eyes on for one of Steelgrips raids, so sorry no leadin’ anyone just keep alive and make a good n’ detailed report one I’ll actually care to read. Now Bale will be dealin’ the Empress’ Justice to those damn dirty heathens while Steelgrip and his men destroy everythin’ else… Now listen here cause this is the part where you don’t repeat it to anyone understand?’ Lyre nodded vigorously,
‘Yes sir 'course sir.’
‘Good because I have a feelin’ these cult freaks are gunna open a warp gate here…in the capitol! But I’m afraid they have got to have help from the inside… My own house, Hearstrings, I need you to find if there is a heretic mole and kill him… can you do that?’
‘Without hesitation, sir!’ Lyre stood up on his back legs and saluted sharply.
‘Good now go lay low for a little while, get what you need from the quartermaster. I will give you a time line. It won’t be today, but soon, alright son?’ Lyre fired off another crisp salute and made his way out of the office. ‘Good kid… Hope he doesn’t die.’ Gillimane chuckled at some unheard joke and began to scratch down a few personal notes on to a data slate. The sudden chime of his private phone line caught his attention.
‘Yes Bonnelly what is it?!’ he answered curtly
‘My lord, a Marestartes Thunderhawk, Identified as the Sweet Apple, has just broke orbit, and are set to land at Star Port Creed.’ replied the Colonel in neutral tone.
‘Good! You and Major Heartstrings meet me down stairs in twenty minutes. Have a convoy prepared I don’t wanna get assassinated out there.’
‘Very good my lord.’ With that he hung up the receiver, pushed himself up from his desk and made his way over to his wardrobe.
‘I better put on a fresh one for the big shots, huh?’ He joked with himself in the mirror but he knew if he made the wrong impression it could affect the working relationship he would have with Marestartes,
Not to mention they’re Ultramareines the upitiest of all the chapters… He mused to himself as he slid his red Governor’s sash over his shoulder and draped his Marechrian cross round his neck. As he clasped the Vestment of Creed, the ultimate symbol of his authority around his neck he smirked remembering how long ago he was a guttersnipe, white shield praying for his one shot.
Now look at you, runnin’ the damn planet, he chuckled to himself, as he made his way out the door, down the stairs and out the lobby exit. Like two faithful hounds, there stood Bonnelly and Lyre, facing each other, Bonnelly holding the door to his staff car open, and Heartstrings standing at attention on his hind legs, a las-carbine clutched in his hooves. Gillimane looked up and down the road and heard the rumble before he saw the beasts. Three Pegusian Pattern Lemare Russ tanks, with markings of the 4th Interior Guard Armoured Regiment, rolled around the corner and took up positions, two behind and one in front, around Gillimane’s staff car. Gillimane smiled and pointed to the front tank,
‘Thank you Colonel but it seems my ride just arrived.’ He trotted over the tank and climbed up the side of olive drab, iron-clad behemoth. He looked back to see Bonnelly visibly slump and sigh as she climbed in the car and closed the door. Lyre had a ridiculous grin on his face followed by a look of pure admiration for Gillimane replacing it soon after. Gillimane sat down on the track guard his hoof dangling off the side and ushered the convoy onward to the space port.
The Thunderhawk, Sweet Apple, began its decent to planet’s surface, speeding through its atmospheres at break-neck speeds. The sun was rising and the horizon was lit up in a beautiful cascade of amethyst, pink, and splashes of orange. Down below, the city was a constellation of lights and majesty, as the capital started to come to life for the day ahead. The trademark zigzag street pattern of all Pegusian Cities, or ‘Kasr’s’ in the local low gothic, was a site to behold. From an architectural sense, it was a grand feet of modern Imperial engineering, and from a military standpoint, it turned the city into a death trap for any invader, forcing him to claim his prize block by bloody block. Vendors filled the market squares*, families sent their younglings to the local scholas, and Guard trainees in physical training gear, jogged laps around barracks while others ran through obstacle courses. But even the sparkling domes and gilded bell towers of the Equinarchy Cathedral where nothing to the shear, awe inspiring site, of Star Port Creed. The pilot was truly a master of her vocation as she weaved around the various ships clogging up the air space above one of Capital City’s largest star ports, like suckling’s competing for a prime position on the teat.
Gillimane sat on the turret of his Lemare Russ (which he learned was named ‘Lion of Pegusa’ after one of his monikers) and watched as the Thunderhawk began its decent to the landing pad. It came about so the ramp would drop in their direction, but instead of landing, the craft hovered about ten meters off the ground. The ramps locks disengaged and it began its slow decent. He watched as Bonelly and Heartstrings, as per his instructions, approached the hovering Sweet Apple, their uniforms flapping about them. They raised their hooves to their eyes to stave off the wind. The ramp reached the down position, and a blue power armored figure leapt from the ramp landing, not two meters from a very shocked Heartstrings and naturally stoic Bonnelly, the rockcrete of the pad cracking and trembling under the mare’s weight. Her helmed head was dipped low facing the ground. The shock was only made worse by a massive suite of black power armour wielding her Harmoina shaped maul, landing next to the last figure in that same manner. Four times in quick session this happened, two more in the blue armour of the chapter, only one you could see her face, if not barely, from under a magikster hood, and an Ivory armored mare, followed by a Scarlet armored one, with several mechendrites jutting from her back, projecting forward to absorb the worst of her fall. As the last Mareine descended, the Thunderhawk took off heading back to orbit and the Element waiting for it to return. When the Thunderhawk reared to take off, the Marines rose in perfect unison and stared straight at the Guard ponies their mantles, purity seals, and battle honors billowing in the after thrust of the Thunderhawk’s ascent.
They sure can make an awe inspirin’ entrance, Thought Gillimane. As the exhibition ended, he almost felt like clapping but didn’t want to ruin his own show, so he let the Mareines play right into his plans.
Looking into the red, unblinking eyes of the Mareines helmets, only Lyre had a dumbfounded expression across his face, while Bonelly held her characteristic neutrality. Gillimane sat on his turret, loving the entire spectacle. Bonelly reached a hoof up and closed Lyre’s ever slackening jaw for him, and then spoke to Mareine in front of her with a trifecta of ruby apples on her left pauldron.
‘I may assume you are Captain Applinia?’ Her voice was feminine and soft, but held an authoritativeness that made her seem much more imposing than her smaller stature suggested, especially when a Marestartes towered a good meter above the average pony. Lyre said nothing, he just continued to stare at the living goddess which stood before him in all their great, yet terrible, magnificence. The Mareine at the head of the group looked down at Bonelly.
‘You may assume all you wish mortal, but I would speak with Governor Redlord immediately as to ascertain the method in which we will defend this planet.’ Her vox grille made her voice cold and harsh and her speech would have made a normal pony feel belittled and unworthy. Bonelly, however, was no normal pony,
‘He regrets to inform you that he could meet you in person at this location, however if you come with us we will bring you to him.’ She motioned for them follow, as she turned around and took a hold of Lyre’s jacket in an attempt to drag him away. She was stopped however by another Mareine’s voice.
‘That is unacceptable!’ She shouted her armour was covered in gilding, and battle hounors and the front her helmet was two golden wings connecting in the center of the helm, where the normal vox grille was supposed to be. Her pauldron bore the marking of a rainbow colored lightning bolt, ‘This is Captain Applinia Jacqueline of The Ultramareines! The Emerald Angel of Corn V! No mortal makes her wait for them!!’ The resentment in her voice was vibrant, and moved she moved toward the Guard Officers hostilely, only to be stopped short by the extended hoof of her Captain. Her helmet turned to face her commander, whom seemed to be staring at the armored convoy near the back of the pad, intently. She lowered her hoof and moved past Bonelly, and the now cowering Lyre. The other Mareines stood perfectly still as their Captain approached the Lemare Russ, upon which was seated the eccentric Castellan. He stood on his hind legs and flourishing his hooves into the air.
‘Congratulations! You have found the stallion you sought!’ He placed his forehooves back down and hurdled down off the tank, to come almost face to face with the Mareine, though he still needed to look up slightly. Applinia stared down at him. It was obvious by her posture that she was not amused by his display.
‘I will not play games Governor.’ Applinia stated. It couldn’t be see it from under her helmet, but she observed him with a predatory glare. Taking a step closer to the Castellan, the tank crews took this as their queue, and the turrets of the convoy swung inward and leveled at the Mareine Captain. Lyre and Bonnelly’s jaws both dropped, that any mere mortal would threaten a Mareine in such a manner. Lyre turned quickly and saw none of the Mareines had moved a muscle. They just watched and waited with the alertness of attack dogs ready to be let loose from the leash.
‘Neither do I Captain. I asked for your aid and you agreed. Now, we play by my rules,’ He never let a single tell show, he was completely ready to give the order to fire, killing himself and the Mareine, ‘I will not have my people, or myself, talked down to Captain,’ his eyes wavered back and forth in a vain attempt to read the Captain’s helmet, ‘I am the Imperial authority here. My power was bestowed by the High Council of Equstria, and through them, The Empress herself. All I ask is the same respect my people have, and I will show you.’ Applinia remained silent for a moment. She reached up with her forehooves and released the seals on her helmet, pulling it off her head. She shook her mane out and looked down at Gillimane. Emeralds locked with molten metal and in a brief, unspoken exchange that only two warriors could have, all was forgiven and the terms where accepted.
‘Very well, Governor.’ Applinia did not like, or appreciate, the manner in which he felt he could speak to her, or that he could threaten them, but she admired his tenacity. The turrets resumed their normal frontwards positions.
‘I believe in our last conversation, I said you could call me Gillimane.’ He smiled slightly and extended his hoof. There was a moment of hesitation, and she returned the gesture though he could feel her shake was a little dainty; she was probably trying to avoid crushing his hoof with her superpony strength.
‘Very well Governor Gillimane.’ She released his hoof started off toward the convoy. Gillimane dropped his head and sighed in defeat. It was going to be a long war.
*Battle Barge Element of Harmony* *Simulation Hall XII* *0905:32 Imperial Standard*
She was going to make them late. She always made them late. Scootia, Babalynia, and Apellbonaria stood by the chamber entrance and waited for their missing companion. All still wore their standard tunics, pants, and boots, but now over them they all had donned their chapter blue Scout Armour. The trademark of a Scout, their specialized armour was lighter and covered less than the standard Mareines power armour, consisting of a breast plate, pauldrons, vambraces, and shin guards, it was made of lighter ceramite and carapace hybrid. This lack of protection allowed a scout for a higher degree of stealth and mobility, which in a way was armour in and on itself. However what set Scout Squad Crusader apart from normal scouts, was their custom Cameleoline Cloaks, an absorbent piece of material that blended into any surrounding terrain by simply rubbing it with the terrain itself. All present where also carrying the same Boltpistol and combat knife, along with their respective primary weapons. Scootia had her Bolter slung around her back, her Boltpistol’s holster was left unclasped for easy access. Babalynia clutched her Bolter close to her as she stood on her hind legs leaning against the bulkhead, an intimidating Missile Launcher leaning next to her along with its pack of various rockets. Apellbonaria stood on the other side of the chamber entrance eyeing the corner. She knew Bellatrice would have to come around. “The Empress’ Whisper” slung across her back and her sister’s beloved war knife, strapped to her left flank, were the all the weapons she carried for this exercise. All Scouts bore the Company Marking of the Tenth, a white upwards point arrow with a roman numeral ten, on their right pauldron, but since they had not earned their combat-marks, their left remained bare.
Scootia groaned and looked at the chronometer built into her left vambrace, 0910:42 time was running short. Suddenly a panting, sweat covered, Bellatrice came barreling around the corner sliding on the deck plates crashing into a stack of storage bins as she did. Scootia and Apellbonaria trotted over to their comrade, sighing as their heads fell in embarrassment.
‘Thank you Sisters.’ Bellatrice said, as they pulled her out of the boxes and dust. Brushing herself off, Apellbonaria was glad to see Bellatrice had not forgotten any of her war gear and remained uniform to the rest of them, albeit her combat shotgun which took the place of the Bolter in her load out. Scootia scoffed, and turned to the entrance of the Simulation Hall. Punching the activation rune with her hoof, the door slid open and the Scouts entered. The inside the Hall was vast, so much so the Neophytes believed it could probably have housed a mighty god- machine of the great Titan Legio’s. They gawked in awe at the fully prepared simulation laid out before them; a bombed out ruined neighborhood of standard Imperial design. The truly most terrifying, yet magnificent thing, about the Imperium is its uninspiring uniformity. Even if a previous method existed before the Great Crusade of the Empress that was efficient, it was swiftly replaced with the standard rockcrete and cast iron of the Gothic Imperial style. Apellbonaria walked amongst these nameless ruins, drinking in there details. She knew once the chaos of battle began she would have little time to rely on her memory, but none the less, a moment of recognition could save you hours of bogged down urban firefights. As the Scouts approached the middle of the Hall, a familiar voice yelled out from above them.
‘Good Morning my little ponies!’ Cheertana had a mischievous grin on her face, and look that screamed, I’m going to buck your world up. She was riding a large platform attached to a massive robotic arm mounted to the hull. With her was an unnamed serf manning the platforms controls, though Apellbonaria was sure she had seen him before. Cheertana’s gaze drifted over to Bellatrice, their eyes locked and she knew she’d been caught. ‘Since Bellatrice almost made you all late today, she will go first,’ Scootia’s shoulders visibly sank and she groaned, ‘followed by Babalynia, Apellbonaria and we’ll end with Scootia. This will be the order for the three individual exercises. So Neophyte’s please mount the Observer with me.’ She motioned with a hoof to the empty space behind her. The neophyte’s except Bellatrice moved to their newly assigned positions and the Observation deck rose above the ruins. Bellatrice becoming a smaller speck amongst the rubble. ‘Now then our first exercise will be in...’ Cheertana pulled a level on the control lectern, ‘Stealth!’ The hall went black except for the eerie red glow of the emergency lights. Side compartments on the halls wall opened and heavily armed combat servitors rolled out into the ruins and took up their positions, scanning with motion detection lasers in pre designated sectors. ‘Make it from you current position to the end location without being seen and complete the exercise.’ Cheertana’s voice echoed out of vox hailers from all over the ceiling of the hall. ‘Begin!’ With her Sergeant’s permission Bellatrice pulled the hood of her Cloak over her head and rolled around in the dust. Within a few minutes she was gone from Apellbonaria’s sight even with her vantage point. Some fifty meters west of her starting position a servitor collapsed its life support tubes severed spraying ichor and lubricants on to the rockcrete. Apellbonaria smiled at her comrade’s achievement, trying to find Bellatrice was almost impossible but from her advantage point she could see the path she was heading on,
Good job Sister, you do the Crusaders proud, Apellbonaria thought as another servitor collapsed in a similar fashion as the first, “Let the enemies of Ponies fear the Judgment of the Righteous, for it is the Mareine and Her knife which are that Judgment.” She beamed as Bellatrice reaching the end point, pulled her hood off and pressed the control lectern, bringing the lights back online, and sending the servitors back to the lairs. Cheertana smirked as she projected a giant hololithic chronometer. Her time read fifteen minutes and thirty six seconds.
‘Good, Neophyte!’ She turned to Babalynia, ‘do better.’ And with that she lowered the observation deck to pick up Bellatrice and drop off Babalynia. Apellbonaria embraced her sister as she boarded. Both were practically overflowing with pride and exhilaration at her accomplishment. Apellbonaria whispered her praise as the deck rose again and the lights shut off,
‘You did fantastic Sister!’ She smiled at friend.
‘You’ll do much better,’ she was trying to force herself to be humble, ‘I mean with the “Whisper” you can overlook all the knife work.’ Apellbonaria shook her head in agreement, but she knew that she would be using her knife regardless. She looked back over and noticed the telltale signs of a Mareine Scout moving about the field. She licked her lips in anticipation soon it would be her turn. She had never been more prepared for anything else in her life than this moment. Her caught Babalynia as she pulled her hood back and pressed the completion rune.
‘Time, fifteen minutes thirty nine seconds, good but not good enough for a Mareine Neophyte!’ Cheertana’s voice boomed over the vox. The hall reset itself and the observation deck fell to pick up Babalynia and drop of Apellbonaria. She grinned devilishly at an astonished Bellatrice as she handed her “The Empress’ Whisper” and drew her sister’s knife. Dulling the blade with a mud made of dust from the hall and her own spittle pulled her hood up as the lights went out and she was bathed in red.
‘Let the enemies of Ponies fear the Judgment of the Righteous, for it is the Mareine and Her knife which are that Judgment.’ She whispered and set off into the city.
It’s going to be a really long war… Gillimane thought to himself as he clutched his temples with his hooves, these Mareines just don’t get it do they. He sat at in conference room of the Tactia Bunker; the hololithic display was showing all the military might that Pegusa could muster to her defense. Captain Applinia and Chaplin Pinkamina, as he had learned the black armoured mare was called, worked the display moving regimental markers where they thought they should be. Another Mareine, one called the Empress’ Champion Rainboute, stood on her hind legs leaning against the back wall, her forehooves folded, not saying a word. Her rose coloured eyes had not left Gillimane for a second and not an ounce of her glaring held anything but detestation for him. He knew he had overdone it by threating their Captain but he was sure they understood nothing but force. When the two other finished Gillimane stared at the new proposed troop dispositions. He had sunk in defeat, again they had opted to dig in outside the Cities and attack head on once the landing had occurred. Always eager for an assault, he mused as he lifted his head smiling. He pressed the lectern in front of him the image reset itself,
‘My Ladies I do not think you understand.’ He calmly looked to Applinia who, besides the one called Pinkamina, had her helm removed. He had wondered why the Chaplin had not removed her helm in which she curtly responded,
‘No one looks on the face of a Chaplin except the Empress herself. All the enemy needs to see is the Grinning Death before they are shattered before me.’ And with that any further questions were dropped. Now he had to explain his own reasoning for what he was sure was the ninth time in the last half an hour,
‘Pegusians can fight anywhere, true,’ He began, looking to the Mareines, ‘But the Kasr’s are designed to be entered. We want to lure the enemy in so they can be destroyed! If we meet them head on….’ He paused and took a deep breath, ‘Millions of ponies will be lost do you not understand that?’ The look on his face was the look of a father that was told he had to send all of his foals to a needless slaughter. He was all but begging with the Mareines to see his plight. Applinia sighed as she buckled activating her control lectern and moving her troops to the previous positions and only five of the thirty regiments to new positions, all of them ‘armoured hoof’ regiments of mechanized shock troops.
‘Can you spare these troops Governor?’ Applinia began, turning to him, ‘It should be all my company needs in support. We’ll have great need for your tank and Chimera born troops for our pincer to close properly.’ She understood as one commander to another. The needless sacrifice of the Pegusians was mostly Pinkamina’s idea anyway she never saw sacrificing mortal life as more than a means to an end. Gillimane nodded and turned off the hololithic display thus bringing the war council finally to an end. Applinia looked to the Chaplin who was now discussing something with Dash and she could not help but to think back on one of the darkest days of the Corn V campaign…
*Corn V* *Six Terran months ago*
Cold it filled everything on this desolate ball of ice. Irony had seemed fit to name this system it seemed all of the planets were mostly dead from years of Discord corruption, but Corn V five was the worst. It wasn’t a normal cold it was the unholy chill you feel when something evil is lurking behind you. Even in an insulated Power Armour suite you still felt the chill. Corn V was as cold as death itself… No it was death made physical. Nothing grew abet a few smatterings of sickly pine forests. And the ponies, well there were no ponies anymore, just shells. Long gone was their hope, long gone was their ponity, they were slaves sacrificed and forced to worship Discord in acts of labour and production. She stood, overlooking the ruins of an Imperial town. Alone she looked at the scene below, or it seemed she was alone there was always the dead to keep her company. Her companionship came in the form of hundreds of corpses piled all around the imperial position. The cultists had come, again and again, and again. Blood had turned the hills sloping sides into mud and it made the air stink of corruption, fecline from the discharge of bolters and lasguns mixed with it in the air, it smelled like war. She removed her helmet and took a deep breath and smiled. It made her whole, it what was she had been bred to do. Now they were regrouping in the pine thicket below the hill. She knew that’s where they were, it’s where they had attacked from every time.
‘Fools,’ she mumbled to herself she could see them try as they might to hide in the trees, ‘It is slaughter and they know it we simply give them what they want….’ She spat and scowled at the tree line, ‘Blood for the Blood God.’ A familiar form appeared next her, its gilded edged blue armour was nicked and pock marked by the impact of weapons. Battle honours, tattered and scorched wafted in the breeze, and her once clean white mantle was stained red and torn at the edges. Rainboute the company’s newly appointed champion, stood next to her sister and stared at the same poorly concealed movements she was.
‘Sister Applinia such blasphemy…’ Rainboute snickered at what she implied and circled around her comrade, ‘should I inform Chaplain Pinkamina?’ Applinia kept her dislike for this braggart down. She would not be drawn into her little game. She looked right into her eyes and calmly replied,
‘If you feel it is necessary then yes,’ She continued, standing firm, ‘By all means inform her of my blasphemous observation. For that is all that it was, a statement of the obvious. They have charged to war cries of For Discord and Blood for the Blood God! Yet only their blood has been spilt. We have suffered no more than three minor wounded. Why do they keep coming then? Only the Hogz are so bold but they always have the numbers and endurance to close the gap, unless…’ She turned and made her way towards the location of the Command Squad.
Rainboute stood where she was before, a bout of confusion setting over her person. She looked back at the carnage below the hill and sudden realization washed over her face. She quickly turned and tried to catch up to Applinia. Truth be told, Rainboute had joined the Third not four months ago. She and Applinia had developed, at first a seemingly innocent rivalry, which quickly turned into a more threatening one. Rainboute had jealously issues unbecoming of a Mareine, but her martial prowess made this fact often overlooked. Applinia was being groomed for command that much was obvious, to everypony in the company. Rainboute saw some personal threat so she was trying to snuff it out. Applinia tolerated Rainboute but she knew someday it may come to an honour duel and when that day came she was prepared to rip out Rainboute’s hearts and show them to her. Applinia heard Rainboute’s booted hoofsteps first then she appeared next her. Panting a little Rainboute swallowed hard and looked over at Applinia.
‘You believe the cultists are a distraction, yes?’ Rainboute tried to read her companions face but she remained stoically neutral.
‘I do,’ She nodded, ‘I mean to tell the Captain immediately.’ Rainboute looked forward and kept walking the line. Guard ponies and Mareines stood shoulder to shoulder here along the defensive perimeter and over all the Guard where showing good order and discipline. Rainboute had learned they were from a planet called Pegusa, a planet famous for their regiments of shock troops, and were from the Four hundred and twelfth regiment. They had been cut off when the Thunderhawk carrying a crew for the Empress Class Titan Domaretus was shot down by Discord’s forces. The Guard was there to meet them and take them to their General however such a meeting never happened after the Thunderhawk was shot down and the forces of Discord began their repeated assaults.
‘Blood for the Blood God…’ She mumbled to herself as she reached her squads position. Though the scene from before was different now. It seemed everypony insisted on crowding around a singular spot. Apothomare Fluttica was utilizing the extractor on her Narthecium to recover the gene seed of the unknown Mareine and was incanting the Litany’s of Purity and Safeguard. The gene seed slipped into one of her stasis tubes and she made her leave to treat any other wounds no matter how superficial. The first Mareine casualty of Corn V was none other than Captain Regina Cloudkicker. ‘Nooo…’ Applinia whispered she ran over to the fallen Captain, trying to lift her hoof only to find it was limp and lifeless. Chaplin Pinkamina stood over the corpse head bowed forehooves folded in silent prayer for Cloudkicker’s eternal soul. She rose and made her way over to Applinia who had fallen to her knees with grief. Cloudkicker had been there for her for so long it was like she was the mother she never had. Now when she needed her the most, she was off musing at the folly of Discord. It was her who was the fool now she would repent her hubris, she would repent in heretic blood every single one of them would bleed for Cloudkicker. This she swore.
‘She was a noble Mareine and good mare,’ Pinkamina began as she placed a hoof on her pauldron, ‘She was strong in life her soul will find its way to the Emperor.’ Her words were hollow to Applinia, she already knew that she would. The only thing would comfort her now was revenge. ‘There is also one more thing,’ she turned to look up at her Chaplain, ‘should you survive this campaign the Third will be yours. It was the wish of Captain Cloudkicker before she passed.’ Applinia froze the world seemed to stand still. It was all she ever wanted. Soon she would be leading the Third in her own glorious campaigns winning new battle honours and making legends. Pinkamina began to speak again, ‘However until that time I will lead the rest of this mission I estimate it will only take a fortnight at most.’ She sounded confident and began to make her way back to the line suddenly Applinia remembered why she had come and rose to her hooves to follow her.
‘Chaplain Pinkamina!’ She shouted at the hulking black form, ‘Chaplain! I must have a word!’ Pinkamina stooped and turned to meet Applinia. ‘I believe the cultists are a sacrifice, a distraction intended to hide their true attack and movements.’ Pinkamina stood there and said nothing then she turned around again and started to move,
‘I know.’ Applinia was slightly shocked, was the feign so obvious?
‘How, I only just figured it out?’ Pinkamina turned her head and replied.
‘It occurred to me right before the Captain was killed.’ Applinia returned her neutral expression back to her face,
‘How will we proceed then?’ she asked.
‘I plan to have the Guard charge in and flush them out, we will follow behind.’ Her voice, even without her vox grille, was completely emotionless. Applinia stopped dead and stared at Pinkamina, her expression began to twist till a look of repulsion and fury, replaced her neutrality.
‘How could you?!?’ She finally shouted. Several of the Guard ponies turned to see while the Mareines stood fast, they already knew what was about to happen, ‘they are ponies as well! All loyal soldiers of the Imperium! If you send them down in a foolhardy charge they will all die!’ She was panting hard her ire was up. Her hoof had slid subconsciously to the hilt of her chainsword and she had unbuttoned her pistol’s holster. Pinkamina turned to face the pony shouting. A technical screeching noise started to emanate from her it was hardly a task to compare the noise to that of gears grinding, or an engine failing. It was neither of these things though it was the laugh of Pinkamina being distorted through her vox grille. She through her head back and the laughter got a little heartier till it slowly died and drifted down to nothing. Her Grinning Death face mask fell to meet Applinia’s face all but now red with rage. Red recitals met Emerald irises and Pinkamina scoffed,
‘You are serious?’ At this point Applinia lost it, she drew her sword, chain blade whirring to life, swung at the Chaplain. Pinkamina countered by bringing her Crozius Marecanum, a large mace in the shape of an Allicorn head with two semi folded wings, the symbol of her status as Chaplain, to bear and quickly parried it. Applinia screamed in frustration as she reposed herself for another strike before she could she was frozen by the same metallic screeching which was Pinkamina’s vox grilled laughter. Her head was thrown back again and she dropped her Crozius and grabbed her sides, ‘You really are! You care for the mortals?!?! Very well then Sister I will not waste my energy on an honour duel I will concede defeat as you will be my new Captain.’ She turned picked up her Crozius slung it to her back and started to make her way down back to her position. Applinia sheathed her weapon and turned to face the line of Guard ponies. One a young colt lieutenant stood there staring at her his helmet was long gone and his armour was scarred and pocked similar to her own he saluted her sharply her held it as he looked her in the eyes. His violet eyes were full of fear but his face never showed it, only her super senses detected it.
‘Ma’am we will follow you till the end.’ He spoke finally she stood a little puzzled but she felt a strange sense of honour flood over her. ‘My lady we would charge still if you commanded it.’ She was taken aback normal ponies would not want to charge headlong into to certain death.
So why is it these ponies would do so? She pondered a moment then finally spoke so all could hear,
‘No! No pony will have to do that! Nor would I ask any willing servant of the Imperium to make such a suicidal move! To squander Empress blessed life is a blasphemy none can make!’ Every pony around her turned their heads to face her many letting their rifles slide from her hooves. Rainboute stood close behind her face read neutrality but she was hanging on every word. This was not the Applinia she knew this was different beast entirely. Applinia continued her speech,
‘We will be triumphant, we will all live to see another day and we will ONLY die in glorious service to the Empress!’ She was drowned by the cheering of the all the warriors on the line they were ready to fight again the morale restored. Soon though that was even drowned out by the war cries coming from the thicket as hundreds of cultists emerged from their hiding place and charged. Applinia unsheathed her weapons and waved her chainsword above her head firing her bolt pistol, ‘Now Guardpoines rally! Here come the scum of the warp to try to sully this Empress blessed soil! Deny them their feeble attempts! For the Empress!!’ She jumped up on the barricade firing down into the mutated, ritually scarred, and obscenely tattooed mob below her.
Howls and cries to their dark gods went unanswered as they we butchered before the Imperial lines. On occasion a few got through only to be hacked to pieces by bayonet and chainsword. Suddenly a bright violet light appeared in the middle of the field every pony looked away as they were blinded. An ornately robed pony appeared his eyes black as void chuckling has drove his stave, which bore the eight pointed star of Discord, into the ground he ascended into the air. His hooves out at his sides his laugh grew manic, it unnaturally echoed off nothing and filled everything. He plummeted to the ground in a burst of blood and with a roar emerged a Daemon red as blood, massive in height it towered over the field laying its shadow out in all directions covering the Imperial line in darkness. It held a great axe in its hand and flourished it before the Imperials in a show of martial skill. Roaring again it made its way up the hill the stink of blood, fresh blood filled, the breeze and wafted up to the defenders. Applinia watched as a bold battle Sister, she learned her name was Proudmane and she was honoured later after the Campaign as one of its Martyred souls, charged the Bloodthirster, as it was known by the Maredo Mallenus, only to be grabbed in a swipe of its claw. She struggled the whole way to her doom stabbing futilely at the beast’s hands with her knife and firing wildly into it with her bolter. A stray round nicked its face and he howled in rage. He slung his axe and reached up with his now freed claw, with a sickly cracking sound broke her in half and tore her in twain, drinking her blood as it spilled from her severed mid-section. He squeezed each half and drained out every last drop as if she was some ripe citrus fruit and her blood was its sweet juice. After his thirst was slaked the daemon dropped the corpse and unsheathed his axe flourishing it again challenging any to approach him. His challenge was answered by the vox screech laughter of Pinkamina as she lifted her Crozius into the air it crackled and sparked with an energy field as if the Empress herself was giving it a new power.
‘Now then mortals, behold the power of an Empress blessed Daughter!!’ She charged the Bloodthirster uttering penances as she did. Many accounts claim she just cackled madly during the whole exchange, other claim she screamed “Party Time!” when the Crozius in all its crackling glory smashed into the daemon’s skull after she had managed to climb up it’s back evading it’s attempts to dislodge her. All that needed to be known was that she brought down the daemon by herself, single hoofed, it was a moment that would be glorified in the legends of Corn V and The Ultramareines lore forever. The battle soon ended and the remaining Guard units linked up with the stranded escorts and eventually lead to Imperial victory on the planet. However the most significant moment of Applinia’s life came a few moments after the Bloodthirsters demise when the same Lieutenant came back to her, bowing before her as he spoke.
‘My lady you truly saved us all.’ His voice was humble and there was no lie in the words he stated at least non she could detect. ‘If we had followed the Chaplain’s orders… I mean without your objections that… Thing, would have emerged right in the middle of our forces… you saved thousands today.’ A Guardpony behind him piped up,
‘Our Savior!’
‘A true Angel of the Empress!'
'With eyes of emeralds, full of the Empress’ wisdom!’ Another yelled.
‘Let’s hear it for The Emerald Angel!’ The Lieutenant cried to the group forming behind him and a cry went up it could be heard for miles around
‘Emerald Angel! Emerald Angel!’
The command bunker formed around her once again and she smirked a little at her own musings,
‘Emerald Angel, Captian ma’am,’ the sound of Gillimane’s voice stirred her from her stupor, ‘If you would please I was about have Bale brief Heartstrings on his mission I would be honoured if you and your Champion would attend.’ She nodded and motioned to Rainboute to follow him as they made their way to the door and out of bunker. She couldn’t help but smile at her memories as she followed Gillimane to the brief,
"Really if it wasn't for Pinkamina then I wouldn’t be known how I am now." She supposed it was a good thing though she did not know it had earned her the instant respect of Gillimane when he had heard her name. That made it easier for them to plan together but she also feared that it made her own respect her less and made her seem soft. "Well it’s better than simply being feared…" She smiled once more it could have been worse of course much worse.
Emerald Angel… I don’t even like it that much. She chuckled a little out loud and Rainboute turned to face her Captain,
‘Sister are you well?’ She questioned.
‘I’m fine Rainboute,’ she stared up at the setting sun and the Eye of Discord hovering above, ‘just fine.’ They made to the command center to see what scheme Gillimane had cooked up for his poor adjutant.
Nervous would never do justice to the feeling that Major Lyre Heartstrings was experiencing at this moment, terrified, nauseous, about to pee himself, these where far more accurate. It also didn’t help that about ten minutes ago Commaresar Bale had walked in with a hoof filled with files and data slates placed them out on the conference table, sat directly across from him, and for all the rest of time stared at him with folded hooves not saying a word. He hoped he didn’t look pale or was perspiring too heavily though the hoof-pits of his jacket where clearly soaked. The only thing that broke his gaze was the sudden opening of the blast door and the appearance of a third pony. A unicorn mare, she was average height with a more lithe build, which was only obvious through the black leather body glove she wore. Her mane was two toned, powder blue and a lighter blue, same as her tail which stuck out through a hole in the body glove. Her fur was blue as a clear summer’s sky with eyes that where striking violet which gave her away as a Pegusian since few ponies in the galaxy shared the same violet colour. She wore a large gothic E with a pony skull sitting the middle, bejeweled on a heavy gold chain around her neck as a symbol of her authority and the organization which she served. The only unattractive feature about the mare though was the expression of smug satisfaction she wore as she took her seat at the rear of the table without so much as an introduction. Behind her two colts followed, a chubby colt with a messy orange mane that had sections missing to revel ugly implants and dirty blue coloured fur. He wore the robes of an Equestus Admareistradum menial but bearing the same Equinsitorial E as his master. The other a taller, skinnier colt with what appeared to be his counterpart’s colour scheme but reversed, he wore simple black fatigues the same large E with a lightning bolt in the back drop as a patch on his shoulder. The skinny colt walked past Bale and gave him a glare which without words sent a clear message of spite and loathing. Bale whirred and stood, the colt drew up they came eye to eye Bale’s steel eyes returning all the hate he was receiving his hoof hung by his Boltpistol. The mare coughed to get their attention,
‘Excuse him Commaresar, he doesn’t exactly enjoy the company of agents of the Commaressariat ,’ even her voice was haughty and stuck-up Lyre felt her words might do more harm than good with a voice like that, ‘and Major Heartstrings seems to have equally poor manners.’ He quickly looked over at her but her eyes had stayed locked on the two colts about to duke it out.
Did she just read my mind? He thought, well she is a magikster their witch craft is pretty broad…
‘There maybe hope for him yet though,’ she stated with even more smugness looking straight at him this time making obvious to him she was reading his thoughts, ‘regardless we should move on and calm down. Snails darling come over here… now!” She barked the last part and the colt dropped to his hooves and grudgingly moved to his spot on her right with his chunky counterpart taking the left. Now that he saw them next to each other they seemed the exact reverse of other. Bale took a deep breath as if trying to resist the urge to pull out his bolt pistol and reduce the colt to an unattractive stain on the wall. Instead he turned and sat back down resuming his glaring at Lyre making him much more uncomfortable. After a few moments of tense silence the blast door opened again and Gillimane, Applinia and Rainboute entered the latter having to adjust to fit their bulky armour through.
‘Ah very good the Equinsitor has joined us so there is no need to wait.’ Gillimane shot her a subtle glare. This was common among her profession as few Imperial citizens loyal or not where glad to see a member of her majesties Equinsition make an appearance on their humble planet. Especially those who rule said planet as when the accusations start flying normally they are first on the chopping block. She smiled as though amused by the comment though Lyre suspected that she could see right through the Castellans compliments to their more suspicious truth. He took a seat at the other end of the table with the two Mareines flanking him he looked even more imposing than normal. Bale slid him a data wafer and he inserted it into the lectern in front of him an image of a city appeared over the table. An image of the Capital appeared over with red triangles scattered about, followed by twice as many gold Harmonias mostly clustered near major Imperial authority areas.
‘As you can see the red dots are suspected insurgent strong holds,’ he tapped the largest one with his hoof and it enlarged the image greatly, ‘here however is the strong hold, what we have code named “The Spire” it’s in the old abandoned hive in the Elena District.’ He punched a code into the lectern and a three dimensional floor plan of the spire appeared along with a few boxes of data and arrows point to specific places of interest. ‘I’ll turn the floor over to Commaresar Bale who in the current absence of Colonel Steelgrip, will be giving the tactical brief from here.’ Gillimane sat and Bale stood, pointing out one of the boxes he enlarged the text so all could see the technical specs of a large waste pipe that bore into the bowels of the spire. Bale cleared his throat and spoke.
‘The Spire has several weaknesses but intelligence has deemed this one to be the most exploitable.’ He pointed at the image and began to explain the entrance and exit strategies to all at the table. Lyre didn’t hear him his head was going a million miles an hour. He saw it all, the minuscule details, every single accessible angle, every last death trap and ambush point. This was his gift, his curse this was why he was drafted into the Intelligence Division in the first place. He came down off his adrenal high and the world returned he was sweating and breathing a little heavy he noticed that Gillimane was staring at him the whole time, his face resting on his hooves, even though Bale was still talking. Bale was finishing his statement about the supplies and manpower when Lyre stood and interrupted him,
‘We’ll all die!’ He stammered getting a look from everypony present except Gillimane who just smirked a little as if he had seen everything Lyre had. ‘The entrance is less guarded true,’ he rushed over to another lectern punched the controls on it enlarging the image, ‘but its text book for an ambush, however here,’ he enlarged the specs for another entrance, ‘While moderately guarded offers this series of exploitable egress points.’ He highlighted a series of hatches and possible breach points. No pony moved they just stared at him his pupils shrunk and a nervous smile crossed his face. Had he over stepped a boundary? Did he commit a command taboo? His panic was broken by the clapping of hooves and the smile of the Equinsitor.
‘His logic is not flawed in fact it’s tactical genius if my opinion means anything, which,’ she snickered a little, ‘I know it won’t.’ She got up and strolled over toward Lyre his heart started racing and images unwillingly forced themselves into his mind, most of them where lewd in nature others were horrific and painful. He closed his eyes and the images faded as the Equinsitor passed she smirked and brushed up against him he felt her noxious warp energies flicker around her and he froze up until she passed. ‘No offense to the Commaresar intended, but maybe you should have consulted the Major on the subject,’ she shot him a sultry look they locked eyes, ‘I feel I will be again.’ Another image made its way into his mind against his wishes he shook it off less than willingly. If it came true he wasn’t going to complain, though he may be psychologically scared for the rest of his life if it did. At the moment he didn’t care he just wanted the witch to leave so he could be at peace again. She laughed her haughty, over confident laugh and went exit her menials following close behind. She turned before the blast doors with a smirk,
‘I will be waiting at the prison I already have my specialist team selected I expect the stipulations we agreed on to be honoured Lord Castellan,’ the hate from inside the room was more intense then the heat of the heat of the Pegusa Prime the star in the center of the system, ‘and Commaresar your specialists I trust where selected with higher standards than your battle strategy was planned.’ With that the blast door fell and she exited, as the door slammed both Gillimane and Bale shot around at Lyre, he could feel the scorn in their eyes. Gillimane was first to speak,
‘Heartstrings that was… excellent well done!’ Lyres mouth dropped and his gaze shifted to Bale a cocky smirk of approval breaking across his face. ‘See we were hopin’ you notice the suicide run we had planned so that bitch would feel as though she was superior, but what is really going on was only slightly different than actually what you had planned.’ He paused and stood as he programed in a code and a new display appeared before them, ‘you see this is the real plan, we are goin’ in exactly where you wanted but we are going to cut down to the next pipe and continue from there. So in a way it is your plan just slightly modified, however Commaresar make a note of those breach points in case things go ploin shaped?’ Bale nodded his acknowledgement and proceeded to leave the same smile still on face as he left the chamber. The two Mareines stood slightly confused at the spectacle, Applinia could sense that the one called “Heartstrings” was too in shock to ask any of the obvious questions she cleared her throat and Gillimane turned, ‘Yes my Lady?’
‘How is it the Equinsitor could not sense the thoughts of you and the Commaresar? Even I could feel her pestering presents in my own thoughts throughout the brief.’
‘Well the Commaresar, as I understand it, started as a magikster keeper so he received extensive magik intrusion training to avoid his charges burning him from the inside out,’ Applinia nodded she could understand that as she knew it was one of a Commaresar’s many duties to summarily execute both troops and sanctioned magiksters if they showed taint or any other violations of Guard codes, ‘myself as Lord Castellan I have an augmented brain segment that’s where I keep all my secrets and schemes so no rogue magikster can get vital Imperial intelligence, and if it’s hacked without me unlocking it mentally it will explode.’ The last part he said completely nonchalantly as though it was just another piece of day to day business. Her questions answered she quietly nodded her head as snickered a little.
‘So this was all a ploy for the Equinsitor? Interesting how mortal politics works if I had a problem I would have simply disemboweled her.’ Again this was said with such a degree of neutrality it openly startled poor Lyre. He barely understood what was going on but he wasn’t about to try to make heads or tails of it either.
‘Sir what does this mean now? I mean what do I do next?’ He needed guidance and he knew Gillimane was already four steps ahead of him so Lyre knew he would be able to tell him. Gillimane smiled a little and passed a wafer to Lyre who inserted it into the lectern. A series of mug shots and service records started popping up all over creating a vast spreadsheet of data.
‘You will head to detention center Bravo Romeo Zero November – One Three. Get these individuals. Most of them served as Kasr’colt commandos, in the campaign on Corn V but where sent here after a few incidents with the Eldeer, our own delightful ball of sunshine Equinsitor Tryx is over seein’ their interrogations and “Tests” for taint,’ he looked around the room to see that all present where hanging on his words and readily listening, ‘it’s all a load really these are war heroes and I want to retire them if they survive this suicide run, Lyre this is why, your tactical genius has been proved to me over the past few days. You changed my mind on letting you lead you will get a team, along with Steelgrip and Bonnelly’s teams, and raid this shit hole. I have no doubt the team I made for you will get you out alive and you will get them out alive.’
Lyre was frozen, his ears drooped, and his irises shrank to almost microscopic size. He wanted to scream and run out of the room but the Pegusian in him stood and saluted,
‘It would be an honour Lord Castellan.’ Gillimane returned the salute and smiling left the briefing room,
‘You familiarize yourself with the team. You can have this room for as long as you need it Major.’ It was the first time Gillimane had used his rank in private he could feel the bittersweet sting of it. It meant he was gaining his respect but it almost meant the responsibilities that went along with it. He nodded as Gillimane and Applinia exited. Before she left Rainboute turned and silently gave him her approval with a dip of the head and a quick smirk. He stiffened a little at the show of respect and when she finally left he released a pent up sigh, he raced over to the trash can and vomited. It shamed him a little but no one was around to see him so he didn't care. He turned back to the hololithic displays of the team… no HIS team. He never met them but he knew before he did he would know everything about them he could. He sat and pulled the first file up to his face and read the name aloud to himself though it was slight whisper,
The Spire was once a great Equinarchy cathedral city, was the shining example of the Imperial cult’s power over the masses. So of course when the thirteenth black crusade arrived out of the Eye and made planet fall it was the first city to be desecrated and conquered. It was never reclaimed after the crusade ended. The standard designs of Pegusian cities, with zig-zaging streets and tight packed buildings, actually proved to be the down fall of the Pegusian forces sent to reclaim it. The Equinarchial Cathedral of Her Glory in the Universe, the jewel and center of the city, was the first thing the heretics claimed as their own. The images of the Empress where debased and destroyed, the symbols of Discord and unholy statues erected in their place, the profane chants of the cultists and swirling crackles of warp energy gave a clear message. A great blasphemy was being conducted there now.
In the bowels of the Spire a dungeon was built to house the victims, a place where slaves and eventually sacrifices for Discord were kept. Alone in such cell sat six ponies. A mare and what seemed to be her pre-adolescent foal, by the way they were clutching each other. Another fairly attractive mare a tan coat and rose coloured mane who sat softly banging her head against the wall, the other three where all colts. One wore the uniform of a guard pony, or what remained of one, he was beaten and tortured the most as they hoped to delve some kind of intelligence from him. Amidst the screams and before he started to eventually just babble incoherently, he had told everypony, captor and captive, that he was just a solider in a standard armoured company he knew nothing special. The mare that was entertaining herself by slowly and tenderly killing her brain cells with the wall, had called him a hero and was always openly attracted to him, but never really made a move. Until she was dragged off by three horribly scared cultists bearing a symbol they all eventually learned stood for a god named Slaneesh. They all knew what happed by the state she was returned in. He comforted her, cared for her held her while she cried. He strengthened her and made her a tough survivor. She and the guard pony had been inseparable since then they were almost the closest thing to in love as one could get in the situation. They labored together, ate together and slept together. No pony knew why they were allowed to have this relationship and maintain it but then all anypony cared about was surviving. Though most knew what waited for them. It was one of those days the days when HE came through and picked out the sacrifices. He was a pony of average height but, lanky and scrawny. His vermillion robes, which bore the symbol of the Discord god Tzeentch, hung loosely on his body flowed even without the presence of a wind. The prisoners could always feel the unholy presence as he entered the stockades. His malice was a malady which as he walked spread to very corner of the room filling the prisoners with dread and depression. He made his way down the hall and stopped after the cell, with mother, child, lovers and survivors. He backed up and turned his head slightly to look at the mother. She looked up from her terrified son. Tears filled her eyes as he smiled wickedly at her and he nodded to his lackey, another ritually scared jailor, behind him. The Jailor snapped some guttural commands and two more guards appeared to open the cell. All of the inmates were on their hoofs at this point many had moved to the corners except the mother and foal. They both cowered in the middle of the cell. Nobody wanted to help them, to interfere meant death, and no one wanted to die for someone else, not here. Not where it would have meant nothing. The jailor reached out for the mother but a quick snap of the guttural language from the sorcerer and he began reaching for the foal. The mother was screaming frantically and begging, the jailors slight smirk was the only answer her pleas where getting. He wrestled the foal, now equally as hysterical as his mother, from her hooves. She lay on the grimy stone floor bawling and pleading with the jailor who, just started to laugh he turned around and came muzzle to muzzle with the hel-pistol of a short cut electric blue maned mare in Imperial Guard armour and kit, a hel-gun slung up over her shoulder. His expression, reflected in the purple tinted sunshades she wore, went from smug to terrified to furious as he looked behind her to see the sorcerer and his fellow jailors lying in pools of their own stinking corrupted black blood. Four more ponies, one with mint coloured fur and mane, with a white stripe, fiddled with a bracer which glowed and beeped. He noticed the other ponies where examining the corpses of his comrades and wiping the ichor from blades. His eyes flicked back to the sun shade wearing pony her expression of smug satisfaction made his blood boil.
‘Give me a reason, for as of right now you are more valuable alive, drop the youngling.’ Her accent was atrocious, but to hear her words in his own tongue was more appalling to him than anything. In a reflex of anger his grip tightened and the foal squirmed a little and squeaked slightly,
‘The Warp will feast on your soul for the infidel’s are like swe-,’ a hel-pistol struck him the back of his head and he collapsed releasing the foal who scampered right back to his mother. A turquoise furred mare with a two toned blonde mane emerged from the shadows, she smirked haughtily as she holstered her pistol. The special hot shot long-las slung across her back, her lighter scout armour, and simmering camoline cloak made her out as a stealther and sniper. She emitted an air of confidence and sureness that to most would come off as arrogant to many but, if you knew her she had the skills to back it all up. She leaned against the entrance of the cell,
‘He didn’t even see it coming but considering your crazy clucking wasn’t sounding any less hostile.’ she continued to smirk throughout looking at the blue maned mare as she made her way into the cell
‘It’s the dark tongue Lighting!! Of course it sounds hostile for Empress’ sake,’ she bent down in front of the foal and his mother, they were fearful and in awe of the first shining symbol of the Empress they had seen since they were captured by the cult, ‘Hey there little guy,’ She smiled sweetly and lifted her sun shades and reveled her rose coloured eyes, ‘I’m Sergeant First Class Symphony, but you and your friends can call me Scratch.’ She looked up around the cell, she could feel the hope she brought all around her through the glimmers in the ponies eyes. ‘We are here to free you and destroy this Hell hole.’ This set them all over the edge many fully grown and who had seen the worst The Spire had to offer wept and embraced each other. A brown furred stallion walked into the cell and began scanning the faces and eyes of the prisoners. On the sleeve of his uniform a subdued medicae symbol gave him away as the groups’ medic.
‘Doctor how are they doing?’ Lyre inquired looking up from his bracer.
‘If you mean what health condition they are in,’ the brown stallion known simply as “Doctor”, or “Doc”, replied somewhat haughtily, ‘poor every poor. Most are malnourished and dehydrated.’ He walked over to Lyre and grabbed his forehoof turning him around and begun to whisper, ‘Sir they will not be able to travel far on foot if we can get an medevac- ’ Lyre cut him off,
‘That won’t be an option right now the evacuation Valkyries will only be in the airspace long enough to get us after The Spire is destroyed,’ Doc gave the prisoners a sadden look and made to protest, but Lyre cut him off, ‘I know we have brought them hope and it kills me inside but I just do-’ Doc turned back to Lyre fire in his eyes,
‘You do though sir!’ He glared at Lyre no longer caring about rank or orders, ‘call a bird in we can shut down the air defenses on and the tower we are close enough and you know it!’ he was shouting now and everypony had turned to look. Scratch walked over and placed a hoof on Doc’s shoulder. He looked over at her. He took a deep breath, walked back over to the prisoners and began to bandage and treat there more minor cuts and wounds. Scratch sighed and looked up at Lyre she slid the sunshades up on her head revealing her blood red irises. She had a look like a pony that even at her age had seen far too much. Quietly she began to speak,
‘Sir we have to move them, if at some point our presence is detected they will be killed just so they cannot escape. It will simply be out of spite.’ Lyre sighed he knew she and Doc where right but what could he do?
“If we take them we will get slowed down and some of them may die…. If we don’t take them… Blasted….” He looked up a new determination on his face, he made his decision.
‘Doc, Sergeant Dust and Sergeant Melody will take them back to the evac point. The rest will continue forward and shut down the air defenses, we’ll rendezvous where we can when we can.’ He smiled slightly to himself it was as good a plan as they were going to get. Scratch liked it too she smiled slightly and nodded her head,
‘Good choices but we’ll lose comms with the other elements and command, as well as our medic if you go through with it…’ Lyre looked over at the grey mare pulling security down the hall her vox pack strapped to her back. Her black and light gray streaked mane was pulled back neatly and her stern expression told of a very professional pony. Every once and a while her hoof slipped to her ear when she was listening for important chatter. That was Sergeant Octavia Melody the team’s communication specialist.
‘I know but they’ll need to hail the bird more than we will need to hear how the other teams are faring.’ He smiled at her, it was hard to believe this was the same Pvt Scratch he had met several months ago in Detention Center BR-0N13. She nodded and moved between the guard-ponies explaining the plan to them. As she passed Doc he smiled looking over at Lyre as he hustled all the civilians on to their feet. He smiled lightly back and turned around to look away from them all he wondered if he’d get a stern talking to for this, “Yeah but I can handle that…” He almost laughed out loud at the thought but subdued it to a soft chuckle, five months ago he would have dreaded that. Five months ago….
Detention Facility BR-0N13 was a fortress in its own right. Located in one of the more inhospitable sections of Pegusa it was remote, uncaring and intimating, and that was just the landscape. It was like the castles of old Equestria, made of tough native stone and towering over the highest points in the area it was truly a site to behold. Lyre thought this as he gazed out the view port of the Alicorn shuttle he was riding in. As it approached the landing pad located in what could be considered by a more poetic type the courtyard of the castle, he marveled at the feat of early pony engineering. The structure was gruff yet refined marital yet elegant in its simplicity. Not much could be said about activity the only things that showed any life at all where the auto-las turrets slowly scanning the courtyard landing pad, standing sentry silently except for the dull whining of the gears in the metal arm securing it to the fortress wall. As the shuttle landed and the ramp fell for the disembarkation of the Major and its supplies, two ponies stepped out of the arch way to the north of the pad. One of them wore the collar rank of a Colonel the other the rank of a Capitan. The Colonel was a mare with fur the colour of the stone of the great fortress prison she commanded, a short cut brown mane and tail, and eyes the colour of the abyss set her attitude as an unapproachable pony. It is humored her heart was as made of the same stone, she was Colonel Stonemane, Commandant of this facility. The Captain was a brick red furred colt with a heavily augmented muzzle and forelimb. Both wore the iron coloured uniforms and the insignia of the Penal Legions. As Lyre descended the ramp of the transport Stonemane came forward. Lyre snapped to attention and saluted she returned the salute as crisp and sharp as to be expected. She spoke to him as the made there way back to the arch and into the facility,
“Welcome Major, the prisoners you requested are prepared for inspection as requested by the Governor.”
“Right to business I see Colonel, very good I will need a suitable space for training as well ma’am.” Lyre replied quickly and respectfully though he carried the authority of the Governor she was still his superior.
“Of course,” she nodded back to the Captain and he trailed off down a hall way, “we will see that ample resources are made available.” Lyre simply nodded to this as they came upon a large iron door. Stonemane entered a code into the control lectern and door slide up with a rush of air to reveal a well-lit stone room with several ponies in chains and ratty tunics the same colour as the officers and guards around them. As they approached he noticed that their manes where shaven and tails cut very short. He looked to Stonemane her neutral express giving away nothing. She nodded as to indicate he could begin his inspection. Lyre moved forward cautiously, even though chained each of the seven ponies looked very capable of killing him should they choose to. He noticed as circled them that they each had a serial number tattooed on the backs of their heads, no doubt to simplify the various administrative processes. He circled back around and stood in front of them, they raised their heads and looked at him with a combination of scorn and hope. They knew very well he was their last chance. Lyre straightened up and addressed them,
‘Listen up, my name is Major Lyre Heartstrings. I am an emissary and staff officer of Lord Governor Militant Gillimane Redlord, I carry his authority and his pardons,’ at this all of the prisoners ears perked a little more, ‘If you are willing to serve you Empress on a glorious mission you will be spared the Legion. If not well, let us just say for there is no other option.’ Lyre remained expressionless, cold. It was all a façade he had been practicing for days now with Bale and Bonnelly. On the inside he was cowering and terrified they would say no and return to their respective sentences. As much as Lyre hated it, inside of himself he also knew these convicts, accused of heresy where also quite possibly the last chance of Pegusa. The white mare stepped forward here blood red eyes alone would have made her intimidating if it weren’t for the cocky air of superiority she carried herself with.
‘If I may Sir I’ll speak of the group,’ Lyre acknowledged he had no problem and she continued, ‘Sir I am former Kasrcolt Vivian Symphony know by my moniker “Scratch”. My comrades and I are all faithful and loyal servants of the Empress. However we are accused of heresy, we just want to know, why do you want us?” Lyre stared, he hadn’t really rehearsed an answer for that question. He sighed loudly,
‘Well…. I’ll be honest with you, I don’t want you,’ everything seemed to stand still for a moment Stonemane turned to look at Lyre. The Prisoners stiffened a look of astonishment and anger in their eyes. The guards tightened the grips on their shock batons, ‘in my eyes anyone could be better than you lot. However as I reviewed your files and service records I realized that my feelings on the matter don’t, only your abilities and the confidence that my superiors have in those abilities. Does this help any of you?’ Scratch looked down for a moment, she turned her head to her comrades all remained stoic and unmoving, a silent determination on their faces. She looked back up at Lyre snickering,
‘Were do we sign?’ The other prisoners all smiled a little and the air in the room became a little less tense.
Lyre snapped back to the harsh reality of the stockade forming back around him. He quickly surveyed the current situation other ponies from their team had entered and where beginning to corral the civilians out of room. A massive white Pegasus, with bulging muscles, a blonde flat top cut mane, and short cut tail. The sleeves of his uniform where cut sort to allow for his arms to be more comfortable when moving. He pulled security for the group with an Autocannon his weapon of choice. Beady red eyes scanning intensely even the civilians lest there be a traitor among them. A plum furred mare with a raspberry pink mane, and violet coloured eyes stood outside the door hustling the civilians along down the direction that Lightning and Octavia headed. Her name was Beatrice Proudhoof, occasionally she was called by the nickname “Berry Punch” for her affinity to a type of spirit fermented with local berries known to have quite a high alcohol content. She also had an obsession with explosives and, the destruction they caused, that actually bordered on the heretical at times. The last addition to the group was a mare helping Doc with an especially abused and frail looking older colt. Her fur was light blue and her Ice coloured mane had a dark blue streak running through it, her eyes where the unnatural violet of many Pegusians whole had extended linages. Colleen Gateguard, her military pedigree, which could be dated back to the founding to Pegusa, indicated she should have been an officer or an officer’s wife. She how ever had very different plans in mind. When the time came for her to choose her path she chose to join the White Shields as an enlisted. Her family disowned her and she became infamous as an assassin favoring a blade and to work alone rather than with a team. Until Scratch caught her trying to kill a rising star General many feared would rise to outshine them. She saved Colleen from the firing squad and ever since she would never leave Scratch’s side everywhere she went Colleen would follow her. I suppose it explained a lot as to why she was never more than the other room away or around the corner. All of them where the elite that Ponykind could offer shy of a Marestartes, Lyre got a bit of chill up his spine glad that they were content to be on the other side of the planet wiping out heretic encampments to ready for the eventual invasion, those beings where truly the only thing that scared him anymore. His comm bead chirped in his ear it was Lightning, reporting that a possible LZ or landing zone had been cleared and secured. Now it was time of the rest of the team to move and eliminate their objective. He turned to Scratch and nodded his approval she moved and began shouting orders to the others in the assault team and they made their way out another exit to the west of the door the prisoners escaped. Lyre looked back and scanned the prison cells on last time to make sure no Empress fearing pony remained in the cells. He exited and nodded to Beatrice who nodded back with a manic grin on her face as she pressed a switch on a controller blowing the room to the Warp.
Well no going back now, he thought with a pang of regret he was worried about the other three members of his team. Not to mention the almost fifty other souls he may have just sent to their deaths instead of their salvations
He was alive again, of that much he was sure. He was finally alive again, thank the Empress he got to feel this rush one more time. He realized it could be his last time and it made him smile not a manic smile of one who has lost his mind. Rather it was the content smile of an old colt ready to die. He could die happy just being in a life or death situation again… He was an Assassin of the Equinsition again, he was freed by those fools from Imperial shackles and now they unleashed him on this hell hole that holds some significance to them… It matters not the reasons he was free to hunt… To kill… He stopped and watched a hurried mass of ponies pass under him as he perched high in the rafter of the old sanctuary proper, now converted into a makeshift torture chamber. He was high enough they could not see him, not that they seemed to care. He analyzed the situation quickly, several Guardponies most likely Kasrcolts, escorting former prisoners. None of them his target… No! His prey… he smiled again that same smile again but this time it had the twinge of a predator on the hunt. His time was growing short his prey may flee the premises. Worse if he failed he'd end up back in that cage. He paused his expression soured at the thought, no he could not permit that not again. He leapt from rafter to rafter till he reached the door below him he dropped down silent as a shadow and slipped through back on his hunt. He caught the attention of the brown colt only for a second, he did not care, and nothing mattered but his hunt…
*****
Doc stopped and turned for a moment to stare at a doorway on the other side of the torture chamber he squinted and tried to make out the form of that shadow he barely caught slipping through there…
'DOC!' Beatrice yelled out and he turned to face her, she signaled to move out with a nod of his head. He looked back at the door for a moment the specter was gone with no sign all he could see was the lights in the hallway beyond. He scowled slightly and moved on with the rest of the group. They hadn’t encountered any real resistance up to this point, but the evidence of Lightning and Octavia was everywhere. Doc rejoined the group and began to assess them all, many of the group where slowing now though, fatigue from years of imprisonment, malnutrition and torture was taking their toll on the pony’s bodies. He worried that they may not make it to the landing site in time. Beatrice must have feared this too has she began to herd the prisoners more enthusiastically and with a little more determination. A chirp came over the comm bead and Octavia’s voice spoke out
'Bird in bound, eta 5 mikes!' She sounded panicked and it sounded as if there was gunfire in the background.
'Octavia is the LZ still secured?' He asked, he waited for a long moment until finally,
‘It is now haha, we had a minor incident with a random patrol…. Heh like I said though it was minor.’ Lightning responded.
‘Ok we are on the way.’ Beatrice nodded to him as he looked back to make sure the group was still following. They were all but crawling now but they weren't far now they had covered a lot of ground but they needed just a little more to get them there safely. 'If we don’t get them soon more patrols and guards will begin to move toward the explosion…' He thought this as he scanned ahead down the hallway leading to the platform exit. He had to get them on their feet many had to sit now mostly the badly beaten and the elderly. ‘Ponies,’ he shouted out and many looked down the hall at him even Collen who was pulling rear guard looked over her shoulder, ‘We must press on! The landing zone is close which mean your freedom is nigh!’ He looked out at their faces many were sunken and many looked defeated. ‘You are all close to being rid of this place and soon we will destroy it,’ Their eyes lit up with a new fire and many started to get to their feet, ‘now then citizens of the Imperium, the Empress will see your courage and pass her blessings down upon you! We shall prevail today and so shall you!’ With a cheer they rose to their feet and started down the hall some needed help and leaned on a few of the Guardponies but still hobbled quickly to their freedom. As she passed Collen patted Doc on the shoulder, he wasn't sure if he believed what he said about the Empress, but the prisoners did and as they moved through the doorway to the outdoor landing pad the Valkyrie lander began to make it’s decent. Landing gear kicked out and the ramp began to drop finally Doc believed he could breathe a sigh of relief. ‘Maybe the Empress is watching, maybe there is some justice in this universe,’ he thought all these things as the civilians loaded on the back of the aircraft. He smiled as the Valkyrie took off slowly and the ramp closed. ‘Maybe I was wrong about a lot of things.’ This was his last thought as he turned head back inside, the Valkyrie exploded in a hellish fire ball in the sky the wreckage of which came plummeting down on top of Bulk and himself.
Colleen, Octavia, Lightning and Beatrice turned to look at the terror unfolding before them. From the other side of the walk way leading to the platform a barrage of Lasfire, and a rocket, came at them from the door. The rocket exploded some cargo in front of Lightning and knocked her back the remaining members of the rescue team hunkered down and returned fire.
He heard the muffled explosion before he heard the calls over his comm-bead. Beatrice’s team had run into an ambush and the rescue bird was shot down before his team could finish shutting down the security systems. It was his responsibility, he promised the defenses would be down. He had to stop that, now, he shook the thoughts from his head this wasn't the time for doubts and second guessing, he had troops he needed to save now that all hell was breaking loose. He switched over to the inter-squad command net. Bale’s and Steelgrip’s squads had also run into ambushes near their objectives. It was trap…. The whole operation became a trap. Steelgrip’s demo-teams had placed the charges to bring The Spire down and Bale’s security squad had thought they had control of most of the Spire. Lyre’s team was simply meant to disable the air defenses and secure an LZ. He realized that the security control room they were in route to was probably an ambush as well. He called for a short halt and called up Scratch.
‘Everything is falling to the Warp,’ he looked Scratch in the face and she stared back through the sunshades, ‘We need to be careful every other squad, besides Beatrice’s team, is under attack now.’
‘Shit was it all a trap?!?’ She whispered loudly, the irritation and stress in her voice was clear.
‘I think so but we still need to get the air defenses down and go and get the others at the hasty LZ.’ She nodded her approval acknowledging they were both on the same track.
‘So what, we hit hard and fast try to spring the trap before it hits us too hard?’
‘There may not be a trap actually,' he mulled it over of a second, 'hear me out, the squad which ambushed Beatrice and her team may have been on the way to hit us as we moved back.' He sighed not too pleased with his next idea, ‘only one way to find out…’ He got up and started to run down the hall toward the door and the large opened foyer around it, leaving Scratch and the others in shock and disbelief. He got to the end of the hall and started into the foyer which had several adjacent hallways branching off of it. He looked all around him down the halls and up on the ceiling for snipers and ambushers. He stopped in the middle of the foyer and brought his weapon up and continued to scan. Seconds, turned to minutes nothing happened he signaled to the rest of the team to move up. Scratch moved up with another two ponies, two of the prisoners freed earlier both seemed fit enough and wanted to go with them when the group split up. One was a male Guardpony captured during the outbreak of the insurrection, The other a civilian mare. She just wanted to help and seemed to be able to hold her own so far, however he wasn't too happy about having either of them with his team but the Colt seemed confident he could help with the hacking into the security system. So he took them both on what he hoped wasn't another poor decision, the only thing he could count as a win was as least some of the prisoners may survive. The colt moved across the foyer to a door Lyre assumed was the security room, at least by the intel they received it should have been. He pulled the cover off the control lectern and began setting to work. Scratch moved one of the doors and kept watch down the hall, the other mare did the same on another hall. Lyre who was protecting the colt as he worked leaned back a little and asked him,
‘You know what you're doing Guardpony?’ The colt looked up for a second and replied.
‘Specialist Thunderlane sir, and I specialize in field intelligence gathering. I was trained by tech priests to hack both Imperial and Xeno systems. Make sense of what you are looking at.’ He paused for a moment as a spark unlocked the door and made it fly up. ‘And keep it a secret,’ he smiled broadly at Lyre who nodded his approval at his handy work, ‘I’ve been feeding those cultist whack jobs lies for months, false intel. I was captured deliberately you see.’ They talked as he walked over the control lectern in the center of the room sure enough it was the security room. Scratch and the mare fell back to the door and started keeping an eye out from the inside of the room. ‘Sir I was placed in the Spire by the Lord Castellan,’ Lyre stopped, his look of disbelief was all Thunderlane needed to see to know he should keep going, he pushed a lock of his ragged silver name from his eyes and began punching codes into the lectern, ‘You see sir the Spire was a target for years now since it fell to Chaos. The Lord Castellan thought it prudent to place an agent into the Spire, so when the time came they could assist. Sadly I was captured when the convoy bringing me for insertion was ambushed. So instead of being a double agent I became a prisoner. I assume the Lord Castellan thought me dead,’ he continued to work the lectern and he smiled as several screens light up with messages and went from a green light to red, ‘but I knew that you would all come to destroy this place. So I stayed alive as long as I could and kept waiting for either the war to end or myself to be killed.’ He seemed at ease to say this, or maybe it was that finally all the light went from green to red and a notice popped up that the security was shut down. He smiled back up at Lyre, Scratch walked up and clapped him on the back.
‘Son I could kiss you!’ She said smiling, Thunderlane shrugged and reached up and kissed her right on the mouth. She pushed him off in shock, her face was red and so was the mare’s, Thunderlane looked over to see she was now watching too. He smiled at them both and Scratch winked at him before slapping his muzzle. He smiled goofily still as he went over to the mare and apologized. Lyre motioned toward them and Scratch explained her name was Erin Roseluck she was a florist who was captured during the insurrection. She was tortured, beaten and worse but, Thunderlane was the only one who comforted her. A chirp in their comm beads caught Lyre and Scratch’s attention.
‘We need to move!!’ Lyre grabbed Thunderlane and jammed his hel-pistol into his hoof. Scratch did the same with Erin the both nodded and followed suit as Lyre pulled up a map of the Spire on his wrist display. He pointed down another hallway than the one they came down before. The team moved out quickly as another cluster of demo charges destroyed the security room behind them.
He saw them go from the shadows. They took his prey and prolonged his hunt. Good he wasn't ready to stop just yet, he slid out from his hiding place as several other armed ponies came crashing into the foyer. They stopped and one barked a command at him. He turned slowly and half faced the group, he gave them a manic look, his pupils were all but dots in his eyes. The group was visibly shocked and two of them stepped back the one he now assumed to be their leader, barked again in his guttural language. He demanded he turn and put his hands up. He smiled at them and turned to face them now, he began to laugh. ‘I guess my hunt will have to wait’ he thought as he lunged at the cultist soldiers.
