Equestrian Sixthby Sandstorm InkwellChaptersUnknown AlliesHeresyLost in TranslationWar In The StreetsUnknown AlliesPrivate Windward had woken to a glorious day in the service of the Princesses. What had started out a nice day had been slightly marred when he was sent to quell a residential disturbance in the middle class section of the city that was Canterlot. When he had gotten there, it was as simple as tell them to “stop”. Why the pony who brought it to the attention of the Royal Guard didn't do that first, he'd never know. On the way back to the castle, however, he heard the shield dome that had covered the city shatter like so many panes of glass. The shards had luckily disappeared before they could cause damage but the green comets impacting the city did enough to make up for it. One of the comets had slammed into a wall of one of the houses, bringing the facade down on top of itself. Windward had already cleared the streets with a few shouts but he could still see the citizen looking out the windows. Surprisingly, from the debris, crawled a Changeling. It's carapace was covered in dirt but it otherwise appeared unharmed. The tapping of hooves against cobblestone caused Windward to turn to see another Changeling advancing to him. Their eyes, those deep blue fields, seemed to be looking at him with hostility. Thinking back to his training, he tried to bring up everything he could remember of his hoof-to-hoof exercises. That was when they attacked. At first it was green bolts, which Windward dodged with a twisting of his body and a flap of his wings. Then they came into hoof range and then began the real fight. The two Changelings laid into the Private, denting armor and bruising skin. The fight was far from one-sided as the Private dealt out damage to the Changelings. Granted, it was less so than the damage to him but it was still damage. He saw a Changeling's horn glow and twisted his body in time to dodge it as he engaged it's partner. When the second Changeling's horn glowed, Windward jumped away, watching the bolt slam into the ground. A green light gave Windward barely enough warning to duck away from a bolt by the first Changeling. The two Changelings stood next to each other as they glared the lone Guardspony. That was when it appeared. A bright red light smacked into the first Changeling, stunning the creature. Windward watched as he blinked once before three more red bolts smacked into it. The assaulted Changeling fell to the cobblestone street, it's green blood leaking into the cracks between the stones. Turning, Windward felt his eyes widen and jaw drop at what he saw. There, in the same debris that the first Changeling had crawled from, was a being unlike any the Private had seen. From what he could see, it had black plates over a blue hide with a strangely styled white mane. In it's... claws-the only word Windward knew to describe them-was a strange black box that shined dully in Her sun. Flashes, like a red strobe light in one of the undercity's clubs, blocked the creature from view. He watched as red bolts flew past him before he heard the 'clunk' of carapace against stone. That was a good twenty minutes ago. Now, fighting with everything he has, Windward couldn't help but feel a little outmatched by the bipedal creature. It had attached a blade to the end of the box, turning it into a makeshift spear before charging into the new swarm of Changelings, it's guttural and harsh words lost on Windward's ears. He had briefly watched as the blade went through a Changeling that was then tossed at another of the insect like ponies. Then, with a punch to the muzzle, Windward himself was sucked into the lopsided melee. He didn't know why he had followed the alien when it had charged the massive swarm. Every instinct had told him to run after all. However, the young Private just couldn't shake the feeling that the black and blue bipedal would lead them to victory against the Changelings. There was something about the way he fought that hinted to a deep knowledge of the way of battle. It almost appeared as if his race was born to wage war. A chilling thought to have but, given the current situation, it was a welcomed one. Hitting a Changeling with his forehoof, Windward watched it fall the street. Did he knock it out cold? He could hit again to make sure but that would be wrong wouldn't it? Surely excessive force wasn't required. The Princesses were bound to find a way to eject this menace from their city. His musings were interrupted by a loud smack followed by the cracking of what a lot like bones. In front of him was a Changeling head. Was being the operative word as it had been replaced by a green-splattered blue leg, blood, and what only resembled a head. Following the leg, Windward was met with the biped's stern face. It's sunken eyes glared at the Private and he got the sudden notion that if the Changelings weren't there, his head would've been underneath that hoof. The creature's mouth moved, eliciting grunts that appeared to be it's language. While Windward didn't understand the words, he could guess what it said by it's tone and the current situation. “No mercy” and “Don't hesitate” made it high up the list of possible phrases. With it's message spoken, Windward watched as it turned at the significantly thinned horde. Looking at the horde as well, the Private could see fear on their faces. The emotion was not directed at him but at the bipedal creature next to him. Looking again at the creature, Windward watched as a smaller box dropped away from the bigger box in it's claws. With the smaller box clattering to the ground, the being pulled another from pockets that hung over it's armor and slid it into the bigger box. A short whine sounded. CRA-CRA-CRA-CRA-CRA-CRA-CRA-CRACK!-hiss Windward's ears flattened against his head as the box flashed and spat red bolts at the horde. Changelings dropped from the barrage of light, their blood seeping across the stones and splattering their comrades. The Guardspony saw a few of the Changelings turn tail and run, either on hoof or by air. The rest, however, charged their own attack and fired green bolts back at Windward and the bipedal. “By the Sisters!” Windward cried as he fell to his stomach in an effort to avoid the bolts. Looking over, he saw that the bipedal had also gotten flat against the road, though with a scorch mark over the strange double headed eagle on it's left arm plate. When the barrage had passed overhead, Windward saw the bipedal look at the eagle. An indescribable anger overtook it's strange features as it muttered in it's brutish language. With a roar that could have disguised a few of it's words, the creature stood and charged at the Changelings. Windward watched as it speared one before letting go of the box, picking up a Changeling and using it's horn to spear another. It then yanked out it's box and slashed at the insect ponies. All the while, it was shouting something in it's harsh language. Windward could only guess at what it was saying. “-DARE SCORCH THE HOLY AQUILLA? I WILL SEND YOU BACK TO THE WARP IN A THOUSAND PIECES YOU FO-” At any rate, Windward was glad that it's anger was focused on the Changelings and not on him. Thankful for the brief respite, Windward looked into the sky to see his pegasi brethren of the Royal Guard dueling with airborne Changelings. He briefly thought of taking off to join them. That thought was squashed when he remembered the bipedal being. As scary as it was, he had to help it. So, with a sigh, the Private charged into the fray, hoof slamming into a Changeling's face sending a bolt flying into the road next to the bipedal. Corporal Gravitational Lift twisted the hilt of his sword to release suction before pulling it from the dead Changeling. Unlike the Private far below him, he had no qualms with killing these creatures. They had invaded their capital, had threatened innocent ponies, and, lastly, it was his duty to protect Equestria from things like these Changelings by any means necessary. If that meant sending a few to Tartarus by his hoof, than so be it. The Sisters would undoubtedly forgive him. Following the corpse as it dropped, his eyes settled on something moving swiftly across the rooftops. He saw black but it didn't look like a Changeling, especially with the white on it's head. He thought he could catch a glimpse of a dark blue beneath the black and it appeared to be running on two legs. While this was strange, his attention quickly shifted to the Changeling that appeared to be trying to sneak up on the unknown creature. “Not on my watch,” Lift murmured as he dove down at the Changeling, sword first. While he didn't know what the two-legged creature was, the attacking Changeling indicated it as an enemy of the hive. To the pegasus, that was enough for him to consider it a friend that was worth defending. He felt the wind buffet him as he dived. He caught a glimpse of another fight as a Changeling, followed closely by a pegasus Guard, flew in front of him. He used his wings as ailerons and his trail as a rudder to guide him on target. This was his duty, nothing else mattered. His sword hit first, impaling the flying Changeling but doing little to slow Lift's momentum. Flaring his wings, Lift swung his rear hooves underneath him as he flapped with all his might to slow himself down. He slowed himself enough where he wouldn't break anything but when he landed, he still felt a sharp jolt of pain run up his hind legs, up his spine, and be registered in his brain. A loud clank had also sounded when his sword hit and buried itself about a inch into the tiling of the roof. Between the hoof guard and the roof was the dead Changeling, blood leaking past the metal of the sword. Hearing hooves on tile, he turned to see the bipedal aiming the end of a strange box at him. He saw it's eyes, which looked to be too small, dart between him and the Changeling impaled on his sword. It then opened it's mouth and... spoke. At least, Lift assumed it did. The words sounded harsh but the voice sounded soft. The contradiction left Lift slightly confused. Though, while he couldn't understand what it said, he could take a guess. “You're welcome,” he said, yanking his sword free of both roof and flesh. Now it was the alien's turn to look confused as it tilted it's head at Lift. He noticed then that the white was not it's mane but was actually some sort of headwear. It's mane, a brown in color, was instead pulled back into a tight ponytail. The confusion left the bipedal, however, as the sound of combat rang from the street below. Lift watched it give him a cautious glance before it moved to the edge of the roof. The pegasus followed it, both interested about it and eager to leap back into battle. Looking down, he could see a mixture of civilian and Guardsponies fighting a group of Changelings. For once, it appeared as if the numbers were equal on both sides. The lack of training in the civilians, though, tipped it to the Changelings. As Lift readied to jump into the fight, a bright red flash made him falter. He watched in shock as a Changeling blew apart, spraying it's sickly colored blood over everything that was nearby. Turning, he saw the bipedal shift a bit in it's crouch, the box against it's shoulder. A metal rod that he hadn't seen before stuck from the front of the box with a large cylinder at the end. Without warning, the end of the cylinder flashed red, temporarily blinding Lift. Turning to look at the fight, he blinked away the spots in time to see a Changeling fall to the street, a large hole in it's side. Eyes blinking in shock, he looked to at the bipedal... to see that it was gone. Spinning around, he saw it darting across the rooftops again. He wondered why it left, the fight in the street was far from over. However, a quick glance did confirm that it turned the tides enough to give the ponies a chance. Maybe that was all it was doing, turning the tides. With no specific orders and the wanting to keep this unknown ally alive, Lift took off after it. He may not know what it was, or be able to understand it, but he'd be damned if a being with such a powerful weapon would be left to die. As he flew alongside it, he saw it glance at him with unsureness and suspicion. That was fine by him, so long as it continued to attack the Changelings. “Should we, uh- should we help it?” asked Crescent Shot, rubbing a hoof unconsciously against his burnt patch of skin. “No. No, I-I think we just let it be,” answered Crimson Shield, shaking her head slowly, her eyes never leaving the sigh in front of her. In front of them was a large bipedal being of unknown origin with a... something on it's back that fed a... other something in it's claws that seemed to spit fire at the Changeling mass that had been recently attacking the trio of Guards. “Do either of you know what it is?” asked the third of their group, Barricade. “It's an unknown being with a weapon that spits fire,” replied Crescent. A series of harsh sounds met their ears as the being swept it's weapon side to side, “and appears to be laughing.” “So... dangerous?” Barricade finished. “Highly,” Crimson stated. “We gonna stop it?” Barricade asked. “Doubt it,” Crescent answered as he sat on his haunches. “What are you doing? Crimson asked, looking at Crescent in confusion. “Enjoying the show.” “Good idea,” Barricade said as he also sat down. “You two are unbelievable,” Crimson sighed as she too sat down, looking at the brutish bipedal. She watched as it smacked aside a Changeling with it's weapon before dousing it in a spear of flame. “Sooo, anypony bring popcorn?” Crescent asked. “HEHE! BURN! HEHE!” Author's Note No specific song for this one. Just lots and lots of ponystep. I am honestly SHOCKED by how fast this took off. By the Sisters/Emperor, it had even gotten into the 'Popular Stories' listing. Thank you all for the support and I hope you keep on reading. HeresyBreathing heavily, Jvarn looked around at the carnage that he had caused. The xeno had attempted to help but it had always hesitated at the killing blow, leaving Jvarn to finish it off. The corpses of the black insectoids littered the street. Their vile green ichor, the connection to the color of Chaos and it's irony not lost on the trooper, leaked onto the street. Yanking his blade from one such corpse, Jvarn walked over to his discarded charge pack. Picking it up, he put it in the empty pouch on his harness. He was sure that he could find a way to charge the things on this xeno world. Even if he couldn't, the metal would make a great bludgeoning tool to bring His will upon the unworthy. Looking at the winged-horse, he could see it looking around, it's over expressive face displaying awe and fear. When Jvarn's boot had crushed in the head of the insectoid the xeno had failed to kill, the trooper had though of killing the equine. Yet, something had stayed his hand, instead resorting to try to insult the xeno. Whether it understood the insult, Jvarn wasn't able to tell. The wanting to do penitence for his hesitation to dispose of the xeno crossed the troopers mind. The noise around him shuffled away that wanting. The city still gave the roar of war and Jvarn would be damned if he did not answer it's call. A sudden movement from the xeno had Jvarn aiming his lasgun at it's head. His finger had the trigger halfway depressed when it saw it indicating a direction with it's hoof. A twitch. That's all it would take to end the xeno's life. The xeno apparently realized this as it's expression turned to one of fear, it's eyes locked on the end of the barrel. The silence between the two was so great that they could hear the drop of green blood that fell from the blade as it hit the ground. At least, they would have been able to. The roar of war was quite loud. Biting back a curse, Jvarn removed his finger from the trigger and moved his rifle away from the xeno. It continued to stare at his rifle for a couple seconds before it shook it's head. The trooper watched as it motioned again with it's hoof before taking off at a gallop down the street. “Emperor forgive me for my sins,” Jvarn muttered before taking off after the xeno. He followed it down the road, scanning for any more insectoids. Suddenly, the xeno flared it's wings and darted down a side street. Reaching the street himself, Jvarn turned to see more of the insectoids. This time, however, there were a couple of the xenos engaging the carapaced attackers. Some wore armor like the winged-horse he had followed while others wore nothing at all. “Vile creatures,” Jvarn muttered again as he raised his rifle and let off a trio of shots at the insectoid group. The new xeno group looked at him in surprise but a few melodic words from the winged-horse he had followed sent their attention back to the insectoids. The Venite paid little attention to the horses as he fired at the insectoids, calmly walking towards the melee as he did. One of the black creatures fell with a hole in it's carapace, the wound smoking. That was not my round, came Jvarn's thought as he stopped shooting to look around for the shooter. Another insectoid was felled. Looking up, Jvarn spotted the shooter and smiled as he saw the white beret and blue uniform of the Six's Sixth. The shooter locked eyes with Jvarn and the male trooper immediately recognized Kilm's trademark smirk as she waved at him. Her waving hand then pointed to the battle. Taking the message, Jvarn turned back to the fight. Throwing himself into the melee, he slashed, shot, and kicked any insectoid that came near him. He was vaguely aware of the wounds he was collecting from these fights and of the insectoids falling from Kilm's long-las. Now he only had to find Hayt. Jvarn knew that all he had to do was find the biggest fire. “I hate you guys!” Crescent shouted as he flapped his leathery wings hard, trying to stay far in front of the large bipedal pursuing him. They had winded through the streets like this, bipedal chasing Crescent. “Hey, at least he stopped with the fire right?” Crimson asked as she galloped over the rooftops, slightly behind Crescent and to his right. “Yeah! Cheer up Crescent!” Barricade shouted as he galloped over the rooftops to Crescent's left. “Buck you!” he cried as he turned left onto a new road. A flash of light and Crimson was suddenly on the rooftops to his right again. Crescent smirked though as he saw the Changelings at the end of this street. They had been moving in a patrol formation. Crescent expected they were looking for ponies to drain. Too bad for them, the bipedal trailing Crescent had a particular hatred of the insect ponies. Of course, this fact couple with it's confusion of Crescent being a Changeling had gotten the bat pony into this mess. “Let 'em have it big guy!” shouted the Night Guard as he banked up and into the sky. Stopping a little above roof height, the bat pony looked down and smiled. Below him, the bipedal was sweeping the flames back and forth over the Changeling patrol. Their death cries filled the air as their soft innards were cooked by the searing flames. “Yeah!” Crescent cried as he gave a hoof pump. He watched as the last of the patrol dropped dead. “Onto the next one!” Barricade shouted. “Right!” Crescent shouted back before flying into the bipedal's line of sight. The stallion was a bit surprised when a spear of flame didn't reach out towards him. It looked at him with an almost expectant attitude. The Night Guard wondered if it knew that he would lead it to more Changelings. “This way!” shouted the bat pony before taking off down the road, glancing back to see the bipedal following. Hayt was no fool. After he realized that the leather winged xeno was able to stay out of his flamer's reach, he had opted to conserve fuel or else lose his precious baby. After the fire high, as he called it, died down, he was able to spot the two horned xenos galloping on the rooftops on either side of him. The three aliens spoke to each other with melodic voices as they ran. When the xeno drew his attention before taking off after the first group of insectoids, he realized their plan. They were leading him through the city to where they thought the insectoids were. He found himself briefly insulted by the idea of being used by the xenos. The will to burn overrode that feeling, however, and drove him to follow the xenos. After decimating three more groups of the insectoids, Hayt wondered where the xenos were dragging him. Did they even know? Were they just taking random courses and hoping to run into the patrols? Would they turn on him? By now, he had also realized that the two horned xenos were psykers, though they possessed the strange ability to teleport themselves from rooftop to rooftop. At first, he had been alarmed. They were xeno psykers! They had to be purged! Then, another fire high drowned out that feeling and replaced it with another: as long as they continued to fuel his desire to burn, he would not try to burn them. Rounding a corner, he almost ran into the back of the leathery winged xeno. The heat from his flamer's pilot light startled the xeno and sent it spiraling into the air, revealing the scene on the street. Colorful xenos fought the black insectoids, corpses of each littering the street. That's not what drew his attention, however. It was the Guardsman in the middle of the melee, slashing and stabbing at the insectoids. With a renewed sense of purpose, Hayt charged into the fray, his flamer discharging righteous fire into the thickest of insectoid groups. Sometimes his flames licked the hides of the colorful xenos but he didn't care about their well-being. Reaching his squad mate, Hayt roasted an insectoid that was behind him before stepping up with his back to Jvarn's. “Hayt! How nice of you to show up!” Jvarn greeted, a sarcastic tone in his voice as he bayoneted an insectoid. “Yeah! My alarm went off late!” Hayt replied as he kicked an insectoid to the street before crushing in it's skull, being mindful of it's spiked horn. With his boot still in the green goop, he swept his flamer over a trio of the insectoids, smiling in glee as they screamed in agony. “Is Kilm here?” “Overwatch,” was Jvarn's simple reply. As if on cue, the head of an insectoid in front of Hayt exploded in a brilliant display of gore. “So I see,” Hayt replied with a chuckle. “What do you think of the xenos?” Jvarn asked with barely disguised disgust, clubbing an insectoid with the butt of his rifle as he did. “Friendly-” “Heresy.” “-for xenos.” “They have psykers amongst them,” Jvarn stated as a pink bolt flew close to the duo before slamming into an insectoid. “So I've seen.” “They deserve to be purged in the name of the God-Emperor.” “Indeed. In His name.” “You disagree?” “We are highly outnumbered.” “They are a primitive race.” “We only have so many rounds. Then it comes to blades and they have much more than we do,” Hayt explained as he turned and roasted an insectoid that Jvarn had bayoneted. Feeling a presence to his other side, Hayt turned to see Kilm standing with her back to the two. Her long-las was slung across her back and she now held a laspistol in her hands. “Weren't you on the rooftops?” Jvarn asked, noticing her presence as well. The two men reconfigured their stances to create a triangular effect with the woman. The fighting continued as the insectoids had been reinforced during the Guardsmen's debate. “I was. The winged xeno with me was kind enough to deliver me to the street,” she explained, firing a pair of las-rounds into an insectoid. “You let one touch you?” Jvarn asked in disgust. “It was that or jump down and I like having my bones unbroken, thank you,” she retorted, “Besides, it did save my life.” “There's three of them now?” Crescent asked as he was joined by Crimson and Barricade in the melee that was occurring in the street. “They look to be friends,” Barricade stated as he bucked a Changeling away from the trio. Crimson looked at the bipedals and took note of their uniforms. She then rolled her eyes. “What gave it away?” she asked sarcastically as she used a magical shield to push a Changeling into a wall with enough force to kill it. “The talking.” With confusion, Crimson looked back at the bipedals to see that they did seem to be talking amongst themselves. She wondered why they would be talking during a battle. Realizing that was doing just that, Crimson felt the urge to facehoof. “Any of you two wondering what the Sisters are doing right are?” Crescent asked as he shot a crossbow bolt into a Changeling before hitting another with his free forehoof. A bright pink flash made the three Guardsponies look in the direction of the castle. “What the hay?” Crescent asked. A pink wall suddenly passed through them, the magical discharge causing their bodies to tingle. Looking around, they were met with a street devoid of the black demons. “Weren't there Changelings here a second ago?” Barricade questioned. “Weren't the bipedals on their hooves as well?” Crescent added before taking off to the three prone, still figures in the street. They appeared to have just passed out. Crescent assumed that the pink whatever it was may have reacted negatively with them. To be sure, the Night Guard gently shook the flame wielding bipedal. “Hey big guy, you there?” he asked, readying himself to fly away should it awake and wish to burn him. When he got no response, he looked at the other two to see Guardsponies trying to shake them awake as well. Neither got a response. Crescent could see that they were breathing though. That was good right? “So,” Crescent looked up at the sword wielding pegasus Day Guard that hovered next to the smaller of the three, “anypony know what these things are?” He was met with numerous shaking heads. He gave a sigh as he looked down at the smaller bipedal, “Didn't think so.” Author's Note Thanks for the support and criticism. Hopefully I answered a few questions that y'all had. If I didn't (or if new ones formed) don't be afraid to leave a comment. Lost in Translation“Ugh,” Jvarn groaned as he opened his eyes to a dull, flickering light. Shaking his head, he realized that he was laying on a bed of hay. Jumping to his feet, Jvarn examined his surroundings. He was in a small room with three walls made of stone and the fourth of iron bars. A cell; he was in a cell. Letting out a growl, Jvarn continued to examine the cell. On two other beds of hay, he saw Kilm and Hayt. Both were still unconscious and still wore their uniforms and flask-vest. To that point, so was he. It looked that the only thing missing were their weapons. “Kilm? Hayt?” Jvarn asked, cautiously moving to the other two Guardsmen. He kept an eye planted on the open side of the cell, waiting for when their captors came to see if they were awake or not. Kilm's eyes fluttered open as a hand went to her head. “Wha-? Jvarn? Where are we?” she asked as she got up to a sitting position and groggily looked around at their cell. “In a cell. Those xenos must have captured us after we passed out.” “What was that light anyways?” Kilm asked as she got to her feet and approached the bars. “No idea,” Jvarn replied as he moved to Hayt and shook the man's shoulder, “Hayt.” A hand struck out and grabbed Jvarn's forearm in a vice grip. A second later, Hayt's eye opened to see Jvarn over him instead of whatever evil his mind had imagined. The grip on Jvarn's arm lessened until the hand fell away. “Apologies,” Hayt muttered as he yawned and rubbed at his eyes, removing his rebreather as he lowered his hands. “Get up. We've been captured,” Jvarn stated as he got back to his feet and moved to where Kilm stood by the iron bars. “They took our weapons,” Hayt observed as he got to a sitting position with his elbows on his knees. “Glad to see your not on one of your 'fire-highs' Hayt,” Jvarn replied with sarcasm as he looked down the row of cells across from theirs. None of the other cells were occupied. “Seems strange, doesn't it?” Kilm asked as she motioned to the empty cell across from theirs. “Indeed, it's almost as if we are the only ones locked up.” “What I meant,” Hayt interjected as he got to his feet, “is that they only took our weapons. We still have everything else. Entrenching tool, rebreathers, rations, lamp packs, you name it.” “Apparently they've never seen what an Entrenching tool can do against flesh,” Jvarn stated with a smile as he felt the familiar weight against his right thigh. However, he couldn't shake Hayt's point. Surely they would've stripped them of more than just weapons. Wouldn't they? Kilm stepped away from the bars and walked back to her straw bed against the far wall. Sitting down with her back against the wall, she opened a pouch on her armor and pulled out the two pieces of the familiar instrument. “Since we're gonna be here awhile,” she muttered. Putting the pieces together, she placed the mouthpiece against her lower lip. Adjusting her sitting position and grip, she began to blow into the instrument, a tune familiar to the two other Guardsman filling the cell. “In the darkest hour of night, they pack their bags,” began Hayt, hesitantly joined by Jvarn. Their voices were off-key with the flute but neither paid it heed. This was their song; the song that had played when they had left their homeworld, “They march to fight, under the golden flags. Born to sail, heading to fight in the black seas. Never fail, they will be as brave as any Astartes.” The flute seemed to wail as it went into a solo of fast flying notes. When the solo ended, the two troopers continued singing, “Regiments of Veno Six, heading off with nothing but picts. In the service of the Emperor, you will make our existence happier. When you are called to die, remember your cry. Puskai Veno. Puskai Imperiar.” The cell delved into silence before Kilm began a new tune on her flute. It was just a simple tune, no signing involved. This left the two other troopers to close their eyes, sway to the music, and think of their oceanic home. “Sister, we think it unwise to try to converse with those... brutes. According to the Guard they were able to dispatch the Changelings with ruthlessness unheard of since...” “The Nightmare Uprising?” offered Celestia as she watched her sister's head lower in shame. Gently putting a hoof under Luna's chin, she raised her sister's head so that the Night Princess was looking at her, “I have already forgiven you for that. There is no need to still feel shame over the past.” “Of course Tia. I just wish it didn't come to that in the first place,” Luna explained as she looked at her sister with a thousand year sorrow. “Me too,” Celestia agreed with a sigh. She then looked at the two Guardspony standing in front of a plain wooden door. An iron latch held it securely shut, “However, we have bigger things to attend to right now.” Luna nodded as the two approached the wooden door. That Guardsponies came to attention and while one saluted, the other undid the latch and opened the door. All present were startled when the sad cry of a flute echoed from the dungeon halls. “Who gave them an instrument?” Celestia asked of the saluting guard. His shock had caused him to falter in his salute, but he quickly became as stiff as a statue once more. “Nopony did, Your Highness. Nopony's been in there since their incarceration,” he reported, his hoof firmly against his brow. Celestia nodded as the sad cry of the flute continued to echo forth. “Such a sad sounding tune for beings of such ferocity, eh Luna?” Celestia asked, looking back at her sister to see a look of curiosity on her face. “Indeed sister. Shall we?” she asked while motioning to the dungeon halls with her hoof. Nodding, the solar princess entered the dank halls, her sister following behind her. From the shadows came a Guardspony in plain, gray iron armor, a sword sheathed across their back. This new arrival silently trailed the two Princesses, knowing both that he was unneeded and yet sworn to die before he stepped away from his rulers. The two sisters walked towards the growing sound of the flute, their curiosity growing with each passing second. When they got to the cell, they were standing side by side in front of the iron bars, taking in the sight before them. The aliens, as they weren't natural to Equus, sat on their straw beds, backs to the wall. Like the reports stated, they appeared to be bipedal in nature with claws on their other appendages. All of them had their eyes closed as the smaller of the three played away on it's flute. They wore what appeared to be clothes over their hides with armor over that. The dark blue and black coloring made one of Luna's brows go up in confusion. Celestia also looked on in confusion but more for the eagle painted on their shoulder pads. She thought that it'd be safe to assume that this was the emblem of their country. Of course, she began to think of why it had two heads to it. Maybe they were ruled by two leaders like Equestria was? It was at this time that the solar monarch realized that the flute playing alien was looking up at her and her sister. It did not stop it's playing, however. Celestia watched as it scanned the two mares with what she assumed to be an inquisitive, if not cautious, eye. The guttural speech that came next caused the two Princesses to jump in surprise. “There's a xeno standing outside the bars, isn't there?” Jvarn asked as he kept his eyes closed. He was still reminiscing of his youth aboard a HabShip and he did not feel like coming back to the real world. While the HabShips were cramped and the waves of the ocean meant you were always fighting for balance, it was still better than knowing you were a captive of a new xenos race. Especially when it consisted of colorful, talking horses. “Two, actually,” Hayt replied. Unlike Jvarn, he opened his eyes and peered at the two horses. He was shocked at their height, easily head and shoulder taller than the others he had seen. Where others had just a horn or wings, these had both horn and wings. Around their necks were decorative necklaces and crowns sat upon their heads. Though, what drew most of his attention was their manes. They seemed to move of their own power, waving in a breeze not present. The white coated one had a multi-hued mane of bright colors while the indigo horse had a mane like that of the night sky. “Detail?” Jvarn asked. Hayt looked over at him. The man still had his eyes closed and his arms crossed. “Leadership by their regalia. More of a horse stature with self-flowing manes.” “Self-flowing?” “Blowing in a breeze that isn't felt by others.” At this, Jvarn cracked his eyes open and took a glance at their captors. Sure enough, their manes were still flowing of their own accord. Giving a low growl, Jvarn closed his eyes to resume his previous pose. “Thoughts?” he asked. While this was happening, Kilm didn't stop playing, though her tune took on a more happier note. She also didn't stop watching the two horses standing outside their cell. “Currently held captive by obviously warp-touched beings of another species. No dedicated weapons at hand. Obvious language barrier,” at this, Hayt looked at their confused faces and chuckled, “We're still alive and not tortured as well. I say that we wait it out and see if we can't escape later.” “Agreed,” Jvarn stated from his spot against the wall. “It appears they are studying us, sister,” Luna stated as she leaned closer to her fellow alicorn. “It does feel that way,” Celestia agreed as she watched the bigger of the three look over the two alicorns. Then, with the sluggishness that would come from it's size, the big alien got to it's two hooves and marched to the bars. The two Princesses found it off-putting that the smaller of the three continued playing it's flute. As if being in the presence of the two alicorns meant nothing to it. When it got close, Celestia could make out the eagle and parchment on the front of it's beret. How she wished she could read what was inscribed on the parchment. It may have given them insight on where these beings came from. The large being stood quietly, just watching them as the two alicorns did the same. The third being, it's eyes still closed, spoke briefly. The two watched as the bigger one said something back, causing grunts of what they assumed to be laughter from the other. The big alien then brought up it's claws. It held one flat while using the appendage on one to move over the other. It appeared erratic but, after a few times, a light clicked in Luna's head. “I think it wants to draw us something,” she suggested, while floating out a piece of paper, quill, and inkwell from her bag. The being hesitated for a second before plucking the items from Luna's magical grasp. It then went back to it's bed and sat in such a way that the paper was blocked from view. The two bigger aliens conversed while the biggest drew. It wasn't long before it got back to it's feet and approached the two Princesses, equipment in it's grasp. It first offered the quill and inkwell, which Luna took. She noted the flinch and clenching of muscles when she levitated the items. Could this being not be used to magic? Was it abused by magic? Her thought was cut off as it offered the paper, held in a way that they couldn't immediately see what was on it. Celestia took it in her grasp and brought it up in front of the pair. Flipping it over, their mouth came open in confusion. There, on the paper was a crude drawing of what they assumed to be a group of Changelings. They appeared to have been swallowed by flames. Following the flame, they saw the creature itself with it's strange weapon in it's claws. The weapon was the origin of the flames. Behind the being, however, were what appeared to be ponies. They were cowering and looking in the direction of the being with fear. While the two alicorns couldn't be sure if the fear was directed at the being or the Changelings, they knew what the picture was trying to portray. They both looked up at the being to see that it had already gone back to it's bed and sat down with it's back against the wall. It had it's eyes closed and it's body moving to the tune of the flute. Even the smaller being, who had watched the two the entire time, had it's eyes closed once more. “Come sister. I think that is all we will get today,” Celestia stated. She got only a nod from Luna as the ponies beat a retreat from the dungeon halls. ...The shrill cry of the flute followed them until the wooden door swung closed. War In The Streets“Ugh.” A pile of debris shifted before a hand shot from it, scraped, bloody, and dirty. With a grunt of effort, the hand shoved off enough debris for a second hand to join the first. With two hands, the being continued to push off debris, it clattering to the cobblestone street. Finally, enough debris had been removed to allow the being to sit up. Eyelids fluttered to get rid of the dirt before brown eyes scanned the street. Now free from the debris, the being's hands fixed the once pure white beret that sat atop it's head. A pin decorated the front of the beret, depicting an eagle with wings swept back. In the eagle's talons was a standard issue las-rifle, a parchment tied to the barrel flowing underneath the eagle. Carved onto the parchment were the words; “Six's Fighting Sixth”. “Where the fok am I?” he asked, adjusting the black flack vest that rested over his dark blue uniform. A black pauldron rested over his left shoulder, depicting-in stark white-the Holy Aquilla of the Imperium of Man; a double headed eagle with wings outstretched. A green splash of energy swept up from the debris next to the Guardsman. Looking, he was met with a very interesting sight. Down the street were three equine creatures. Two were more insect like as the Guardsman could see their nearly transparent wings. The third was more of a normal horse besides the fact that it was wearing bright gold armor and had what looked to be wings poking from it. The Guardsman, Jvarn was his name, watched as the three fought. The two black, insectoids ganging against the winged-horse. Then, his jaw clenched as he watched a green bolt fly from one of the insectoids and nearly impact the winged-horse. “Witches,” Jvarn growled as he watched the other insectoid also fire off a green bolt of energy. Grabbing his las-rifle, which sat next to him in the debris, he brought the metal stock to his shoulder. Shifting himself into a crouch, Jvarn looked down his iron sights at the brawl. He didn't know what the winged-horse was or why it wore armor but he knew he had seen the insectoids use some sort of psychic power. If they were tainted by the warp, he would happily send them back to their dark gods. His finger tightened slowly around the trigger before the rifle gave a soft lurch. The softness of the recoil was compensated for by the harsh CRACK!-hiss of the rifle's report. The blood-red beam shot forth before striking one of the insectoid equines. It stumbled, blinking in surprise before three more las-rounds slammed it to the street. With it's carapace cracked, sickly green ichor leaked onto the road. The two other beings had frozen when the first round struck and looked directly at Jvarn after the insectoid fell against the street. He noted that their eyes were unusually large and he doubted it was completely due to surprise. Where the winged-horse's eyes looked much like his, the insectoid had blue eyes with a white, beady pupil. While the winged-horse looked on, slack-jawed, the insectoid hissed at Jvarn as it's horn began to glow the same sickly green as the first one's blood. Whatever it had planned to do, the three las-rounds that slammed into it interrupted it permanently. As it joined it's comrade on the street in eternal slumber, the winged-horse's surprised face turned to one of fear as Jvarn stepped from the debris pile and began to walk calmly towards it. He looked at the habs that he walked by, noticing that some looked to be stores. He also noticed that the doors and windows looked... smaller. It looked like they were built for the inhabitants of a low-gravity world and yet, he could feel that the gravity on this world was similar to his homeworld of Veno Six. Reaching the corpses, the winged-horse having stepped back from them, Jvarn prodded one with his boot. He could feel the carapace through his boot and raised an eyebrow from it. They were indeed insectoid equines. He had never heard of such a thing before and yet he couldn't say he was truly surprised. The Warp, the twisted home to Chaos, could produce any number of sensible or non-sensible beings to fight the Imperium. He couldn't help but feel, however, that this was not a product of the warp. It wasn't... twisted enough. A series of soft, melodic notes had Jvarn's rifle back to his shoulder and scanning for a threat. It had sounded like an Eldar and yet not like one. With confusion mounting, Jvarn lowered his rifle slightly when he didn't spot anything. Looking at the winged-horse, he could see the fear and confusion in it's expressive eyes. The coat of the creature was white, much like his beret had been, but the mane and tail were a vibrant blue. “You are a stange little creature,” he commented off-handedly. He watched it recoil in shock and couldn't help but think it to be an oddly human reaction for a beast of burden. Then it opened it's mouth and he knew that it could be no simple beast of burden. Soft, melodic notes seemingly swam from it's open mouth. “By the God-Empe-” A green bolt interrupted Jvarn as it flew in front of his face to impact a hab's wall. Looking at where it had come from, he could see more of the insectoid equines moving and... flying down the street to Jvarn and the, now revealed, xeno. The Guardsman looked at the armored xeno to see it glaring at the insectoids and preparing itself for a fight, it's wings spread in a predatory manner. After a brief argument in his mind, Jvarn removed his blade and affixed it to the bayonet lug on his rifle. Raising it up, he aimed at the insectoids. “Puskai Veno! Puksai Imperiar!” he yelled as he charged at the insectoids, his rifle cracking rapidly as it fired on full-auto. He could see the xeno charging along beside him. He knew he may regret not using it's brain matter to decorate his blade but the insectoids were the bigger problem now. With that thought in mind, he plunged his bayonet into an insectoid and flung it into one of it's brethren. With the green blood arcing through the sky, he felt himself smiling. Even if he was sided with a xeno, temporarily of course, he was still doing the Imperium a service by killing these warp tainted creatures. Elsewhere in the city, a trio of foals were backed into a corner by a lone Changeling. It bared it's fangs menacingly as it wings buzzed in anticipation. The foals were switching between whimpering and screaming for help but it looked as if nopony heard them as the Changeling continued to advance uncontested. As the Changeling readied to pounce, a red flash lit up the alley. An angry red bolt slammed into the Changeling's head, obliterating it before shortly obliterating it's torso as the round traveled through it's head. Screams had accompanied the glorious display of violence as they watched the Changeling's head turn into a green sphere. One of the foals looked up in time to see a shadow jump across the gap between buildings. With the Changeling dead, it's gore splattered equally on the ground and the foals, the foals began to tighten their grip of each other. The one that had looked up dragged a tarp over them in the hope that it would hide them. Luckily, it would. Their savior jumped across another gap as she sprinted across the rooftops. Lucky for her, most were flat while those with an angle weren't relatively steep. She could see the smoke columns dotting the city scape, a solid indication of war. While she didn't know what the insectoids or horses were, she knew that the insectoids were bad news. Of course, she had also realized that the horses were xenos and for that fact she would stay away from them. Coming to a stop, she scanned the road that she stood over. Up the street, she could see metal flashing and could hear the clash of a melee. Kneeling, she brought her long-las up to her shoulder and sighted in on the struggle. As usual, the insectoids outnumbered the xenos. The xenos, though outnumbered, fought with a passion that would make most Commissars cry in joy... had they not been xenos. “Must be their home,” she whispered to herself as she sighted on one of the insectoids. Kilm, the sniper's name, let out her breath slowly as she tracked her target. When her lungs were empty and her body steady, she squeezed the trigger. With a report muffled by the suppressor, the rifle bucked into her shoulder as the round shot out. Even with the recoil, she kept the scope on target until said target turned the street around it into a gross representation of modern art. She had been pleased that even the less powerful long-las rounds could have this effect. It meant that she could save her precious hot shots for other engagements. Swiveling to another target, she noted that some of the fighters had paused in surprise to the sudden and brutal dispatch of the insectoid. This note was filed elsewhere as Kilm sent another round flying down range. Again, she watched as the round hit. To her dismay, it did not explode, though the hole the round made was quite impressive. With two shots fired, Kilm stood and began to sprint along the rooftops again. Two shots. That was the drilled maximum that a sniper could take before they should move to another firing position. For Kilm, this meant sprinting across the rooftops until she came onto another brawl. Sometimes, the xenos were armored and other times they looked to just be civilians fighting for their homes. As she ran though, she could tell that the fight was not one-sided as xeno corpses could be spotted on the streets below. “BURN! BURN IN THE EMPEROR'S NAME!” the cry soon dissolved into maniacal laughter as the large Guardsman, Hayt, swept his flamer side to side, engulfing the chittering insectoid horde in burning prometheum. He wore the same as Jvarn and Kilm: black boots, dark blue combat fatigues, a black flak vest, a black pauldron with Imperial Aquilla, and a white beret with their Regiment's pin. Hayt, though, also wore a pair of fire-retardant black gloves and a white rebreather that covered his lower face. On his back was the pack of liquid fuel that fed the fire-spitting weapon in his hands. He had woken up with one of insectoid equines sniffing the nozzle of his flamer. The pilot light igniting had charred the thing's carapace and startled it. The spear of flame that followed had roasted it inside it's own shell. The insectoid's friends had apparently been angered by that, which led to Hayt currently roasting the group of them in a wall of fire. Despite his laughter, Hayt was a sane man. Well, as sane as any pyromaniac could be. His love for fire was viewed with confusion when one learned that he had come from an ocean-world, small islands giving foundation to large vertical cities called hives. Then again, when one was being faced with a waved of Chaos cultists, or insectoid equines as the case may be, one didn't question it. Instead, they watch in satisfaction as he turns the approaching fiends into walking candles. Of course, as with all pyromaniacs, Hayt sometimes got carried away. “HEHEHE! BURN!” This instance being a great example. Hayt saw, to his dismay, one insectoid that was not caught by his delightful flames. It was running down the street, away from him. “NO! YOU MUST FEEL THE EMPEROR'S WRATH!” Hayt screamed as he charged through the still burning horde, long since dead, after the fleeing insectoid. He watched it round a corner and disappear. Letting off a bout of flame, laughter accompanying, Hayt continued to charge after the insectoid. Rounding a corner, he was met with a peculiar sight that was lost on the maniacal Guardsman. In front of him were three horses. Two wore golden armor and had horns sticking from their forehead while the third had dark purple armor. The purple armored horse also had leathery wings and a crossbow while the two golden armored horses' horns glowed, a shield in front of the trio. Hayt's eyes, though, never left the fleeing insectoid. He watched as it charged past the three horses-to their confusion-and go through the one way shield before entering a mass of insectoids that were hammering at the shield. The grin beneath Hayt's mask seemed to grow as he spotted the mass of insectoids that was much larger than the recently cooked horde he had first seen. “BE CLEANSED BY MY FLAME!” he screamed as he charged at the mass. His eagerness had caused him to depress the trigger earlier, the flame licking the purple armored horse. Luckily, the flame did little more than torch off a part of it's fur and darken it's hide. As soon as fire met carapace, Hayt began to laugh again as he swept his flamer side to side. The burning fuel ignited the insectoids and began to cook them within their own shells. As the entire front portion of their group was consumed in flames, a few turned and began to run, leaving the maniacal Guardsman and burning comrades. The trio of horses, the shields now dropped, simply looked on in a mixture of elation, confusion, and fear. Who knew when the crazy bipedal creature would turn that device on them? Hayt cared about none of this. The only thing he cared about was his crackling, yellow and orange offspring and boy... were they hungry. Author's Note I wrote this while listening to The Battle For Canterlot by ElectroKaplosion. Go ahead... click the link. You know you want to. By the way. Warhammer 40k is owned by Games Workshop while MLP:FiM is owned by Hasbro and yadda yadda yadda.
Unknown AlliesPrivate Windward had woken to a glorious day in the service of the Princesses. What had started out a nice day had been slightly marred when he was sent to quell a residential disturbance in the middle class section of the city that was Canterlot. When he had gotten there, it was as simple as tell them to “stop”. Why the pony who brought it to the attention of the Royal Guard didn't do that first, he'd never know. On the way back to the castle, however, he heard the shield dome that had covered the city shatter like so many panes of glass. The shards had luckily disappeared before they could cause damage but the green comets impacting the city did enough to make up for it. One of the comets had slammed into a wall of one of the houses, bringing the facade down on top of itself. Windward had already cleared the streets with a few shouts but he could still see the citizen looking out the windows. Surprisingly, from the debris, crawled a Changeling. It's carapace was covered in dirt but it otherwise appeared unharmed. The tapping of hooves against cobblestone caused Windward to turn to see another Changeling advancing to him. Their eyes, those deep blue fields, seemed to be looking at him with hostility. Thinking back to his training, he tried to bring up everything he could remember of his hoof-to-hoof exercises. That was when they attacked. At first it was green bolts, which Windward dodged with a twisting of his body and a flap of his wings. Then they came into hoof range and then began the real fight. The two Changelings laid into the Private, denting armor and bruising skin. The fight was far from one-sided as the Private dealt out damage to the Changelings. Granted, it was less so than the damage to him but it was still damage. He saw a Changeling's horn glow and twisted his body in time to dodge it as he engaged it's partner. When the second Changeling's horn glowed, Windward jumped away, watching the bolt slam into the ground. A green light gave Windward barely enough warning to duck away from a bolt by the first Changeling. The two Changelings stood next to each other as they glared the lone Guardspony. That was when it appeared. A bright red light smacked into the first Changeling, stunning the creature. Windward watched as he blinked once before three more red bolts smacked into it. The assaulted Changeling fell to the cobblestone street, it's green blood leaking into the cracks between the stones. Turning, Windward felt his eyes widen and jaw drop at what he saw. There, in the same debris that the first Changeling had crawled from, was a being unlike any the Private had seen. From what he could see, it had black plates over a blue hide with a strangely styled white mane. In it's... claws-the only word Windward knew to describe them-was a strange black box that shined dully in Her sun. Flashes, like a red strobe light in one of the undercity's clubs, blocked the creature from view. He watched as red bolts flew past him before he heard the 'clunk' of carapace against stone. That was a good twenty minutes ago. Now, fighting with everything he has, Windward couldn't help but feel a little outmatched by the bipedal creature. It had attached a blade to the end of the box, turning it into a makeshift spear before charging into the new swarm of Changelings, it's guttural and harsh words lost on Windward's ears. He had briefly watched as the blade went through a Changeling that was then tossed at another of the insect like ponies. Then, with a punch to the muzzle, Windward himself was sucked into the lopsided melee. He didn't know why he had followed the alien when it had charged the massive swarm. Every instinct had told him to run after all. However, the young Private just couldn't shake the feeling that the black and blue bipedal would lead them to victory against the Changelings. There was something about the way he fought that hinted to a deep knowledge of the way of battle. It almost appeared as if his race was born to wage war. A chilling thought to have but, given the current situation, it was a welcomed one. Hitting a Changeling with his forehoof, Windward watched it fall the street. Did he knock it out cold? He could hit again to make sure but that would be wrong wouldn't it? Surely excessive force wasn't required. The Princesses were bound to find a way to eject this menace from their city. His musings were interrupted by a loud smack followed by the cracking of what a lot like bones. In front of him was a Changeling head. Was being the operative word as it had been replaced by a green-splattered blue leg, blood, and what only resembled a head. Following the leg, Windward was met with the biped's stern face. It's sunken eyes glared at the Private and he got the sudden notion that if the Changelings weren't there, his head would've been underneath that hoof. The creature's mouth moved, eliciting grunts that appeared to be it's language. While Windward didn't understand the words, he could guess what it said by it's tone and the current situation. “No mercy” and “Don't hesitate” made it high up the list of possible phrases. With it's message spoken, Windward watched as it turned at the significantly thinned horde. Looking at the horde as well, the Private could see fear on their faces. The emotion was not directed at him but at the bipedal creature next to him. Looking again at the creature, Windward watched as a smaller box dropped away from the bigger box in it's claws. With the smaller box clattering to the ground, the being pulled another from pockets that hung over it's armor and slid it into the bigger box. A short whine sounded. CRA-CRA-CRA-CRA-CRA-CRA-CRA-CRACK!-hiss Windward's ears flattened against his head as the box flashed and spat red bolts at the horde. Changelings dropped from the barrage of light, their blood seeping across the stones and splattering their comrades. The Guardspony saw a few of the Changelings turn tail and run, either on hoof or by air. The rest, however, charged their own attack and fired green bolts back at Windward and the bipedal. “By the Sisters!” Windward cried as he fell to his stomach in an effort to avoid the bolts. Looking over, he saw that the bipedal had also gotten flat against the road, though with a scorch mark over the strange double headed eagle on it's left arm plate. When the barrage had passed overhead, Windward saw the bipedal look at the eagle. An indescribable anger overtook it's strange features as it muttered in it's brutish language. With a roar that could have disguised a few of it's words, the creature stood and charged at the Changelings. Windward watched as it speared one before letting go of the box, picking up a Changeling and using it's horn to spear another. It then yanked out it's box and slashed at the insect ponies. All the while, it was shouting something in it's harsh language. Windward could only guess at what it was saying. “-DARE SCORCH THE HOLY AQUILLA? I WILL SEND YOU BACK TO THE WARP IN A THOUSAND PIECES YOU FO-” At any rate, Windward was glad that it's anger was focused on the Changelings and not on him. Thankful for the brief respite, Windward looked into the sky to see his pegasi brethren of the Royal Guard dueling with airborne Changelings. He briefly thought of taking off to join them. That thought was squashed when he remembered the bipedal being. As scary as it was, he had to help it. So, with a sigh, the Private charged into the fray, hoof slamming into a Changeling's face sending a bolt flying into the road next to the bipedal. Corporal Gravitational Lift twisted the hilt of his sword to release suction before pulling it from the dead Changeling. Unlike the Private far below him, he had no qualms with killing these creatures. They had invaded their capital, had threatened innocent ponies, and, lastly, it was his duty to protect Equestria from things like these Changelings by any means necessary. If that meant sending a few to Tartarus by his hoof, than so be it. The Sisters would undoubtedly forgive him. Following the corpse as it dropped, his eyes settled on something moving swiftly across the rooftops. He saw black but it didn't look like a Changeling, especially with the white on it's head. He thought he could catch a glimpse of a dark blue beneath the black and it appeared to be running on two legs. While this was strange, his attention quickly shifted to the Changeling that appeared to be trying to sneak up on the unknown creature. “Not on my watch,” Lift murmured as he dove down at the Changeling, sword first. While he didn't know what the two-legged creature was, the attacking Changeling indicated it as an enemy of the hive. To the pegasus, that was enough for him to consider it a friend that was worth defending. He felt the wind buffet him as he dived. He caught a glimpse of another fight as a Changeling, followed closely by a pegasus Guard, flew in front of him. He used his wings as ailerons and his trail as a rudder to guide him on target. This was his duty, nothing else mattered. His sword hit first, impaling the flying Changeling but doing little to slow Lift's momentum. Flaring his wings, Lift swung his rear hooves underneath him as he flapped with all his might to slow himself down. He slowed himself enough where he wouldn't break anything but when he landed, he still felt a sharp jolt of pain run up his hind legs, up his spine, and be registered in his brain. A loud clank had also sounded when his sword hit and buried itself about a inch into the tiling of the roof. Between the hoof guard and the roof was the dead Changeling, blood leaking past the metal of the sword. Hearing hooves on tile, he turned to see the bipedal aiming the end of a strange box at him. He saw it's eyes, which looked to be too small, dart between him and the Changeling impaled on his sword. It then opened it's mouth and... spoke. At least, Lift assumed it did. The words sounded harsh but the voice sounded soft. The contradiction left Lift slightly confused. Though, while he couldn't understand what it said, he could take a guess. “You're welcome,” he said, yanking his sword free of both roof and flesh. Now it was the alien's turn to look confused as it tilted it's head at Lift. He noticed then that the white was not it's mane but was actually some sort of headwear. It's mane, a brown in color, was instead pulled back into a tight ponytail. The confusion left the bipedal, however, as the sound of combat rang from the street below. Lift watched it give him a cautious glance before it moved to the edge of the roof. The pegasus followed it, both interested about it and eager to leap back into battle. Looking down, he could see a mixture of civilian and Guardsponies fighting a group of Changelings. For once, it appeared as if the numbers were equal on both sides. The lack of training in the civilians, though, tipped it to the Changelings. As Lift readied to jump into the fight, a bright red flash made him falter. He watched in shock as a Changeling blew apart, spraying it's sickly colored blood over everything that was nearby. Turning, he saw the bipedal shift a bit in it's crouch, the box against it's shoulder. A metal rod that he hadn't seen before stuck from the front of the box with a large cylinder at the end. Without warning, the end of the cylinder flashed red, temporarily blinding Lift. Turning to look at the fight, he blinked away the spots in time to see a Changeling fall to the street, a large hole in it's side. Eyes blinking in shock, he looked to at the bipedal... to see that it was gone. Spinning around, he saw it darting across the rooftops again. He wondered why it left, the fight in the street was far from over. However, a quick glance did confirm that it turned the tides enough to give the ponies a chance. Maybe that was all it was doing, turning the tides. With no specific orders and the wanting to keep this unknown ally alive, Lift took off after it. He may not know what it was, or be able to understand it, but he'd be damned if a being with such a powerful weapon would be left to die. As he flew alongside it, he saw it glance at him with unsureness and suspicion. That was fine by him, so long as it continued to attack the Changelings. “Should we, uh- should we help it?” asked Crescent Shot, rubbing a hoof unconsciously against his burnt patch of skin. “No. No, I-I think we just let it be,” answered Crimson Shield, shaking her head slowly, her eyes never leaving the sigh in front of her. In front of them was a large bipedal being of unknown origin with a... something on it's back that fed a... other something in it's claws that seemed to spit fire at the Changeling mass that had been recently attacking the trio of Guards. “Do either of you know what it is?” asked the third of their group, Barricade. “It's an unknown being with a weapon that spits fire,” replied Crescent. A series of harsh sounds met their ears as the being swept it's weapon side to side, “and appears to be laughing.” “So... dangerous?” Barricade finished. “Highly,” Crimson stated. “We gonna stop it?” Barricade asked. “Doubt it,” Crescent answered as he sat on his haunches. “What are you doing? Crimson asked, looking at Crescent in confusion. “Enjoying the show.” “Good idea,” Barricade said as he also sat down. “You two are unbelievable,” Crimson sighed as she too sat down, looking at the brutish bipedal. She watched as it smacked aside a Changeling with it's weapon before dousing it in a spear of flame. “Sooo, anypony bring popcorn?” Crescent asked. “HEHE! BURN! HEHE!” Author's Note No specific song for this one. Just lots and lots of ponystep. I am honestly SHOCKED by how fast this took off. By the Sisters/Emperor, it had even gotten into the 'Popular Stories' listing. Thank you all for the support and I hope you keep on reading.
HeresyBreathing heavily, Jvarn looked around at the carnage that he had caused. The xeno had attempted to help but it had always hesitated at the killing blow, leaving Jvarn to finish it off. The corpses of the black insectoids littered the street. Their vile green ichor, the connection to the color of Chaos and it's irony not lost on the trooper, leaked onto the street. Yanking his blade from one such corpse, Jvarn walked over to his discarded charge pack. Picking it up, he put it in the empty pouch on his harness. He was sure that he could find a way to charge the things on this xeno world. Even if he couldn't, the metal would make a great bludgeoning tool to bring His will upon the unworthy. Looking at the winged-horse, he could see it looking around, it's over expressive face displaying awe and fear. When Jvarn's boot had crushed in the head of the insectoid the xeno had failed to kill, the trooper had though of killing the equine. Yet, something had stayed his hand, instead resorting to try to insult the xeno. Whether it understood the insult, Jvarn wasn't able to tell. The wanting to do penitence for his hesitation to dispose of the xeno crossed the troopers mind. The noise around him shuffled away that wanting. The city still gave the roar of war and Jvarn would be damned if he did not answer it's call. A sudden movement from the xeno had Jvarn aiming his lasgun at it's head. His finger had the trigger halfway depressed when it saw it indicating a direction with it's hoof. A twitch. That's all it would take to end the xeno's life. The xeno apparently realized this as it's expression turned to one of fear, it's eyes locked on the end of the barrel. The silence between the two was so great that they could hear the drop of green blood that fell from the blade as it hit the ground. At least, they would have been able to. The roar of war was quite loud. Biting back a curse, Jvarn removed his finger from the trigger and moved his rifle away from the xeno. It continued to stare at his rifle for a couple seconds before it shook it's head. The trooper watched as it motioned again with it's hoof before taking off at a gallop down the street. “Emperor forgive me for my sins,” Jvarn muttered before taking off after the xeno. He followed it down the road, scanning for any more insectoids. Suddenly, the xeno flared it's wings and darted down a side street. Reaching the street himself, Jvarn turned to see more of the insectoids. This time, however, there were a couple of the xenos engaging the carapaced attackers. Some wore armor like the winged-horse he had followed while others wore nothing at all. “Vile creatures,” Jvarn muttered again as he raised his rifle and let off a trio of shots at the insectoid group. The new xeno group looked at him in surprise but a few melodic words from the winged-horse he had followed sent their attention back to the insectoids. The Venite paid little attention to the horses as he fired at the insectoids, calmly walking towards the melee as he did. One of the black creatures fell with a hole in it's carapace, the wound smoking. That was not my round, came Jvarn's thought as he stopped shooting to look around for the shooter. Another insectoid was felled. Looking up, Jvarn spotted the shooter and smiled as he saw the white beret and blue uniform of the Six's Sixth. The shooter locked eyes with Jvarn and the male trooper immediately recognized Kilm's trademark smirk as she waved at him. Her waving hand then pointed to the battle. Taking the message, Jvarn turned back to the fight. Throwing himself into the melee, he slashed, shot, and kicked any insectoid that came near him. He was vaguely aware of the wounds he was collecting from these fights and of the insectoids falling from Kilm's long-las. Now he only had to find Hayt. Jvarn knew that all he had to do was find the biggest fire. “I hate you guys!” Crescent shouted as he flapped his leathery wings hard, trying to stay far in front of the large bipedal pursuing him. They had winded through the streets like this, bipedal chasing Crescent. “Hey, at least he stopped with the fire right?” Crimson asked as she galloped over the rooftops, slightly behind Crescent and to his right. “Yeah! Cheer up Crescent!” Barricade shouted as he galloped over the rooftops to Crescent's left. “Buck you!” he cried as he turned left onto a new road. A flash of light and Crimson was suddenly on the rooftops to his right again. Crescent smirked though as he saw the Changelings at the end of this street. They had been moving in a patrol formation. Crescent expected they were looking for ponies to drain. Too bad for them, the bipedal trailing Crescent had a particular hatred of the insect ponies. Of course, this fact couple with it's confusion of Crescent being a Changeling had gotten the bat pony into this mess. “Let 'em have it big guy!” shouted the Night Guard as he banked up and into the sky. Stopping a little above roof height, the bat pony looked down and smiled. Below him, the bipedal was sweeping the flames back and forth over the Changeling patrol. Their death cries filled the air as their soft innards were cooked by the searing flames. “Yeah!” Crescent cried as he gave a hoof pump. He watched as the last of the patrol dropped dead. “Onto the next one!” Barricade shouted. “Right!” Crescent shouted back before flying into the bipedal's line of sight. The stallion was a bit surprised when a spear of flame didn't reach out towards him. It looked at him with an almost expectant attitude. The Night Guard wondered if it knew that he would lead it to more Changelings. “This way!” shouted the bat pony before taking off down the road, glancing back to see the bipedal following. Hayt was no fool. After he realized that the leather winged xeno was able to stay out of his flamer's reach, he had opted to conserve fuel or else lose his precious baby. After the fire high, as he called it, died down, he was able to spot the two horned xenos galloping on the rooftops on either side of him. The three aliens spoke to each other with melodic voices as they ran. When the xeno drew his attention before taking off after the first group of insectoids, he realized their plan. They were leading him through the city to where they thought the insectoids were. He found himself briefly insulted by the idea of being used by the xenos. The will to burn overrode that feeling, however, and drove him to follow the xenos. After decimating three more groups of the insectoids, Hayt wondered where the xenos were dragging him. Did they even know? Were they just taking random courses and hoping to run into the patrols? Would they turn on him? By now, he had also realized that the two horned xenos were psykers, though they possessed the strange ability to teleport themselves from rooftop to rooftop. At first, he had been alarmed. They were xeno psykers! They had to be purged! Then, another fire high drowned out that feeling and replaced it with another: as long as they continued to fuel his desire to burn, he would not try to burn them. Rounding a corner, he almost ran into the back of the leathery winged xeno. The heat from his flamer's pilot light startled the xeno and sent it spiraling into the air, revealing the scene on the street. Colorful xenos fought the black insectoids, corpses of each littering the street. That's not what drew his attention, however. It was the Guardsman in the middle of the melee, slashing and stabbing at the insectoids. With a renewed sense of purpose, Hayt charged into the fray, his flamer discharging righteous fire into the thickest of insectoid groups. Sometimes his flames licked the hides of the colorful xenos but he didn't care about their well-being. Reaching his squad mate, Hayt roasted an insectoid that was behind him before stepping up with his back to Jvarn's. “Hayt! How nice of you to show up!” Jvarn greeted, a sarcastic tone in his voice as he bayoneted an insectoid. “Yeah! My alarm went off late!” Hayt replied as he kicked an insectoid to the street before crushing in it's skull, being mindful of it's spiked horn. With his boot still in the green goop, he swept his flamer over a trio of the insectoids, smiling in glee as they screamed in agony. “Is Kilm here?” “Overwatch,” was Jvarn's simple reply. As if on cue, the head of an insectoid in front of Hayt exploded in a brilliant display of gore. “So I see,” Hayt replied with a chuckle. “What do you think of the xenos?” Jvarn asked with barely disguised disgust, clubbing an insectoid with the butt of his rifle as he did. “Friendly-” “Heresy.” “-for xenos.” “They have psykers amongst them,” Jvarn stated as a pink bolt flew close to the duo before slamming into an insectoid. “So I've seen.” “They deserve to be purged in the name of the God-Emperor.” “Indeed. In His name.” “You disagree?” “We are highly outnumbered.” “They are a primitive race.” “We only have so many rounds. Then it comes to blades and they have much more than we do,” Hayt explained as he turned and roasted an insectoid that Jvarn had bayoneted. Feeling a presence to his other side, Hayt turned to see Kilm standing with her back to the two. Her long-las was slung across her back and she now held a laspistol in her hands. “Weren't you on the rooftops?” Jvarn asked, noticing her presence as well. The two men reconfigured their stances to create a triangular effect with the woman. The fighting continued as the insectoids had been reinforced during the Guardsmen's debate. “I was. The winged xeno with me was kind enough to deliver me to the street,” she explained, firing a pair of las-rounds into an insectoid. “You let one touch you?” Jvarn asked in disgust. “It was that or jump down and I like having my bones unbroken, thank you,” she retorted, “Besides, it did save my life.” “There's three of them now?” Crescent asked as he was joined by Crimson and Barricade in the melee that was occurring in the street. “They look to be friends,” Barricade stated as he bucked a Changeling away from the trio. Crimson looked at the bipedals and took note of their uniforms. She then rolled her eyes. “What gave it away?” she asked sarcastically as she used a magical shield to push a Changeling into a wall with enough force to kill it. “The talking.” With confusion, Crimson looked back at the bipedals to see that they did seem to be talking amongst themselves. She wondered why they would be talking during a battle. Realizing that was doing just that, Crimson felt the urge to facehoof. “Any of you two wondering what the Sisters are doing right are?” Crescent asked as he shot a crossbow bolt into a Changeling before hitting another with his free forehoof. A bright pink flash made the three Guardsponies look in the direction of the castle. “What the hay?” Crescent asked. A pink wall suddenly passed through them, the magical discharge causing their bodies to tingle. Looking around, they were met with a street devoid of the black demons. “Weren't there Changelings here a second ago?” Barricade questioned. “Weren't the bipedals on their hooves as well?” Crescent added before taking off to the three prone, still figures in the street. They appeared to have just passed out. Crescent assumed that the pink whatever it was may have reacted negatively with them. To be sure, the Night Guard gently shook the flame wielding bipedal. “Hey big guy, you there?” he asked, readying himself to fly away should it awake and wish to burn him. When he got no response, he looked at the other two to see Guardsponies trying to shake them awake as well. Neither got a response. Crescent could see that they were breathing though. That was good right? “So,” Crescent looked up at the sword wielding pegasus Day Guard that hovered next to the smaller of the three, “anypony know what these things are?” He was met with numerous shaking heads. He gave a sigh as he looked down at the smaller bipedal, “Didn't think so.” Author's Note Thanks for the support and criticism. Hopefully I answered a few questions that y'all had. If I didn't (or if new ones formed) don't be afraid to leave a comment.
Lost in Translation“Ugh,” Jvarn groaned as he opened his eyes to a dull, flickering light. Shaking his head, he realized that he was laying on a bed of hay. Jumping to his feet, Jvarn examined his surroundings. He was in a small room with three walls made of stone and the fourth of iron bars. A cell; he was in a cell. Letting out a growl, Jvarn continued to examine the cell. On two other beds of hay, he saw Kilm and Hayt. Both were still unconscious and still wore their uniforms and flask-vest. To that point, so was he. It looked that the only thing missing were their weapons. “Kilm? Hayt?” Jvarn asked, cautiously moving to the other two Guardsmen. He kept an eye planted on the open side of the cell, waiting for when their captors came to see if they were awake or not. Kilm's eyes fluttered open as a hand went to her head. “Wha-? Jvarn? Where are we?” she asked as she got up to a sitting position and groggily looked around at their cell. “In a cell. Those xenos must have captured us after we passed out.” “What was that light anyways?” Kilm asked as she got to her feet and approached the bars. “No idea,” Jvarn replied as he moved to Hayt and shook the man's shoulder, “Hayt.” A hand struck out and grabbed Jvarn's forearm in a vice grip. A second later, Hayt's eye opened to see Jvarn over him instead of whatever evil his mind had imagined. The grip on Jvarn's arm lessened until the hand fell away. “Apologies,” Hayt muttered as he yawned and rubbed at his eyes, removing his rebreather as he lowered his hands. “Get up. We've been captured,” Jvarn stated as he got back to his feet and moved to where Kilm stood by the iron bars. “They took our weapons,” Hayt observed as he got to a sitting position with his elbows on his knees. “Glad to see your not on one of your 'fire-highs' Hayt,” Jvarn replied with sarcasm as he looked down the row of cells across from theirs. None of the other cells were occupied. “Seems strange, doesn't it?” Kilm asked as she motioned to the empty cell across from theirs. “Indeed, it's almost as if we are the only ones locked up.” “What I meant,” Hayt interjected as he got to his feet, “is that they only took our weapons. We still have everything else. Entrenching tool, rebreathers, rations, lamp packs, you name it.” “Apparently they've never seen what an Entrenching tool can do against flesh,” Jvarn stated with a smile as he felt the familiar weight against his right thigh. However, he couldn't shake Hayt's point. Surely they would've stripped them of more than just weapons. Wouldn't they? Kilm stepped away from the bars and walked back to her straw bed against the far wall. Sitting down with her back against the wall, she opened a pouch on her armor and pulled out the two pieces of the familiar instrument. “Since we're gonna be here awhile,” she muttered. Putting the pieces together, she placed the mouthpiece against her lower lip. Adjusting her sitting position and grip, she began to blow into the instrument, a tune familiar to the two other Guardsman filling the cell. “In the darkest hour of night, they pack their bags,” began Hayt, hesitantly joined by Jvarn. Their voices were off-key with the flute but neither paid it heed. This was their song; the song that had played when they had left their homeworld, “They march to fight, under the golden flags. Born to sail, heading to fight in the black seas. Never fail, they will be as brave as any Astartes.” The flute seemed to wail as it went into a solo of fast flying notes. When the solo ended, the two troopers continued singing, “Regiments of Veno Six, heading off with nothing but picts. In the service of the Emperor, you will make our existence happier. When you are called to die, remember your cry. Puskai Veno. Puskai Imperiar.” The cell delved into silence before Kilm began a new tune on her flute. It was just a simple tune, no signing involved. This left the two other troopers to close their eyes, sway to the music, and think of their oceanic home. “Sister, we think it unwise to try to converse with those... brutes. According to the Guard they were able to dispatch the Changelings with ruthlessness unheard of since...” “The Nightmare Uprising?” offered Celestia as she watched her sister's head lower in shame. Gently putting a hoof under Luna's chin, she raised her sister's head so that the Night Princess was looking at her, “I have already forgiven you for that. There is no need to still feel shame over the past.” “Of course Tia. I just wish it didn't come to that in the first place,” Luna explained as she looked at her sister with a thousand year sorrow. “Me too,” Celestia agreed with a sigh. She then looked at the two Guardspony standing in front of a plain wooden door. An iron latch held it securely shut, “However, we have bigger things to attend to right now.” Luna nodded as the two approached the wooden door. That Guardsponies came to attention and while one saluted, the other undid the latch and opened the door. All present were startled when the sad cry of a flute echoed from the dungeon halls. “Who gave them an instrument?” Celestia asked of the saluting guard. His shock had caused him to falter in his salute, but he quickly became as stiff as a statue once more. “Nopony did, Your Highness. Nopony's been in there since their incarceration,” he reported, his hoof firmly against his brow. Celestia nodded as the sad cry of the flute continued to echo forth. “Such a sad sounding tune for beings of such ferocity, eh Luna?” Celestia asked, looking back at her sister to see a look of curiosity on her face. “Indeed sister. Shall we?” she asked while motioning to the dungeon halls with her hoof. Nodding, the solar princess entered the dank halls, her sister following behind her. From the shadows came a Guardspony in plain, gray iron armor, a sword sheathed across their back. This new arrival silently trailed the two Princesses, knowing both that he was unneeded and yet sworn to die before he stepped away from his rulers. The two sisters walked towards the growing sound of the flute, their curiosity growing with each passing second. When they got to the cell, they were standing side by side in front of the iron bars, taking in the sight before them. The aliens, as they weren't natural to Equus, sat on their straw beds, backs to the wall. Like the reports stated, they appeared to be bipedal in nature with claws on their other appendages. All of them had their eyes closed as the smaller of the three played away on it's flute. They wore what appeared to be clothes over their hides with armor over that. The dark blue and black coloring made one of Luna's brows go up in confusion. Celestia also looked on in confusion but more for the eagle painted on their shoulder pads. She thought that it'd be safe to assume that this was the emblem of their country. Of course, she began to think of why it had two heads to it. Maybe they were ruled by two leaders like Equestria was? It was at this time that the solar monarch realized that the flute playing alien was looking up at her and her sister. It did not stop it's playing, however. Celestia watched as it scanned the two mares with what she assumed to be an inquisitive, if not cautious, eye. The guttural speech that came next caused the two Princesses to jump in surprise. “There's a xeno standing outside the bars, isn't there?” Jvarn asked as he kept his eyes closed. He was still reminiscing of his youth aboard a HabShip and he did not feel like coming back to the real world. While the HabShips were cramped and the waves of the ocean meant you were always fighting for balance, it was still better than knowing you were a captive of a new xenos race. Especially when it consisted of colorful, talking horses. “Two, actually,” Hayt replied. Unlike Jvarn, he opened his eyes and peered at the two horses. He was shocked at their height, easily head and shoulder taller than the others he had seen. Where others had just a horn or wings, these had both horn and wings. Around their necks were decorative necklaces and crowns sat upon their heads. Though, what drew most of his attention was their manes. They seemed to move of their own power, waving in a breeze not present. The white coated one had a multi-hued mane of bright colors while the indigo horse had a mane like that of the night sky. “Detail?” Jvarn asked. Hayt looked over at him. The man still had his eyes closed and his arms crossed. “Leadership by their regalia. More of a horse stature with self-flowing manes.” “Self-flowing?” “Blowing in a breeze that isn't felt by others.” At this, Jvarn cracked his eyes open and took a glance at their captors. Sure enough, their manes were still flowing of their own accord. Giving a low growl, Jvarn closed his eyes to resume his previous pose. “Thoughts?” he asked. While this was happening, Kilm didn't stop playing, though her tune took on a more happier note. She also didn't stop watching the two horses standing outside their cell. “Currently held captive by obviously warp-touched beings of another species. No dedicated weapons at hand. Obvious language barrier,” at this, Hayt looked at their confused faces and chuckled, “We're still alive and not tortured as well. I say that we wait it out and see if we can't escape later.” “Agreed,” Jvarn stated from his spot against the wall. “It appears they are studying us, sister,” Luna stated as she leaned closer to her fellow alicorn. “It does feel that way,” Celestia agreed as she watched the bigger of the three look over the two alicorns. Then, with the sluggishness that would come from it's size, the big alien got to it's two hooves and marched to the bars. The two Princesses found it off-putting that the smaller of the three continued playing it's flute. As if being in the presence of the two alicorns meant nothing to it. When it got close, Celestia could make out the eagle and parchment on the front of it's beret. How she wished she could read what was inscribed on the parchment. It may have given them insight on where these beings came from. The large being stood quietly, just watching them as the two alicorns did the same. The third being, it's eyes still closed, spoke briefly. The two watched as the bigger one said something back, causing grunts of what they assumed to be laughter from the other. The big alien then brought up it's claws. It held one flat while using the appendage on one to move over the other. It appeared erratic but, after a few times, a light clicked in Luna's head. “I think it wants to draw us something,” she suggested, while floating out a piece of paper, quill, and inkwell from her bag. The being hesitated for a second before plucking the items from Luna's magical grasp. It then went back to it's bed and sat in such a way that the paper was blocked from view. The two bigger aliens conversed while the biggest drew. It wasn't long before it got back to it's feet and approached the two Princesses, equipment in it's grasp. It first offered the quill and inkwell, which Luna took. She noted the flinch and clenching of muscles when she levitated the items. Could this being not be used to magic? Was it abused by magic? Her thought was cut off as it offered the paper, held in a way that they couldn't immediately see what was on it. Celestia took it in her grasp and brought it up in front of the pair. Flipping it over, their mouth came open in confusion. There, on the paper was a crude drawing of what they assumed to be a group of Changelings. They appeared to have been swallowed by flames. Following the flame, they saw the creature itself with it's strange weapon in it's claws. The weapon was the origin of the flames. Behind the being, however, were what appeared to be ponies. They were cowering and looking in the direction of the being with fear. While the two alicorns couldn't be sure if the fear was directed at the being or the Changelings, they knew what the picture was trying to portray. They both looked up at the being to see that it had already gone back to it's bed and sat down with it's back against the wall. It had it's eyes closed and it's body moving to the tune of the flute. Even the smaller being, who had watched the two the entire time, had it's eyes closed once more. “Come sister. I think that is all we will get today,” Celestia stated. She got only a nod from Luna as the ponies beat a retreat from the dungeon halls. ...The shrill cry of the flute followed them until the wooden door swung closed.
War In The Streets“Ugh.” A pile of debris shifted before a hand shot from it, scraped, bloody, and dirty. With a grunt of effort, the hand shoved off enough debris for a second hand to join the first. With two hands, the being continued to push off debris, it clattering to the cobblestone street. Finally, enough debris had been removed to allow the being to sit up. Eyelids fluttered to get rid of the dirt before brown eyes scanned the street. Now free from the debris, the being's hands fixed the once pure white beret that sat atop it's head. A pin decorated the front of the beret, depicting an eagle with wings swept back. In the eagle's talons was a standard issue las-rifle, a parchment tied to the barrel flowing underneath the eagle. Carved onto the parchment were the words; “Six's Fighting Sixth”. “Where the fok am I?” he asked, adjusting the black flack vest that rested over his dark blue uniform. A black pauldron rested over his left shoulder, depicting-in stark white-the Holy Aquilla of the Imperium of Man; a double headed eagle with wings outstretched. A green splash of energy swept up from the debris next to the Guardsman. Looking, he was met with a very interesting sight. Down the street were three equine creatures. Two were more insect like as the Guardsman could see their nearly transparent wings. The third was more of a normal horse besides the fact that it was wearing bright gold armor and had what looked to be wings poking from it. The Guardsman, Jvarn was his name, watched as the three fought. The two black, insectoids ganging against the winged-horse. Then, his jaw clenched as he watched a green bolt fly from one of the insectoids and nearly impact the winged-horse. “Witches,” Jvarn growled as he watched the other insectoid also fire off a green bolt of energy. Grabbing his las-rifle, which sat next to him in the debris, he brought the metal stock to his shoulder. Shifting himself into a crouch, Jvarn looked down his iron sights at the brawl. He didn't know what the winged-horse was or why it wore armor but he knew he had seen the insectoids use some sort of psychic power. If they were tainted by the warp, he would happily send them back to their dark gods. His finger tightened slowly around the trigger before the rifle gave a soft lurch. The softness of the recoil was compensated for by the harsh CRACK!-hiss of the rifle's report. The blood-red beam shot forth before striking one of the insectoid equines. It stumbled, blinking in surprise before three more las-rounds slammed it to the street. With it's carapace cracked, sickly green ichor leaked onto the road. The two other beings had frozen when the first round struck and looked directly at Jvarn after the insectoid fell against the street. He noted that their eyes were unusually large and he doubted it was completely due to surprise. Where the winged-horse's eyes looked much like his, the insectoid had blue eyes with a white, beady pupil. While the winged-horse looked on, slack-jawed, the insectoid hissed at Jvarn as it's horn began to glow the same sickly green as the first one's blood. Whatever it had planned to do, the three las-rounds that slammed into it interrupted it permanently. As it joined it's comrade on the street in eternal slumber, the winged-horse's surprised face turned to one of fear as Jvarn stepped from the debris pile and began to walk calmly towards it. He looked at the habs that he walked by, noticing that some looked to be stores. He also noticed that the doors and windows looked... smaller. It looked like they were built for the inhabitants of a low-gravity world and yet, he could feel that the gravity on this world was similar to his homeworld of Veno Six. Reaching the corpses, the winged-horse having stepped back from them, Jvarn prodded one with his boot. He could feel the carapace through his boot and raised an eyebrow from it. They were indeed insectoid equines. He had never heard of such a thing before and yet he couldn't say he was truly surprised. The Warp, the twisted home to Chaos, could produce any number of sensible or non-sensible beings to fight the Imperium. He couldn't help but feel, however, that this was not a product of the warp. It wasn't... twisted enough. A series of soft, melodic notes had Jvarn's rifle back to his shoulder and scanning for a threat. It had sounded like an Eldar and yet not like one. With confusion mounting, Jvarn lowered his rifle slightly when he didn't spot anything. Looking at the winged-horse, he could see the fear and confusion in it's expressive eyes. The coat of the creature was white, much like his beret had been, but the mane and tail were a vibrant blue. “You are a stange little creature,” he commented off-handedly. He watched it recoil in shock and couldn't help but think it to be an oddly human reaction for a beast of burden. Then it opened it's mouth and he knew that it could be no simple beast of burden. Soft, melodic notes seemingly swam from it's open mouth. “By the God-Empe-” A green bolt interrupted Jvarn as it flew in front of his face to impact a hab's wall. Looking at where it had come from, he could see more of the insectoid equines moving and... flying down the street to Jvarn and the, now revealed, xeno. The Guardsman looked at the armored xeno to see it glaring at the insectoids and preparing itself for a fight, it's wings spread in a predatory manner. After a brief argument in his mind, Jvarn removed his blade and affixed it to the bayonet lug on his rifle. Raising it up, he aimed at the insectoids. “Puskai Veno! Puksai Imperiar!” he yelled as he charged at the insectoids, his rifle cracking rapidly as it fired on full-auto. He could see the xeno charging along beside him. He knew he may regret not using it's brain matter to decorate his blade but the insectoids were the bigger problem now. With that thought in mind, he plunged his bayonet into an insectoid and flung it into one of it's brethren. With the green blood arcing through the sky, he felt himself smiling. Even if he was sided with a xeno, temporarily of course, he was still doing the Imperium a service by killing these warp tainted creatures. Elsewhere in the city, a trio of foals were backed into a corner by a lone Changeling. It bared it's fangs menacingly as it wings buzzed in anticipation. The foals were switching between whimpering and screaming for help but it looked as if nopony heard them as the Changeling continued to advance uncontested. As the Changeling readied to pounce, a red flash lit up the alley. An angry red bolt slammed into the Changeling's head, obliterating it before shortly obliterating it's torso as the round traveled through it's head. Screams had accompanied the glorious display of violence as they watched the Changeling's head turn into a green sphere. One of the foals looked up in time to see a shadow jump across the gap between buildings. With the Changeling dead, it's gore splattered equally on the ground and the foals, the foals began to tighten their grip of each other. The one that had looked up dragged a tarp over them in the hope that it would hide them. Luckily, it would. Their savior jumped across another gap as she sprinted across the rooftops. Lucky for her, most were flat while those with an angle weren't relatively steep. She could see the smoke columns dotting the city scape, a solid indication of war. While she didn't know what the insectoids or horses were, she knew that the insectoids were bad news. Of course, she had also realized that the horses were xenos and for that fact she would stay away from them. Coming to a stop, she scanned the road that she stood over. Up the street, she could see metal flashing and could hear the clash of a melee. Kneeling, she brought her long-las up to her shoulder and sighted in on the struggle. As usual, the insectoids outnumbered the xenos. The xenos, though outnumbered, fought with a passion that would make most Commissars cry in joy... had they not been xenos. “Must be their home,” she whispered to herself as she sighted on one of the insectoids. Kilm, the sniper's name, let out her breath slowly as she tracked her target. When her lungs were empty and her body steady, she squeezed the trigger. With a report muffled by the suppressor, the rifle bucked into her shoulder as the round shot out. Even with the recoil, she kept the scope on target until said target turned the street around it into a gross representation of modern art. She had been pleased that even the less powerful long-las rounds could have this effect. It meant that she could save her precious hot shots for other engagements. Swiveling to another target, she noted that some of the fighters had paused in surprise to the sudden and brutal dispatch of the insectoid. This note was filed elsewhere as Kilm sent another round flying down range. Again, she watched as the round hit. To her dismay, it did not explode, though the hole the round made was quite impressive. With two shots fired, Kilm stood and began to sprint along the rooftops again. Two shots. That was the drilled maximum that a sniper could take before they should move to another firing position. For Kilm, this meant sprinting across the rooftops until she came onto another brawl. Sometimes, the xenos were armored and other times they looked to just be civilians fighting for their homes. As she ran though, she could tell that the fight was not one-sided as xeno corpses could be spotted on the streets below. “BURN! BURN IN THE EMPEROR'S NAME!” the cry soon dissolved into maniacal laughter as the large Guardsman, Hayt, swept his flamer side to side, engulfing the chittering insectoid horde in burning prometheum. He wore the same as Jvarn and Kilm: black boots, dark blue combat fatigues, a black flak vest, a black pauldron with Imperial Aquilla, and a white beret with their Regiment's pin. Hayt, though, also wore a pair of fire-retardant black gloves and a white rebreather that covered his lower face. On his back was the pack of liquid fuel that fed the fire-spitting weapon in his hands. He had woken up with one of insectoid equines sniffing the nozzle of his flamer. The pilot light igniting had charred the thing's carapace and startled it. The spear of flame that followed had roasted it inside it's own shell. The insectoid's friends had apparently been angered by that, which led to Hayt currently roasting the group of them in a wall of fire. Despite his laughter, Hayt was a sane man. Well, as sane as any pyromaniac could be. His love for fire was viewed with confusion when one learned that he had come from an ocean-world, small islands giving foundation to large vertical cities called hives. Then again, when one was being faced with a waved of Chaos cultists, or insectoid equines as the case may be, one didn't question it. Instead, they watch in satisfaction as he turns the approaching fiends into walking candles. Of course, as with all pyromaniacs, Hayt sometimes got carried away. “HEHEHE! BURN!” This instance being a great example. Hayt saw, to his dismay, one insectoid that was not caught by his delightful flames. It was running down the street, away from him. “NO! YOU MUST FEEL THE EMPEROR'S WRATH!” Hayt screamed as he charged through the still burning horde, long since dead, after the fleeing insectoid. He watched it round a corner and disappear. Letting off a bout of flame, laughter accompanying, Hayt continued to charge after the insectoid. Rounding a corner, he was met with a peculiar sight that was lost on the maniacal Guardsman. In front of him were three horses. Two wore golden armor and had horns sticking from their forehead while the third had dark purple armor. The purple armored horse also had leathery wings and a crossbow while the two golden armored horses' horns glowed, a shield in front of the trio. Hayt's eyes, though, never left the fleeing insectoid. He watched as it charged past the three horses-to their confusion-and go through the one way shield before entering a mass of insectoids that were hammering at the shield. The grin beneath Hayt's mask seemed to grow as he spotted the mass of insectoids that was much larger than the recently cooked horde he had first seen. “BE CLEANSED BY MY FLAME!” he screamed as he charged at the mass. His eagerness had caused him to depress the trigger earlier, the flame licking the purple armored horse. Luckily, the flame did little more than torch off a part of it's fur and darken it's hide. As soon as fire met carapace, Hayt began to laugh again as he swept his flamer side to side. The burning fuel ignited the insectoids and began to cook them within their own shells. As the entire front portion of their group was consumed in flames, a few turned and began to run, leaving the maniacal Guardsman and burning comrades. The trio of horses, the shields now dropped, simply looked on in a mixture of elation, confusion, and fear. Who knew when the crazy bipedal creature would turn that device on them? Hayt cared about none of this. The only thing he cared about was his crackling, yellow and orange offspring and boy... were they hungry. Author's Note I wrote this while listening to The Battle For Canterlot by ElectroKaplosion. Go ahead... click the link. You know you want to. By the way. Warhammer 40k is owned by Games Workshop while MLP:FiM is owned by Hasbro and yadda yadda yadda.
