Faith and Fire: Concerning mortals

by Diomedes

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Tragedy, Crossover, Human, Anthro
Length: 55125

The forces of two empires clash on the world of Epona. Equestria is caught in a war that they fear will destroy the once harmonious lands..

(Crossover between the Faith and Fire series and First contact universe, written by Terran117. Please spare some time to read his story.)
Equestria has been under the upstart and idealistic heel of the alien republic known as the UTF for over two years, the once peaceful and blissful country beginning to twist and strain as new ideas and opinions begin to surface among its population. The aliens have begun to bring power to the working class, glorifying the common worker in place of the pampered celebrity. Magic has been given mathematics, and mystery has been given reason.

To many this would bring a better and brighter world, but Equestria was never made to be as other worlds are, and such alien influence has swept over the lands in a violent way, turning neighbor against neighbor in a division of the classes.
The UTF are unstoppable, the princesses are beginning to feel their security begin to thin and Equestria is beginning to yield to their alien masters.

Or so they would be lead to believe.

(Set after season 3, but before season 4. Canon items, characters and locations given detail in season 4 will be paid their respects and noted as still a part of the universe this story takes place in. Imperial forces not of same background as Warhammer 40,000, if confused, please feel free to ask in the comments for clarification)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-11 20:07:16 UTC

1 - Shades of red

Freedom is not worth having if it does not connote freedom to err - Mahatma Gandhi

It was yet another discomfort atop many. The rain was not really rain at all, just an irritating drizzle that swatted and harassed Fluttershy as she desperately tried to slow her advance into the grey structure before her. The yellow pegasus weighed the cost of entering the large building opposed to biding her time in the grim weather. Inside awaited an alien, a being from another world, a creature she would rather do anything but meet, especially alone. Yet she was not allowed to be joined by her friends, even if they could have made it to stand by her side. All her closest friends had been far too preoccupied to spare a day to help her, all of them coping with the drastic changes effecting their lives.

Rainbow Dash hadn't been seen in a while, not since the accident. She rallied up a few friends to hold an anti-alien protest outside the very building Fluttershy now walked up to. The protest started to get tense when UTF security started firing shots in the air. The Ponies would have run for it after that, but Dashs' charisma held up the others courage.

Then the ghosts came.

The crowd dispersed after the first two ponies fell to the ground, bloodied and twisted. After that day, Dash hadn't left her house, she had barely spoken to her friends when they visited.

Pinkie had mostly stayed her unusual self, but she seemed to disappear every now and then, like she had just stopped whatever she had been doing and left. Once she came back with a black eye and wouldn't say how she had gotten it beyond 'It was an accident'.

Rarity had been running low on profits recently, and was working overtime on her dress-work to catch up financially. Her profits had been confiscated and distributed among Equestrias population. She had enough to pay for her house, her food and basic leisures, but not nearly enough to afford her previous luxuries, something she was not quickly growing accustomed to.

Applejack had been through the worst by far. Appleoosa, practically her second home was a series of scorched craters running two miles long, and her family living there, they were the ashes inside each impact site. Stallions, mares and children all, wiped out in a single sweep after the rebellion they forged began using a series of potion bombs to drive away the aliens that had begun to intrude upon their town. Applejack and the few remaining Apples had been made into a social mockery, an example of what the UTF opposed.

Along with the princesses.

The truth of it was the old Equestria was dying. Old traditions were being secured and observed, magic was being dissected and along with it replaced with technology. The sun and the moon were no longer under the control of the alicorn sisters, nor was the crystal heart anywhere to be found. Recently there had been rumors that royalty, and even celebrity public figures had gone missing or had been found dead. This made many fear for the princesses, for Equestrian culture and for everything they had held dear for so long. Many more celebrated it.

The masses of labor workers, average Joe's and those that had lived in the shadow of the old Equestria had begun to rally to the offerings of the UTF. Suddenly the common pony could afford a phone and a new wallpaper in a months savings, seeing many homes start to climb in quality and the families growing happier. All those who had been considered mostly unspectacular were beginning to gain power, even a simple brick layer could now outsmart a unicorn scientist with the new handheld computers they could afford. Recently those that spoke out against the UTF didn't need to be subdued by the brutalities of the imposing UTF security, instead they'd be shot down by the overwhelming number of equestrian supporters.

The train of thought had caused Fluttershy to stop in her tracks, not even upon realizing that she had been distracted did she continue walking, but instead stood staring up at the alien structure. The building was three stories tall and had an awkward shape, like a pyramid that had fallen out of the sky and buried itself into the ground at a strange angle. The monolith made the pegasus nervous, like the soldiers that stood outside. Fluttershy moved her eyes down to the base of the building, more accurately the entrance. Outside stood two UTF security guards, clad in black clothes underneath thick, black armour. The odd red trimmed their plate, along with their deep red goggles their wore, appearing as stern, menacing eyes that stared ahead unblinking. They held their alien weapons at their chests, the machines that spat out a fire that could cut a pony in two with but the push of a button. Fluttershys' fingers fidgeted above her chest, her head dropping down to let her long mane fall in front of her face as she clenched her eyes shut. Slowly but surely the mare placed her right hoof before her left, then her left before her right.

"Is there a problem, miss?"

The sharp, mechanical voice blared before her. The pegasus straight up jumped out her coat, her wings flapping wildly in a panic as she stumbled backwards. She had gained ground faster than her mind had anticipated, perhaps distracting herself with intensely fearful thoughts. She had come just a foot or two in front of the soldier before he had stopped her, and now he took a step forward. The aliens were known as Gaians, coming from their home world, Gaia. The aliens were around the same height as a pony, perhaps an inch or two taller on average. Their skin was fur-less and a ghostly pale colour, almost as if they were painted with chalk, and many had visible circuit lines glowing a bright neon upon their flesh like organic tattoos; like cutie marks. Their hair was normally fairly thin and dark in colour, cut into sharp shapes and at clean angles.Their eyes were normally dull colours, small and circled with a darker flesh. The aliens held themselves with a sense of pride, a pride that could easily evolve into superiority whenever they felt like it. They were quick to anger and had a tendencies to react to unfamiliar situations in a hostile manner, verbally at first soon followed by brutal physical suppression.

"Hey, answer me. Now!" The soldier barked, his stance widening as his grip on his weapon tightened. His companion echoed his behavior soon after.

Fluttershy flinched away, fear shaking her every bone. As if through the instinct to stay alive Fluttershy shoved her hand into her shoulder bag and pulled out a letter. At first the soldier snapped up his weapon, aiming straight for Fluttershys' head before he spotted the letter. He lowered his gun slightly before slowly grabbing the paper and bringing it to his face. He read the writing upon it and took a good look at the mug-shot of the mare before him. He looked at Fluttershy quickly and then back again at the letter.

"You're late. Get inside." He said sternly before handing back the paper and stepping aside.

Fluttershys' face was tense with fear, her eyes squinting tight as she quickly trotted through the automatic doors and into the structure.

The smell of the alien room was unbearably bland. It didn't smell of anything, not the softness of grass, the tang of trees or even the simple chalky musk of dirt. It was a sterile cube, decorated by a handful of holographic images, rectangles of bright reds and oranges, shifting and spinning with various circles and lines. There was a single alien plant in a black pot upon the desk in front of Fluttershy, its leaves fat and bloated with water, its stem twisting in a bizarre and almost 'designed' manner. Fluttershy felt more and more uneasy in such a dead space, in such a lifeless room lacking in character or warmth. Perhaps she was just being oversensitive, perhaps this decor was what the aliens found appealing, but Fluttershy couldn't shake her discomfort, she almost wanted the alien she was due to see to arrive sooner.

As if summoned through the pure willpower of the yellow mare the door gave a venomous hiss, opening gracefully to allow an alien walk through. This one was of a slender build, bearing slightly wider hips as well as a bump on its chest that could be assumed to be breasts. The female alien was silvery blonde hair tied in a bun behind her head, a couple of loose strands falling beside her face. Her face was soft, her features smooth and gentle, yet her defined, black makeup and lipstick gave her a somewhat vampiric appearance. She held a translucent orange handheld device that Fluttershy assumed to be a computer of sorts. She wore a very intricately designed dress of multiple shades of violet, like a rainbow had washed over her and frozen over. She held herself with a solid sense of self-impor, her body language automatically putting her in charge. She swiftly glided over to the chair opposite Fluttershy and placed her florescent computer tablet upon the desk before her.

"Miss Flutter Shy-" She said with a sharp sense of authority in her voice causing Fluttershy to sqeak in fright, the alien raising an eyebrow in response to the frightful native.

"Uhm...actually it's just Fluttershy, miss." Fluttershy said quietly.

"....Miss Shy, do you know why the federation has brought you here today?" The alien said in a tone that made it fairly obvious it was rhetorical.

"Oh, well, I got this letter. It says something about how you needing me to give you more money?" Fluttershy half asked.

"It states how your past two quarterly taxes have gone unpaid, and your third is due in just two weeks time. We need to know why these criteria have gone unmet?"

"Oh, w-well I'm really sorry, but I don't really make that much money. I make a few bits here and there looking after pets, and last week I tended to Golden Harvests' garden, but I just couldn't give up what you've been asking without going hungry."

The alien made a stretched facial expression, perhaps a sign that it somehow understood how Fluttershy was feeling in her situation.

"Are you saying you are jobless at this time?" She asked the mare.

"Uh, well I guess I am, yes." The pegasus responded, her confidence starting to gain some footing.

"Miss Shy, you realize the federations position towards unemployment?" The alien asked flatly while flitting her slender finger across the glassy surface of her tablet.

Fluttershy didn't know how to respond, she didn't really know what the answer was. Fluttershy had never had an actual job before, and to be perfectly honest with herself she didn't really want one. If she had a job, how would she make time for all her animal friends, how would she take care of them all, would she even have time to feed Ange-.

Fluttershys' trail of thought was abruptly cut in two. Her mind went blank for what seemed like an hour, just a hollow echo of her last thought.

Angel.

She sure did miss her little bunny. All she could do was hope she was safe and happy, wherever he'd gone to. Sure, Angel had been quite a handful to look after, but he had been one of her closest friends for years, ever since he was just a baby. Then one day, out of the blue he'd disappeared. Fluttershy found her door was unlocked when she'd come home, and inside all her animals were terrified, scared senseless by something. Yet Angel was nowhere to be found. This was just under two years ago, just after the UTF had come to Equestria.

"Ahem! The federation is not tolerant of those who feel they are exempt from society. You live in a state of the federation, and the federation doesn't rent land out to hermits." The alien shot at the pegasus.

Fluttershy shook herself back to reality. She'd been called many things before; soft, scaredy-cat, pushover, but she'd never been called a hermit before. The snide comment was enough to push Fluttershy that little bit too far.

"Well, when Princess Celestia ruled I never had to pay-!"

"Celestia is an illegitimate ruler, a usurper of the truth and an enemy to the federation. I seriously suggest you start to consider her the same as we do."

Fluttershy wanted to retort, she wanted to tell this thing how wrong it was. But she couldn't, no one could. Of course, the UTF completely supported free speech, as long as that speech didn't put down their alien regime. If anyone spoke up it wouldn't be long until the dark soldiers would put you down, sometimes for good. The alien gave a sigh before moving on.

"As chief administrator of Ponyville I'm going to have to place you into a workplace, you seem good with animals so I'm setting you up with the veterinary."

Fluttershys' eyes shot up in shock.

"Oh! No! No, I can't work at the vets! Yeh, I'm great with animals, but I couldn't stand seeing sick animals all day. Plus sometimes they have to...well..." Fluttershy blurted out, her hands fiddling with her hair frantically.

"Hey, it's either the vets or no work at all, and as far as the federation's concerned that just leaves one option." The administrator said deadpan.

"I'll do anything else! I-I-I can open a market stall, or a small shop! I think I could knit!" Fluttershy said desperately.

"You think you can manage home and buisness taxes at once? Really?"

"Just let me look for another job, please." Fluttershy pleaded, trying to calm herself.

"Ok, fine. Three days. On the fourth day from today you come to me with a UTF employment form or you get to be a vet. That's final, good day Miss Shy." The alien finalized.

"B-b-but-" Fluttershy tried to take a shot at sweetening the deal a bit.

"I said goo day, Miss Shy." The administrator repeated in exasperation.

Fluttershy scrunched her face in frustration, her hands gripping her jumper tight before she abruptly let go and shot up out of her chair. She quickly trotted out of the room and made for the automatic-stairs before practically running for the door. She was furious at how she was being bullied into doing what some creepy aliens wanted her to do. She didn't care how it was helping her country, how other ponies where able to be happier, it was her home, her money and her life. She just wanted to be left alone. She wanted everything to go back to how Equestria used to be.

The rain was beginning to pick up, yet another sore on Fluttershys' day. She pulled up with small hood under the thick layers of her jumper. She kept close to the shops and houses to better avoid the downpour, hearing all the varieties of conversation going on inside the cafes and retailers. Fluttershy wasn't one to eavesdrop, but it was kind of hard to ignore the opinions of the town on how Equestria had changed over the two years.

"And now I have to pay another twelve bits just to run a business! Why should I pay for some window washer in Manehattan to give his apartment new wallpaper with money I earned?!"

"I heard that Iron Will guy got taken in for 'questioning' about his business, haven't seen him since."

"And that new hover-bot thingy, it follows me around all day. I know my eyes are bad, but it's like having somepony waiting around for you to make a mistaAAAYYY! -CRASH-.....Uheheh, whoops..."

"Oh he's doing better, thank you. If only he hadn't let his temper get the better of him that soldier wouldn't have...well, he'd be able to stand right here next to me right now."

"Haven't heard much of the princesses recently. And have you seen the posters outside? Disgraceful."

Fluttershy switched her attention to the wall of the shop she had just passed in response to what she had just heard. Right in front of her was a large poster of red, white and black. It depicted Celestia, Luna and Twilight shielding their eyes from an intense light that was coming from a book held by a prideful UTF soldier. The vision of offensive propaganda twisted some sensitive emotions in Fluttershy, it made her feel an unfamiliar feeling; anger.

She shook her head before quickly heading off again. However her journey would not relent in its attempt to bring her temper to the boil. Poster after poster, each as controversial, insulting and elitist as the last. The princesses blindfolding ponies, alien scholars teaching excited fillies and colts, a UTF scientist standing atop a pile of Equestrian text with a handheld computer, a soldier looming over the royal guard like a giant and even a poster of a huge alien starship overlooking Epona with bold text underneath that did nothing to hide exactly what the UTF thought of Equestria:

'JUST TRY US!'

Fluttershy found herself looking up at the cloudy sky, knowing that the huge metal ship was up there somewhere with enough firepower to turn all Equestria into a smoldering wasteland in an instant. Fluttershy couldn't help but think how unfair this all was, how this was just a big game to the aliens, just an achievement to be had. And if things didn't go their way then they'd just wipe out everything, and Fluttershy knew that it was because they were scared of the ponies, of what they could do. Sure, the aliens had big guns, big ships and technology they claimed was superior to magic, but magic was indeed something they outright didn't have, and could never have naturally. The aliens dismissed magic as non-existent, as just a word to be used when you can't explain something, but the UTF boasted that they could explain anything.

Fluttershy wasn't convinced.

Magic was real.

It had to be.

"I've already told you, no! And when a lady says no, she means no!"

"Oh really? Well when the federation says 'Do as we say or we'll arrest you, guess what the federation means?"

Rarity took a dramatic gasp at the alien soldiers attitude, her hand pressing against her chest for emphasis.

"You wouldn't dare! Do you even know who I am!? Why if I were to tell Princess Twilight Sparkle about this you'd be thrown in the dungeons before you had the chance to apologize for such rude behavior!"

The two soldiers laughed like a pair of idiots. If they hadn't been carrying their big guns and wearing their scary armour, Fluttershy would have marched right up to them and told them what was what. But for now she'd hide in the bush outside Carousel Boutique.

"I love this horse, Jack, she's just fucking hilarious! Now where was I? Oh right, quarterly payments. Pay up." The soldier demanded flatly, his friend still chuckling to himself.

"I refuse to share out my hard earned money and my designs to ponies I don't even know. I of all ponies know the value of generosity, but this is just mindless charity!" Rarity said, crossing her arms and turning up her muzzle in defiance.

"I'm sure your 'hard earned' money will be going to a good home. I'm sure they'll bath it, take it for walkies and keep it well fed. Payment, now!" The soldier demanded.

"Oh is that so?! Tell me, who's receiving my money? What do they do? Where do they live? It's simply ridiculous!"

"This discussion is over. We are the law, and the law demands all citizens pay up a quarterly tax, especially little snobs like you."

Rarity was practically fuming.

"How dare you! That's it, I'm sending a letter to the princess this instant!"

The guards continued to applaud the comedy stand up with tidal waves of laughter.

"Alright, screw this. Madam, under UTF law section 3, subsection 1-A/12 I am enforcing my duty to collect your quarterly tax payment by entering your premises. Come on, Jack." The pair barged past Rarity who wailed in protest.

Fluttershy slowly crept from her hiding spot and approached the front door, Rarity stirring up Tartarus inside all the while. Just as the she reached the frame of the door the large soldiers marched back out, Rarity in tow.

"Get back here right now! This is stealing!" Rarity bellowed.

"Yeah, whatever. Thank you for your...'cooperation', citizen. We hope you will be able to make your next payment more easily." The soldier replied, his tone thick with sarcasm.

They marched off, leaving Rarity exhausted and flustered at her doorstep. At first it seemed as if Rarity was going to scream in frustration, but instead whatever frustration folded inwards as her hand shot up to her mouth and her eyes grew tense.

"R-Rarity? Are you ok?" Fluttershy spoke up, Rarity jumping slightly as she only just noticed the pegasus was next to her.

"Oh dear, Fluttershy. I........of course........I'm....." Rarity tried swallowing the coming tears, but instead grew tenser until her sobs begun to spill out.

Fluttershy didn't see it fit to say anything at this time, instead a hug would have to do.

The two ponies made a final dash for Fluttershys' cottage, rain hurrying them inside.

"Oh g-g-goodness! I really should have grabbed a coat before we left." Rarity said through her shivering.

"One second, almost got it! There!" Fluttershy announced as she fumbled for her keys before finally unlocking the door.

Inside, the residing animals scuttled away from the doorway as Fluttershy stepped inside soon followed by Rarity. The two where utterly soaked through, their manes and tails thick with rainwater. Fluttershy let Rarity change first as her very fine yet very thin white shirt did her no favors being wet. Fluttershy did her best to get warm by practically sitting inside her lit fireplace.

"I'm reeeeeady~!" Rarity sing-songed as she stepped out Fluttershys bathroom, a pink towel wrapped around her drying mane.

"Thanks, I shouldn't be long." Fluttershy said as she hurried to her bathroom, ridding herself of her damp clothes as she went.

She quickly changed into some dry clothes, hung her damp ones on a radiator and wrapped up her mane in another towel.

"I'll get us some tea. Usual, Rarity?" Fluttershy asked while walking to her open kitchen.

"Oh yes please, thank you. I really need something to calm the nerves."

"How did you even get into such a situation? Didn't you get any warning that...they'd be round?" Fluttershy inquired, preparing the drinks.

"Oh of course they gave me warning, but that's exactly it isn't it darling? Warning! They're warning us that if we don't do as they say they'll make us! It's not fair. All of Equestria is being bullied and most of us are just rolling over and enjoying it, just so that the workers get more money, just so that 'science' gets to dominate magic. I miss everything...I miss my life...I miss it being my life." Rarity mused, the pearl mare truly showing her talent at giving a dramatic situation emphasis.

"I....know how you feel. I mean, I just had my appointment to discuss my quarterly earlier today. Now I have to get a job in three days or I have to work at the vets." Fluttershy added, her tone growing heavy with worry.

"Well that isn't so bad, you're great with animals." Rarity chimed.

"It's terrible! I won't just be caring for animals, I'll have to give them shots, maybe even operate on them! And then if they can't get better..." Fluttershy replied in a shrill voice.

"Oh I'm sorry darling, it never occurred to me! Now that you've put it like that, it's probably best you don't pursue that particular line of work. Maybe I could get you into working at Sofas and Quills! Me and the manager there, well, we had a certain, enjoyable night toge-" Rarity began to get buried in apparently a very fond memory Fluttershy thought it best to not let her reveal too much information.

"Oh yes, Rarity, that would be really great if you could. At this point, I'd take anything over hurting a poor animal."

"Not a problem my dear. Talking of our common dilemma, how do you suppose our other friends are doing? Do you know if anypony else has gotten new work?"

"I know Pinkie still works at the bakery, I think the Cakes gave in their business to the federation. Twilights' still stuck in Canterlot, no word from her since that last letter we all got. Noone's seen Rainbow Dash in weeks, but I'm pretty sure she's just hold up in her cloud house and goes out to get groceries whenever she can. And Applejack...well I'm sure you've heard of that situation like the rest of Ponyville."

Fluttershy felt sadness well up in her like a toxic spill, like a thick oily fluid filling her very veins.

"I know. I wish I could visit her, just to check how she is, but I think I'd be going in knowing what I'd be hearing. It just never seems like it would be a good time to see her. But I still worry about her so much, I've been hearing all sorts of horrible rumors about her."

"What, like the one about her breaking the security soldiers knee because he asked to see her I.D card? It's true, I saw it from across the street. I never knew she could run so fast, but then with thighs like hers it's kind of a surprise she stayed still and Epona rolled over underneath her." Rarity jested with a friendly giggle.

"W-what about the one about the potion bomb in the armored vehicle? Surely Applejack wouldn't-"

"All true dear, I saw the soldiers three hours after it happened still trying to clean out that ugly machine." Rarity said with a shiver.

"And the one where she bucked over the antennae the UTF use to talk to their ships?" Fluttershy asked as she walked over to her friend, handing her a cup of warm tea.

"True" Rarity replied before taking her first sip.

"The one where she stole four full ammo boxes and threw them into Ghastly Gorge?"

"Mhmm."

"Set off the crate of flares at the fuel depot?"

"Yep."

"Surely not the one about the tank?"

"Upside down, in the river. Apparently Colgate saw them haul it out with two cranes." Rarity said almost as surprised as when she first heard the gossip.

"Oh, Applejack. She's going to get in serious trouble if she gets caught. Oh ponyfeathers, who am I kidding, she'll get killed!" Fluttershy said to no one in particular.

"I know dear, but that pony is as stubborn as a mule. I don't think anypony could persuade that girl to change her mind, especially after what happened." The white unicorn peered sadly into her teacup as she remembered how all ponyville had felt upon hearing the news of the scouring of Appleoosa.

Dozens of families turned to dust along with their town, all because the aliens had been attacked by a group of stallions  and mares loyal to the Apples business. The ponies had prepared the potion bombs that disabled the electronics of the aliens machines along with some that caused mild explosions. All things considering, the ponies where little more than an annoyance to the aliens, but the UTF had seen an opportunity to be seized. The rise of the rebels in Appleoosa was a chance to show off their god-like powers, their ability to decimate anything they wanted whenever they wanted.

They had used a similar technique against nearly every other race native to Epona, the dragons, griffins, diamond dogs and even the zebras and mules. These events had been but rumors met with general dismissal, as far as anypony was concerned such a power was incomprehensible as it was impossible. But after the rebellion the UTF claimed that the town posed 'Too greater threat' to the rest of Equestria, and such a threat needed to be extinguished.

It was night time when Appleoosa burned, and the fires could be seen as clearly from Ponyville as well as the screams could be heard.

As was the intention of the federation. They wanted all Equestria trembling in fright of their power, to subdue them, to ensure their transition into the alien regime went smoothly and unchallenged.

"I for one see where the poor mare is coming from. That was her family for Celestias sake, most of her family." Rarity said with a sharpness to her words.

"I just don't want the same thing to happen to her. I don't want the same thing to happen to all ponyville. I don't think the federation will just draw the line at Appleoosa. I think...I think if Applejack keeps this up, it could be us next." The frightful pegasus replied, her words shaking with fear.

"I know. But then again, I can't help but appreciate how Applejack is refusing to back down just because some freaks tell us they'll hurt us if we stop being obedient little sheep."

"...I'd rather be a sheep than dead , Rarity." Fluttershy whimpered.

"...Me too darling. I guess it's nice to think I could be that brave. I think I'll visit Applejack tomorrow, just see how she is, perhaps talk her out of doing whatever she's planning next."

"Be careful, Rarity. You know how she can be."

"Not to worry dear. Say...could I be so bold as to ask if you have room to spare for tonight? After today, I think I'd sleep easier knowing there's somepony else in the house, and a house that isn't the target for those armored brutes." Rarity asked sheepishly.

"Of course, Rarity, I'll always have room for my friends." Fluttershy assured with a warm smile, taking another sip of her tea.

2 - The Orchestration

General Mason

General Mason

General Mason

General Mason straightened his uniform for what felt like the ninetieth time that minute, every movement he made making another crease he had to rid himself of, and the only way to do that was to move. And so another crease appeared. He thought the title over and over to himself, not to save himself from forgetting his very identity, but in the hope that somehow it would aid him in projecting it. He needed his authority, his stature to be known as clear as day, he needed to emanate it. He tugged at his sleeve as another crease appeared around his elbow, and then another around his shoulder. The dark grey of his uniform held light in a very elegant way, it let it flow over him with almost a surreal fluidity, emphasizing every sharp corner, every curve and imperfection. And every crease.

A part of Mason despised the crease, despised how it gave his form imperfection, how it ruined his sharpness and distorted the very aesthetic of his uniform. Yet in another way he needed another crease to appear, he needed to busy himself with a task, even a task as minuscule as smoothing out a simple groove upon his blazer. It was a very smart blazer. The collar sat flat against his neck, trimmed with an even darker rubber with a pair of indentations running its length all the way around his neck. A wealth of different shades of red and orange danced across the left of his upper chest in the fashion of several horizontal stripes sat above two rows of holographic medals. Also red. Also orange.

A knocking came from his door.

"Come in!" Mason called out, his tone calm and simple.

A single security soldier stepped through the door as it slid to the side, concealing itself within its wall.

"General, Sir! The meeting is about to begin, your presence is requested at the bridge." The soldier saluted before informing the general, his form utterly solid.

"Thank you Corporal, dismissed." Mason replied, his eyes still glued to the mirror sat before him.

The soldier saluted once more before sharply turning and marching out of the Generals quarters. Mason took a breath, destroying one last crease before turning his attention to his facial appearance. His dark hair remained clean and well combed back, just as he'd left it five minutes earlier. His eyes were small, soft eyes that seemed to be in a consistent state of lax, not that it impaired the General at all, but others had said that he always had this look about him that he was daydreaming. His strong jaw was a strange sight among his kind, making him appear very much like a bit of a caveman, but he didn't mind, sometimes he sure felt like one.

General Henry Mason gave his blazer one last tug before heading out his quarters and to the bridge.

"General on deck!" Announced the superior of deck security who stood by the entrance door, his hand quickly snapping to his brow in a salute.

Mason stopped a second after his third step into he bridge, taking just that tiny moment to take in his surroundings. The immediate bridge was a level platform surrounded by a strong, thickly built railing barrier. Below the barrier was a second level that payed home to twenty computer terminals that controlled ship-wide systems and kept a close watch over the colossal vessels status.

The UTF carrier, the Frontier of Reason, was a magnificent testament to the UTFs might, it's utter superiority. The ship was twenty kilometers end to end, a giant block of grey in an ocean of diamond speckled darkness. The heavy carrier was second only the the colossal Dreadnought super-ships, but its class was still considered the tip of the sear when concerning space engagements. Boasting ten tesla-conductor cannons, twenty nuclear warhead silos with each fully loaded with ten missiles, two adjustable ion cannons, thirty rail-accelerator cannons and enough defense turret to plough a small country, the carrier was the ultimate off switch to any conflict.

Then why is it here? Though Mason.

The General descended a short set of metal grill stairs and stepped up to the holographic table at the center of the platform. From this position he could see the rest of the bridge, a vast expanse easily the size of a public pool, host to dozens of command consoles and data terminals. A hundred staff busied themselves about the command deck, all firmly submerged in their work. Mason took note of those already assembled about the neon orange table, six officers all in formal dress.

First was First Commander Nehdela Mula, a tall man of dark flesh, strong features, shaved head and sincere expression. He held himself with a respectable level of self awarness, not enough to make him appear arrogant, but so much that his very posture announced 'I am here, I am proud'.

Next was Nicholas Chang, second lieutenant and commander of the UTF forces stationed within the location known as Manehatten. His build was fair and solid, yet he had a distinct wideness to his shoulders and chest. Whereas Mula has only two bio-circuits running straight backwards from the far corners of his eyes, Chang had dozens, making him appear as if overflowing with bio-digital data. In a way it made his well rounded and smooth features appear sharper and more radical. He stood with a strange form of lifelessness, yet was not the kind that relaxed the body but instead much like one would expect when observing a statue.

Captain Sirahbid Muhahlah, commander of the Frontier stood with his palms rested upon the surface of the holo-table. His skin was unlike most others, comparably fully of color next to the deathly white of Chang. Bio-circuit ran down his forehead like freshly fallen rainwater, aglow with a healthy orange. His body language spoke of many hours of sleepless work, his expression heavy with exhaustion. Mason understood Muhahlahs' tiredness, he'd been aboard the Frontier for a solid month and he'd seen the man run a marathon around the ship at least six times. The man was dedicated and hard working.

Natalie Rsenomena was representing Doctor Kliener, who had announced he was too busy with his work on the surface of Epona to join the meeting aboard the carrier. The doctor before him was a lady of small build, full features and graceful Bio-circuits that complimented her features remarkably well. She was dressed in formal civilian clothing rather than the uniform shared among the officers about her, which made her look a touch out of place, like some sort of half-welcome bystander.

The next face Mason new far too well, General Solavona Dragovich. The guy was built solid as stone, his face rounded and full, yet splashed with various scars. His expression was a strange mix of being stern and at the same time somewhat mildly amused by something, as if he was always in the middle of a funny thought. His head was shaved clean which showed of a fair few circuits that lay there glowing their fiery red. He was by far the oldest there, pushing fifty, but everyone knew there'd be no ridding of him until he was a smoldering corpse on some battlefield, the man preferred to command from the front line.

And lastly, stood next to Dragovich like a lapdog, was Sergeant Major Lambert Kelly. He was the only one not dressed in clean cut, freshly ironed uniform, instead he wore full battledress. He appeared much like a common assault trooper, only his armour plate was a blood red and was gifted with extra cuts of conde-carb kevlar, to ensure that Dragovichs' favorite pet didn't go get himself hurt. Being completely honest, Mason had never gotten a good look at Kellys' face, which didn't surprise him too much seeing as how the guy was practically a 23rd fanboy. Kelly had a reputation for acquiring the services of the shady assassins far too often for it to be considered entirely necessary, a habit Mason was beginning to notice had been passed to Dragovich himself.

"Ah, my friend, Mason! Please, come join us." Captain Muhalah waved Mason, showing he was relieved someone he'd known for longer than the last four minutes had arrived.

The other officers all seemed to assess Mason, their calm eyes scanning over him for just a fraction of a second before returning to the holo-table.

"I do believe that is everyone now. So, I believe the spotlight now goes to General Dragovich. Al yours, sir." Muhalah announced, stepping aside for Dragovich and his lacky to fill the center point of one of the tables widest edges.

Dragovich took a second to quickly load up a holographic display upon the glassy surface of the display table. Upon the pool of neon orange was summoned a spectral representation of Equestria, the country the federation found so interesting as to devote an entire planetary defensive detachment to watch over it. The smooth surface of ionized light particles formed a sculpture of a vast and graceful landscape, a beautiful mix of rolling hill, swift rivers and monumental mountains. Icons and text highlighted cities, town and UTF facilities, civilian compatible structures highlighted with a hammer and sickle icon, military posts with a gas masked helmet.

"Good afternoon everyone, I hope your stay has been a comfortable one. I will deliver my own personal report and overview on operation REDSTORM, and when I am finished I shall take a moment to hear all of your own. So where to begin? I guess it'd be sensible to start with the obvious and unnecessary. UTF personnel fatality is still at an applaudable zero, energy expenditure including feul and life support systems are well within acceptable levels, maintenance and facility quality is in the green and all the paperwork is flowing nicely."

"Now, onto troop morale. Most of you would believe the men planet side would be in a fair mood as they would be in any other operation. This is the case in most military stations, and would be for all of them if not for some very apparent difficulties a handful of towns have been experiencing. As you are fully aware the indigenous population, the Equestrians, have for the most part been rather easily influenced and accepting of the reason and progress we have to offer them. Reports from locations such as Manehattan, Fillydelphia-"

Mason noted how a couple of the officers gave a slight snort of amusement at the names of the cities. The general kept his face disciplined and calm.

"-and Trottingham suggest that the Equestrians have gladly accepted the new regime. The privileged, prideful and materialistic have been all but evicted or disposed of, meaning production and benefit can be initiated smoothly and immediately after the next quarterly tax collection."

The officers gave a series of nods and mutters of approval. Mason remained still and silent.

"However, stations at Ponyville, Canterlot and the ground generator complex beneath Cloudsdale have all provided increasingly disturbing reports. The condensed light collection facilities are functional and since the last...incident, have been installed with stationary overshield generators. I'd like to see those pastel-colored maniacs try the same trick twice now."

Trust you to think they'll stop there Thought Mason.

"Ponyville has its very own 'masked vigilante' running around causing havok. We have a pretty solid idea who she is, but me and some of the feds floating about have agreed it's best she be arrested and charged with her crimes in the right way, at the right time, so we'll wait until she makes a mistake. Then we'll show all of the town what happens to enemies of reason."

Mason, Natalie and Muhalah did not nod in firm agreement like the others upon hearing Dragovichs' divine scheme. Muhalah failed in this due to his goliath effort into suppressing a much needed yawn. That guy really needed some sleep.

"Canterlot has been more of a waste of time than actual trouble. Trying to reform that damn fairy castle is like trying to turn a rock into a sponge. I see no further need to invest any more resources on the location, so it'd be best to break the morale of those royal snobs over the next few weeks and let the hard working mares and stallions of the larger cities take the castle for themselves, perhaps with some aid from our own forces; seal the deal with their society and our own. But beyond these small bumps in the road, reforming this planet has been a breeze and our swift success is something you have all made possible. So an applause to all present, thank you everyone for your hard work!" Dragovich announced, first to the officers and then turning to the dozens of staff about the bridge, granting everyone a small applause that spread like wildfire about the command center.

Mason gave his own applause as well, perhaps not as enthusiastically as Dragovich and certainly not those who whooped and whistled, but still a sincere one. Everyone had worked hard, working around the clock to kick start the much needed revolution these primitives needed. A lot of lives had been made a lot better, entire cities becoming more beneficent for the people that lived there.

But not everyone was happy.

Not everyone had made it to this point.

The sacrifice was necessary The words echoed through Masons' skull for what seemed like a century.

The following reports seemed to just repeat what Dragovich had just said, only in finer detail. Shipping schedules, supply counts, civilian identification, civilian labor records, tax records, education results. Mason kept a rough tab on everything said, though he was really just waiting for his chance too speak, for certain things had so far remained unsaid. Next was Muhalah.

"Soooo...uh, I'd say everything has been going well, though I cannot remain silent on how taxing the work up here has been. Hours are long and sleep has become something of a privilege. This toil is mostly focused on the comms deck and the staff there; you guys really like making a lot of long phone calls back home and it's proving a chore for our personnel and systems. Just last week I myself had to help a ten man team replace a burnt out signal coil because so many high yield messages have been made. I'm by no means saying to stop delivering the federation its much needed reports on our work here, but it'd be handy if everyone in your departments could just try cutting down on the number of unnecessary video logs and photo stacks; I'm sure the feds don't need forty pictures of moss and woodlice."

Mason was guilty of such insensitivity. He hadn't truly considered what his reports had done to the relay systems and staff maintaining them. To imagine what a thousand times his usual report of twenty terabytes was doing to the comm amplifiers, it would mean the teams up here would have to change a coil every two days, and considering they take twenty four hours to replace it meant the teams would be looking at possibly two or even three days without sleep or rest.

"Weapon systems are still cool and have remained unused since Appleoosa. I'm expecting a new ion core for two of this ships own guns, the feedback residue has been piling up recently in the main drives. If you spend any time in the other ships, make sure the captains are keeping a close eye on their own guns, the last thing we need is our guns blowing out a hundred tons of toxic ooze instead of actually firing anything."

Muhalah finished up and stepped down, allowing the doctor to speak her own story. Before beginning she unfolded and activated a digital tablet to read from, shedding light on how this was quite the alien situation for her.

"Right, well, firstly I'd like to voice Doctor Klieners' deepest regrets having not been able to attend this gathering. He assures everyone present that his work is more than worth his absence, crucial and troublesome work needs to be overlooked for the next few days."

"The planet side laboratory complex has made some truly fantastic discoveries. Our studies into the indigenous population of Epona are by far our most intense and highly concerned work as we have delved deep into their unique abilities and biology. Studies have shed a great light on the unicorn talents of telekinesis, matter redistribution and-"

Dragovich cut the doctor off, his rough, rumbling voice drowning out her own.

"Yes, yes Doctor, we all know the pretty ponies can pick stuff up with their horns. Shadow squad has already covered the work your team still picks away at even today. Are there not better things to busy yourself with other than science that has already been solved?" The general growled.

The doctor couldn't help but roll her eyes at the generals arrogance.

"General I assure you that our work runs deeper than the shallow observations made by a group of psychopaths and their 'WikiFed' goggles! Yes, the....first contact team made some very clean cut discoveries and provided them with very solid but very short sighted theories -"

"Facts, Doctor, facts." Dragovich shot at the doctor, Kelly crossing his arms next to the general.

"....Yet these theories have been made by UTF technology and by our own species, limiting our perception of these discoveries by...well, our own perception. There still remains missing reactions, gaps in the math that throw the entire calculation off center. Recently, Doctor Xi discovered that what we thought was an electromagnet conductor in the unicorn horns is only an emitter, an amplifier for a much more elusive energy signature that we, quite frankly, are having great difficulty pinning down with numbers. We'll continue to draw up formulas but we're currently looking at a decade long scientific investment judging by how deep this science goes. Even then, this may only be a fraction of the true answer we're looking for."

"Very well, conduct your experiments to your hearts content. Now, what about what we really want to know about?" Mula piped up in a sharp tone.

Natalie gave a sigh before continuing. She flicked her fingers at her tablet and then at the holo-table to bring up a light sculpture of a very exotic looking firearm, like a coil gun but with much of its outer chassis shed.

"The experimental weapons division is proceeding with more...'solid' results. Although we have only cooked up the basic formula for larger scale weapons, the first batch of prototype Xeron AA-62 rifles have been fabricated and firmly tested a number of times. Though we, thankfully, haven't tested the firearms on living test subjects, we can estimate the weapons effect on the energy signatures of the Equestrians. The semi-automatic rifle has a maximum effective range of around sixty feet, a range we feel we could double in the next two years. The rounds begin as solid containers that are charged and travel along the barrel of the weapon, once at the end of the barrel the round discharges and the casing disintegrates to release the energy pulse held inside."

"The effects when hitting an Equestrian target are quite odd. The target should feel no pain directly, but the round essentially destroys the elusive energy signature meshed into the bio-fabric of the being. The individual first experiences severe numbness, exhaustion, temporary blindness and looses the ability to string together coherent thought for a few seconds. Beyond that the individual is expected to loose their pre-determined pigment blemish, their 'cutie mark', and loose their ability to excel in whatever the mark dictated they be proficient in. Unicorns will loose the ability to use their talents, Pegasi loose their weather manipulation abilities and the earth ponies loose a portion of their overall strength and energy that influences biomatter around them. These effects wear off after a period of ten years or so, but they are very solid as long as they are in effect."

The officers all looked very pleased with the new product being displayed, a new toy to let the troops play with. Mason himself was looking forward to seeing the weapon in action, though feared the infantry might see it as more of a tool similar to pepper spray or stun baton. This thing was very much a weapon, it caused a very potent kind of damage to the mind of the victim, being essentially made useless with but the squeeze of a trigger.

"That'll be all doctor. So, where do we go from here? First we finish all scheduled work set out for the next quarter, and seal up any loose assets along the way. Then we start moving our military forces into all cities and towns, supporting the local revolutions and dealing with whatever the federation supporters can't. These people haven't seen terrorism like we have, so they won't know how to effectively deal with acts of terrorism. So, as minor as these acts might be, our forces will repel them so the majority of the work goes to the natives." The general emphasized his plan with a series of hand gestures, everyone paying close attention to the details of the plan that followed.

"And so, this plan will be lead by General Masons' forces. Mason, if you would." Dragovich gestured to the table, his gaze fixed on Masons' own.

"My forces will act as the spearhead for this operation, we'll head into the cities and stick close behind the civilian crowds. As we proceed we'll set up defensive choke-holds inside the buildings overlooking the streets, making sure no one who wishes to deal damage to the crowds from behind. The forces following us in are to be stopped at the checkpoints we set up and re-briefed on the status of the upcoming sector even if they learn nothing new. The last thing I want is troops mowing down a crowd of civies because their intel says the sector is a hot-spot for rebels, and I don't give a shit how many men whinge and whine about how tedious this process is. In fact, every time a guy starts bitching the officer giving the briefing has to start over, consider that a federal law when participating in this operation."

"Ah, Mason, thorough as ever. I'm sure such precautions are quite unnecessary. Our men can surely handle a primitive situation like this." Dragovich chuckled, echoed by most of the other officers, even Muhalah.

"Strange that it's a situation we're so familiar with then? Right?" Mason swiftly shot back.

Dragovichs' full, strong face slowly seemed to melt, the humor and superiority dripping away to reveal a much more basic sneer.

"I want a full report on every trooper, every gun and vehicle we have. I'll cut up the numbers and send you the requests within the week. Just get me details on our forces." Mason finished.

"Right then, best we all get to it. I have my men to see to, I'm sure you have your own." Dragovich announced before marching off, Kelly in close tow.

Mason knew where the general was headed, who....what he was going to summon. Mason made for his own destination at a quick walk, hearing the speedy steps of Muhalah rushing to keep up.

"They came aboard yesterday Mason, they brought enough firepower to level an amusement park. They're obviously here to put a heel down on the social targets." Muhalah talked as though he'd just run a marathon.

"Thank you Captain. I'm gonna get the word to the big guys, I need you to keep things solid here. And for goodness sake man, get some damn sleep." Mason said without pause, keeping his pace solid.

"Yes sir, thank you sir."

".....And you can assure me a one hundred percent success rate along with a minimal clean up record."

"Yes, General. No collateral damage, minimal civilian casualties and a zero witnesses through each operation. We'll keep up the theatrics, get them real scared real fuckin' quick. There won't be a native on the streets after dark for the next century after we're done."

The shadowy figures voice was a monotone buzz, a digital mutter that could be easily understood, but was difficult to grasp with any sense of comfort.

Dragovich liked this very much.

"I want every native with a wallet fatter than my fist to be either throwing gold at the nearest educated worker or feed them bullets." Dragovich said with a tense tone.

The shadow cracked his knuckles.

"With pleasure, General."

"Great, playing moral tennis with the gouls. Fuckin' great."

The giant pulled his mass up once more towards the steel bar. His muscles worked with little stress or flaw, working fluidly as if he was light as a feather.

"Unfortunately, yes. Captain, I know your Olympians have been kept in this quiet corner of the universe for a while now, but this is important. No heated combat, no skull crushing, you just gotta act the poster boys for now." Mason said to the giant who dropped to the metal floor with a thud, turning to face the general.

"No worries, General, we got you covered. I'm gonna want to get my boys fully stocked up on equipment though, don't want to caught with our pants down if things decide to explode into an all out conflict."

"It won't come to that...I hope. And sure thing, consider the armory open. Thank, Theo." Mason said giving the Olympian a firm grin.

The Olympian, the master of combat itself calmly marched over to the general. The augmented soldier stood at 7'2'', towering over Masons' 6'1''. His muscles were outlined by the flow of his bio-suit, a mesh of bio-synthetic muscle weave that acted as a second skin. His mass was thick and extremely well toned, his build solid. The soldiers face was of dark flesh, the darkest Mason had ever seen. His face was a maze of circuitry that burnt a surreal yellow as if his skin was splitting apart through failing to contain such raw power beneath. His eyes were a pale blue, his small pupils standing out all the more, making him appear almost undead.

"My pleasure, sir."

3 - Fear the Reaper

The purple mare hid behind the shelter of a buildings corner, leading into an alleyway soaked in inky blackness. Her breathing was heavy, yet began to calm as footsteps dimmed and died out in the night. She let out a breath she had held to give way to the quiet that would confirm her safety. The native was such a strange creature, like something designed, drawn by some vivid imagination and made real. Her purple coat was simply divine, neatly kept and bearing a healthy shine, as did her long mane that was kept in check half way down its glistening, green length by a blue hairband. Her arms were thin and delicate, ending in almost angelically gentle hands. Her neck was a mix of being Gaian and swan-like, slightly longer than that of the aliens and swept back slightly making her appear very regal in posture. She had a full feature, plump bust, firm but healthy waist and wide hips that led to thick legs with hoofed feet. The appearance of the natives was almost ridiculous to the aliens, for how could a creature evolve to become so visually pleasing, the calming appearance of the Equestrians spreading unease and distrust through the UTF ranks.

The mare peered around the corner once to check the alien soldiers had moved onward before taking to a sprint, zipping away into the dimly lit night, probably headed back to the safety of her home. Unknown to the frightened mare, she had been watched the entire time.

A specter, an unseen force slithered from the shadows and took up a position where the girl had once been. His vision was intruded with welcome by a bright red reticule, a circular cross-hair with a small dot at its' center. The reticle scanned left to right, his tactical visor stored within his dark red goggles throwing highlight lines across the edges of every structure he looked at, his motion radar tracking the once-seen mare that now just escaped the scanners range, her small orange dot racing beyond the circular limits of the display. The unseen soldier advanced through Canterlot square and towards the palace grounds.

His target was due to be staying nearer the palace, in one of the guest mansion rooms in a bid to remain safe. Perhaps she felt the nearer the princesses she was the safer she would be. The thought made the soldier grin, for he would be more than delighted to prove her how flawed such a plan was. There was no wall high enough, no fortress secure enough and no distance great enough to halt the Reaper. The living ghost twisted his frame to face his destination before swiftly darting off, unseen by the local guards posted on nearby rooftops.

Another servant trotted down the decorated corridor, this one carrying a dinner tray littered with the remnants of a meal, finely crafted plates and bowls carrying only tiny shreds of hay and lettuce leaf. The shadowy figure cloaked in what the natives considered an invisibility spell, slowed his breathing a fraction to re-frame from being possibly heard by the small stallion. The ghost was disgusted at the sight of a member of a society used for such trivial and pointless tasks, like some mindless drone. He growled to himself, unwittingly drawing the attention of the servant. The stallion snapped his head to the side, his ears twitching slightly from side to side trying to catch the ominous noise once more. After about twenty seconds the stallion slowly backed away, and although he eventually left, the assassin knew he was convinced he had heard something. The shadow cursed to himself for being clumsy, but he remained unidentified, and that was all that counted.

He swiveled and took to a light jog, treading carefully as to not give away any more audible giveaways. The orange display that coated his vision revealed to him that his target was not twenty feet from his position, giving him reason to remove his suppressed pistol from his thigh mounted mag-plate. He activated the weapon, a tiny whine squealing from within the pistol as the energy coils charged up. He slowed before finally reaching what appeared to be a bedroom door. It was a bright, ivory white decorated with a fine gold, gold that could be used for better purpose that a trivial decoration. This fucker just had to fucking die.

He opened the door as slowly and quietly as he could, thankfully the door was well kept and barely made a whisper of noise as it crept open. The shadow slid inside before closing the door behind him. He immediately heard a voice, a thick voice full of false character, like they were on stage or something. He crept forward, slowly, towards her.

"It's simply a disaster. A disaster!" Sapphire Shore announced to the strange gadget at the side of her head.

"No of course not....No.....Well no one saw me at the exchange, but you know those freaky things are always watching everypony! I swear, it's only a matter of time before one of those freaks come 'a' knockin' on my door!"

Sapphire made a sharp one-eighty turn as something creaked behind her, a small metallic shriek coming from the gathering of items she had arranged as part of her move. Her eyes darted about trying to find what had alerted her, trying to catch sight of some alien device that she was convinced would soon visit her for reasons not in her favor.

The mirror. It was just the mirror.

Sapphire relaxed slightly and returned her attention back to the alien phone and the worried contact she was talking to.

"No honey I'm fine, just a little spooked by all this.......No, it was just two sacks of bits, but mostly books and such......Exactly, I thought her majesty would want most of them for safe keeping.......Oh I'm sorry honey, haven't got an eye on that yet. I'm sure it's out there somewhere, I mean, no way the pastes' have gotten their mitts on it yet. I'll keep an eye out, I promise."

A sudden sound caused Sapphire to flinch and grow anxious again.

"L-look sweety, I better get going. I'll get packed up and meet you in two days.....yes, Friday.......I'll meet you in Ponyville at 8pm then.....Ok, that's perfect. Sensational, see you then."

Sapphire fumbled for a second, struggling to remember which flashing picture to press to turn off the device.

"Ugh, why would those pasty things even give me this stupid gizmo?" Sapphire asked herself under her breath.

"So we can always see you."

A deafening noise rang through the air as Sapphires vision flashed a hot white, her head snapping back all of a sudden. Her neck went limp, as if she'd grown unspeakably tired all of a sudden. Something warm flared up in her throat and begun to spread down her body. Her head fell forward and towards her chest, presenting her the sight of a dark red fluid gushing down her chest and between her cleavage. Her pearly-white stage dress was developing ugly red stains wherever the fluid struck and soaked in. Her body grew numb, lifeless and beyond her control, leading her knees to fold and her arms to fall to her side. On her knees she saw her tights also being assaulted by the angry crimson fluid, soon followed by the rug on which she knelt.

Her vision began to blur and sway as if her eyes were turning to water. A breath she felt she had held for a day and a half escaped her lungs in a drawn out cough, throwing more crimson before her in the form of tiny ruby speckles that hit the floor in a gory shower. Sapphire grew so very tired, so tired so quickly, and began to let her care that something was terribly wrong slip away. She fell to the floor in a very ungraceful way only to flop lazily onto her back. Her vision continued to close the curtains on the reality around her until something began to tear its way into sight, shifting light around its dark frame until it completely shed its disguise to be seen as the creature it truly was.

Sapphires eyes regained focus, she began to panic, the fear injecting her with several seconds of extra life. Her face shifted from it's spaced out state to an expression of cold fear. The dark, alien assassin loomed over her, it's existence radiating a terrible coldness, presenting only a vacuum in which all good things were drawn to and utterly extinguished. It's eyes were not its own, but instead sinister, ever-judging lenses that burnt with a sharp red light, seeming to reflect a simple, primal desire to murder that it held under it's layers of chilling darkness. It simply stood over the helpless mare it had just shot, it's hellish weapon still gripped within its hand, a black item with a box-like frame that extended into a long cylinder. Although Sapphire had little to go on in reading the creatures expression, she could tell how it hated her, it despised what she had stood for and what she was holding on to.

Sapphire had never hated anypony before, in fact she took a great pride in expressing a very radiant and buoyant personality that had always seemed to reflect into others. She had always enjoyed being happy and seeing others happy around her. But what did such childish things mean to these pasty murderers, these interlopers from the sky. Happiness had been debunked with the idea of technology, healthcare and a stupid tax system. Ponies had forgotten what it was to be happy, they had learnt to grow resentfull, to express hate and how to seize power.

Now Sapphire knew what it was to hate.

She hated them.

All of them.

She hoped her contact would not wait for her, and would find a way to bring back the Equestria she had loved. The Equestria everypony had loved. There just had to be a way. They've got to find a way.

Sapphire found her sight begin to escape her once more, and the pain of hatred began to flow from her mind. But not quickly enough. She tried to speak, but her throat was no longer at her command, it pained her to even open her mouth. She decided to finish this in the best way she could, it was far from fair, but it was something.

Some day, someone bigger and scarier than you will find you. They'll push you around, hurt you and tell you what to do...

Sapphire thought with every corner of her mind, she stretched the thought as wide and as loud as she could.

...You will loose everything that you knew, everything that made you feel safe. They'll kill your friends and burn your homes, they'll write your laws and they'll teach your children to forget their history, they'll turn your science to junk and they'll make you feel like children. And when it's all done, when you're on your knees wondering where it all went, you'll remember us. You'll remember all of us and know how we felt.

A tear fell from her eye, falling down her cheek and down from her face with a ghostly grace.

Damn you. Damn you for what you've done to us.

The world grew dark.

Another economic usurper bites the dust.

Oxide gave a huff of amusement at how well he'd finished the mission. Gave the stupid lady just enough time to think about what she was before she bled out. Not that it mattered, wasn't like she was in a 'better place' or anything. It was kind of funny how the girl had hoarded all this worthless junk; dresses, jewelry, trinkets and such. And she had thought to take it all with her in her 'escape'? How pitiful.

Oxide grew tired of thinking about all this and gave a deep yawn to insult the situation ever more. Not that he cared.

The assassin turned and casually walked out the way he had entered.

"And what, the bitch just lay there crying?" Asked Bandit as he slid the last two rounds into his revolver.

"Yep, probably realized she'd wasted her life on pointless crap rather than actually making something of herself." Oxide replied in a huff.

"Command, we're done here. Send us a VTOL beyond the city limits and we'll meet it there in twenty." Frostbite droned over the radio in his headset.

"Anyone else see you?" Bandit asked.

"Nah, just Shores. Can't imagine she'll be speaking any time soon though."

Bandit chuckled, his balaclava distorting his voice into a synthetic rasp.

"Shoulda' tapped some shoulders on the way out. Easier to drop these fuckers when they're good and scared shitless."

"Language, please." Piped up Archer, drawing his attention away from his sniper rifles scope as he scanned the city.

"Freedom of speech, dickhead." Murmured Oxide.

Archer gave a sigh before standing up to wander over to the edge of the rooftop. He knelt and brought his rifle up again to peer down upon the streets.

"How was your visit to that Hoity idiot?" Inquired Oxide to Bandit who gave his revolver a quick twirl before clicking it in place upon his leg mounted magnetic plate.

"Heh, had a good hour of chasing him around that mansion before he started screaming at shadows. He was fun." Bandit replied with satisfaction.

"So the reason we have been up here waiting for fucking ages is that you wanted to play with your prey? Nice, thanks a fucking lot for wasting our time." Oxide said, his fists shaking with agitation.

"Hey, I wanted to get our point across; Steal from the people, and I put a bullet in your gut," Bandit shrugged, "How was Fleur, Frostbite?"

"Bitch tried to stab me with a letter opener. Didn't do her much good. Funny how she still looked pretty with a hole in her head." Droned the squad leader in a deadpan manner.

"Hah, a letter opener?!" Bandit started cracking up with laughter along with Oxide.

"These fuckers are so stupid. Like they could hurt us." Oxide said with a sneer.

"Kinda cool being on an op were you're practically invisible. Red Storm is gonna go be wrapped up by the end of the week at this rate." Added Bandit.

"Celestia's still pacing in her room. I guess she'll fold in the next couple days." Archer announced as he kept his scope fixed upon a window of the royal palace.

"I wish I could just kill that bitch." Oxide said with poison in his words.

"Hey, it'll be fun watching the people she's dictated for a fucking millennia tear her apart. That's when we know our work is done here. These people get to finally make technological progress and are free from the rule of some silly little princess." said Frostbite.

"And they can put and end to this dumb-ass fairy-tale society they've been stuck in. Oh, Oxide, you heard about our 'Best seller'?" Asked the sniper.

"Fuck yeah! Half the people who bought it demanded a refund? What a joke. Not my fault these people have a problem with the truth. They should thank me for putting that rebel out of her misery."

"I can't say I blame them, we did publish her last book detailing her death. But hey, can't say it wasn't effective at subduing a portion of the population." Archer replied.

"Huh, those Daring Do books where dumb anyway, we made a fucking masterpiece compared to her usual shit." Oxide growled, crossing his arms.

"Sent a copy to Rainbow Dashs' house via a drone. Wonder if she enjoyed it?" Frostbite asked himself, gaining a chorus of laughs from Oxide and Bandit.

The squad had taken much pride in their work on Epona. Perhaps it was because it was the way the planet gave a person the feeling of being slightly detached from reality, perhaps it was also because every operation had been so easy. But among every assassination and every intervention, Reaper Squad had taken a great amount of joy in completing Daring Dos' last ever book; the one where they kill her. It did a wonderful job of shaking the fog of fantasy from the natives minds, along with discouraging anyone who felt they could attempt any heroics against the UTF.

"Came damn close to clipping her wings a while back. Maybe I'll get another chance if she ever decides to show her face again." Bandit said with a grin.

"It was effective enough. The Elements are destroyed and there bearers are so broken I doubt they'll leave their own homes." Said Frostbite.

"Well, all but one." Added Archer.

"Oh right, Miss 'Can't Take a Hint' herself. Fucking redneck bitch." Growled Bandit.

"Why haven't we been ordered to take her out? Surely she's in the top five on our hit-list?" Asked Archer.

"She was, but it seems Dragovichs' hound wants to sink his teeth into something. He's been given charge of all Ponyvilles armed forces, and has Applejack on his to-do list." Frostbite replied, wandering over the rooftop to look over to Ponyville.

"Guess some people just want all the fun to themselves." Huffed Oxide.

"Dunno about you guys, but I'm having plenty fun." Shrugged Bandit who leaned back against a chimney.

"I fail to see how." Murmured Archer.

"Hey, not my fault I don't feel guilty when I see someones head explode. It's not as though I like having my condition, but I'm sure as fuck not going to let it get to me. Might as well enjoy myself when I can." Bandit ranted, tensing up.

"Exactly, might as well have fun taking out the trash." Oxide added.

Being a part of the 23rd meant having a mental deficiency condition known as 23-PC, an imbalance of the chemical makeup of the Prefrontal Cortex. It afflicted the individual with the inability to feel guilt, remorse or any kind and would lead to eventual psychotic behavior without proper conditioning. But rather than subdue they afflicted, the UTF saw a very promising use for a people that could feel no remorse. Nearly every 23-PC patient had chosen to join the 23rd subdivision of the military, leading to a total of 100 members so far. Each was an assassin of high caliber, equipped with state of the art tech that kept them unseen and well protected, armed with powerful weapons. Yet there was something unruly and hostile that lingered within the members of the 23rd, making them highly unfitting for any operation outside of killing someone. Public appearance was unheard of outside crowd control, and converse with outsiders was isolated to intense interrogation.

This behavior reflected across the UTF military in a milder way, but every many members had pretty hot blood. Police brutality, excessive force and overkill was commonplace. It was essentially an army of brawlers with a fat ego, and it was exactly what the UTF needed. It kept people in there place, discouraged rebellion and held respect through fear firmly in the minds of citizens. Yet, Equestria wasn't exactly comfortable with this approach.

"If you ask me, I can see why that girl is pissed. Most of her family are dead." Archer piped up.

"That's why no one asked you. We've given her plenty of chances to stop bitching about that crap. Plus, her family brought it on herself, Appleoosa got exactly what it deserved." Countered Bandit.

"It was the most efficient way to subdue the population. Just so happens that the only way to do that was to kill off the population." Frostbite stated.

"Doesn't matter now, it's just about securing assets in the loyal cities and salvaging what we can from the digressive ones. Who's next on the list?" Asked Archer.

Frostbite typed on his wrist computer in a quick series of rattling taps.

"Looks like we're down to pay everyone's favorite girls a visit. Mission is to collect vital info at a meeting they are holding in two days. Then the next day we take the first one out, then another one every day after. Says it doesn't matter which one we take out first, as long as we leave the redneck for Lambert. Any takers?"

"I vote we put Dash out of her misery." Said Bandit.

"I dunno, that pink one seems to know when trouble's about, I say we start with her so our cover doesn't get blown." Oxide added.

"I second Dash....about time she rested up." Said Archer.

"Plus we may not see her outside her house if we wait. I vote we follow her out the meeting point and take her out somewhere quiet." Frostbite said as he dropped his wrist computer away from him.

"It's decided then?" Bandit perked up.

"I really hate the pink one." Deadpanned Oxide.

"Fine, we'll do Dash and then Pinkie the day after. Happy now?" Frostbite asked in frustration.

"I'm not unhappy" Shrugged Oxide.

A small speck of light grew in size and began to trail off to the side of Canterlot. As it grew close against the night sky the members of Reaper squad could make out the avian shape of a VTOL that descended to land beyond Canterlots borders.

"Ride's here. Reaper squad, move out."

The assassins turned and took off towards the ship, their cloaking devices engulfing their bodies and turning them to ghosts once again.

4 - Desperate times

The night had grown quite cold, the wind picking up to a violent series of gusts. Another burst of wind blew her cloak away from her, dragging it behind her as if it had escape in mind. With a forceful tug shed brought the wild clothe to heel and wrapped it around herself once again, turning a shoulder to the icy force that assaulted her. Her destination was well within sight, yet it felt a mile away with the elements fighting against her. She couldn't help but travel at a simple step-by-step speed in a desperate struggle to get to shelter. Ponyville streets where deserted, everypony taking to the refuge of their homes. Shops that had once been the talk of the town where now boarded up and closed for 'redevelopment'. Further down the street she could see an alien checkpoint set up, a handful of guards stationed there along with an armored transport. Only now with a clear view and the moonlight gracing the air could she now make out the two alien guards strolling down the street, headed right for her.

This was reason enough to pick up the pace, icy gales or no. Her steps quickened until she picked her speed up to a trot, closing the distance between herself and the tree-made-library. She reached the  library door and gave three very ungraceful and desperate knocks. The candle upon the doors exterior had blown out in the turbulent winds, offering only the darkened red of Golden Oak Library door for the eternity it took its occupants to answer. Soon enough the door rattled and clicked as a series of locks were disengaged, the door finally opening to offer it's welcoming warm glow it had held within.

"Come in, quick!" Said a panicked voice inside.

The cloaked figure swept herself through the door as quick as lighting, breathing a sigh of relief as the indoors folded her within it's safety.

"Thank you so much for coming. Where are the others?" Asked twilight, the small alicorns body language harshly reflecting her anxiety.

Cadence threw her cloak off her shoulders to swing it to her front and fold over her arm. Beneath, her turquoise dress was what would be considered casual to equestrians. She lacked her crown and collar, her hair tied in a simple ponytail with a blue band.

"No pony else is coming, Twilight. I'm sorry, but it's just me." Cadence said with words as heavy as anvils.

"No one? I thought everypony you had contacted agreed to meet us?" Rarity asked in a shrill tone.

"They did. Things are....things are really bad back at Canterlot." Cadence said as she wandered over to the far side of the library to take a seat upon the stairs next to Rarity.

"W-what do you mean?....They're not....."

"I'm sorry Rarity. We've had five murders in the last two days. It would seem they were tracking their victims through the phones they'd given us. I threw mine out the day after I heard about Sapphire Shores."

Rarity let her head fall into her hands as grief gripped her. Some of her closest friends outside the elements had been Canterlot nobles, and now they'd been slaughtered like animals. Tears fell from her eyes, stretching her makeup down her cheeks, but she let out no sobs or sniffles. Rarity threw her head back and cleared her face of her hair that had lost a fair portion of its glamour over the last few months. She took a deep breath in and huffed it out again.

"Well then, we'd best make sure to make every second of this meeting count. Who are we waiting on?" Rarity asked with an almost military solidity.

Twilight hesitated a second, taken aback by Raritys' composure before sputtering a response.

"Um, well I think it's just Applejack now. Rainbow and Pinkie are upstairs."

"I can go get them, if you'd like?" Fluttershy offered, Cadence only noticing her presence upon hearing her.

"That'd be great, AJ won't be long, I'm sure." Twilight assured as she walked to a nearby window, staring out it in deep thought.

Fluttershy quickly trotted upstairs to fetch her friends. Cadence noticed how a few books had been pulled out for studying, but the majority of the library was well kept.

"Looks like you've been keeping tidy, Twilight?"

"Oh, yeah. Every other day I have a couple soldiers come into the library. Six months ago one got tetchy after finding a book open on the vanquishing spells page, so I have to keep everything stored away so they can't pick up on anything." She replied lazily as her focus was still on outside.

"Any big finds so far?"

"Not yet. We could throw a ton and a half of hit-spells and missile-glyphs at a single soldier and knock him out for a couple hours, that or put a spear in everyponys' hands and get physical with them. But we all know how that ends."

"So our choices are either bow down or die?" Cadence asked in desperation.

"Heh, there's always prayer." Twilight said ironically as she ran her fingers over the Liber Rosetta.

"I don't think there's anything Rosetta can do to help us, if she could I'm sure she would have done it by now." Cadence said, putting an arm over Raritys' shoulder, seeing how she was beginning to get lost in dark thought.

"Well, you know what they say; 'She always has a plan'." Twilight half-murmured.

Hoof-steps came from the staircase as three ponies descended into the main hall. The first was Fluttershy, who appeared as she always had, wearing her usual forest green sweater and jeans. Next was Pinkie Pie, who descended with a slight limp, one she would never admit to having not been a mistake, but in fact and affliction. She wore a surprisingly sensible outfit, a ink hoodie and loose sports trousers. Finally Dash followed the others, slowly, sheepishly, utterly devoid of the confidence and fire she had once had. Her eyes were sunken and dark, her mane an un-kept, dirty mess, her coat was equally as in a state and her body language was that of a mare broken. Her jacket and sports vest looked as if they'd gone unwashed for a month, along with her tight-fit shorts. Pinkie waited for her at the bottom of the stairs, beckoning her down with her welcoming grin. The blue pegasus made it to the bottom and sat down on a stool Fluttershy had pulled from a closet. Her facial expression remained near blank, limp with a hint of fear.

"Where is Applejack?! This is totally going down as a sad face on her 'dependable chart'." Pinkie squeaked in her bubbly voice.

"I'm sure she won't be long. She promised. And I know for sure she has more reason than most to come to this meeting." Twilight replied.

Not ten seconds later a strong, striking knock came from the door, seeing everyponys' ears perk up in response. Twilight rushed to the door and carefully pulled it open. Before Twilight could say another word in stepped the largest figure to be in the library that day. Though not quite as tall as Twilight or Cadence, Applejack came very close, standing a full 6' 2". Yet this was hardly noticeable when considering the farm ponies figure. Where Twilight and Rarity were petite, Fluttershy, Cadence and Pinkie were curvy and Rainbow was athletic, Applejack was just plain huge in comparison. Generations of breeding sturdy, strong farmers had resulted in AJ growing into quite the work horse, her limbs wrapped in thick, un-lady-like muscle. Her shoulders were wide, her hips twice as wide, and her stomach sporting a firm bulge of muscle. In the earlier days of their friendship, AJ was a gentle giant of sorts, using her strength only to kick the living hell out of trees in harvesting apples and haul about her farms hardware. Yet now she was using her physical prowess to see her works of sabotage and ruin accomplished. Her left thigh was wrapped in a bandage that was soaked with old blood, appearing as a brown stain among the yellow of the dirty bandages. The base of the top of her muzzle had a small plaster taped on, and her clothes were torn and dirty including her token family stetson that appeared to have a bullet hole to the right of its front peak. She held herself with a vicious strength, almost as if ready to pounce on one of her own friends and strangle them to death. Her eyes were wide with a consistent anger and her jaw was clenched.

"Sorry I'm late. Got held up by some pasties that decided tah have a chat outside the ally I was hiding in." She said in a harsh tone. Her work vest, shirt, scarf and denim shorts were all soaked through, yet it seemed the orange mare didn't care for such a discomfort if she noticed at all.

"It's no problem, AJ. We haven't been waiting long." Twilight said, but her words seem to go unnoticed by AJ, who had already started marching over to Cadence.

"Princess, what's happ'nin' in Canterlot? I hear there was some kinda accident?"

"There has been no accident. The UTF seems to activated some kind of assassin team to kill nobles. There's been no witnesses, but the troops in the city seem to be making little to no effort to hide the fact they are involved." Cadence replied, AJ growing tense as she spoke.

Applejacks' muscled tensed and strained with anger, her face twisting to something quite primal. She turned slowly before bringing both her clenched fists down on the central table like hammers, a noticeable crack bursting across its surface. The others simply stood in an awkward silence, besides Dash who simply sat, appearing as though she was somehow cold.

"Those.....Mutha.....Buckin'.....Pastes! Those buckin' freaks!" Exploded AJ, the muscles in her face and neck throbbing with hate.

"Please, Calm down, Applejack." Pleaded Cadence.

"How can ah Princess?! Am ah the only one here who sees what's happ'nin' here?! They're killin' us! They're killin' us and everypony's just ignorin' it, like it'll go away!"

"We know! We know, AJ. That's why we're here though, right?" Twilight assured, putting her fair hand on AJs' shoulder warily.

"Why we're here.....Yeh.....why we're here....." Applejack murmured between her deep breathes, trying to starve the inferno that was burning in her mind.

"Yes, why we're all here. We'll find a way to sort this all out. Right, first thing's first; have you got it, Cadence?" Twilight asked.

Cadence reached into her cloak and removed a great weight located at the lower back of its inside. From the cloak she pulled a large crystal item, a sky blue crystal crafted into the shape of a heart.

"Right here." Cadence said with a grin of satisfaction.

"Great, Fluttershy?"

Fluttershy pulled from her pocket a necklace forged from a dark metal and a crimson stone at its centre beneath steel cut into the head of an alicorn.

"I was surprised at how easy it was to get this off Zecora, she practically threw it at me." Fluttershy stated.

"I'm not surprised at all." AJ growled.

"How about you AJ?" Twilight inquired.

"Five days, eight kilometers deep in Everfree across fourteen kilometers of it's width and nothing but the same piles of ash and dead trees. Pasties did a real number on that place."

"This is bad. If we've lost the Tree of Harmony, any magical threats that arise against us in the future could prove a real problem to deal with." Twilight said with a great deal of worry.

"Oh don't you worry, Twilight. I'm sure our pasty friends will just point a real big gun at it and blow it off the face off the planet. Just hope you don't miss that particular part of the planet they blow up." Applejack said through gritted teeth.

"Well, um, they haven't blown us up." Peeped Fluttershy.

"Yet." Shot back Applejack, seeming to afflict the pegasus with physical discomfort with her sharp word.

"A risk we cannot afford to take. So, what are our options?" Cadence added.

"Well the Crystal Heart emanates a magical aura, one that reflects the feelings of those it is surrounded by. That probably explains why it doesn't look so good," Twilight noted staring worried at the crystal relic that was missing it's magical radiance it once had, "So the idea is to essentially 'power it up'. If we can do that and recreate a beacon that broadens the Hearts effects like the crystal palace does, we could establish a stronghold. Though probably not for long, I can imagine the UTF will act immediately to put an end to our resistance."

"So basically, we're out of luck?" Rarity asked.

"Perhaps not. If we can bring up a defense for even just a few minutes, we could find a way to reactivate the Zebras magical field that kept the star-ships from landing troops when they first arrived." Twilight said in an upbeat manner.

"Just gotta make sure we have enough time to get the field up, and then we have to consider the troops that are already on the planet." AJ added in a gruff tone.

"I know, and funnily enough, that's the hard part. I've run some numbers together and found that we outnumber the UTF forces at eleven point six to one, meaning that we could, and I emphasize could have them beat. This would require absolute commitment from everypony involved, that's the military and every able bodied mare and stallion we have in every loyalist town and city. It won't be pretty, but we could do it." Twilight finished, everypony in the room seemingly having their spirits lifted slightly. All except one.

"What about...them?" Dash rasped, her voice weak and quiet.

The room turned to look at the frail pegasus, who kept her eyes fixed on the floor before her, her arms wrapped about herself so tight one would think she was in the middle of a blizzard.

"Look, Rainbow Dash, we already have enough to worry about considering all thing we know. We can't keep jumping at every shadow just because-" Twilight began to rant.

"I saw it, okay?! It was standing right over me!" Dash hissed through clenched teeth.

"I know what you think you saw, but you were in a panic, it was chaos. You probably just had a close encounter with one of the usual cronies we see every day."

"It wasn't like the others!....It was...taller.....and darker. It came out of nowhere, put me on the ground and pulled a bucking knife on me! I must have kicked it in the gut a dozen times and it wouldn't go down.....it just got closer....it's bucking eyes....getting closer..." Dashs' words trailed off under a flood of terror, her eyes growing wild and tight with fear.

Pinkie knelt by the pegasus and rubbed her across the back of the shoulders in an attempt to sooth her fears. Dash loosened up slightly, but began to shake uncontrollably.

"Fine, let's assume for a sec' that there are some freaky killer ghosts out there, what does that mean? That we just give up?" AJ asked in a sickeningly condescending tone.

"Yes. We hide. We dig deep ass holes, bury ourselves in them and hope they don't feel like coming after us," Dash said, her words heavy with panic, "These things could be anywhere, anytime ready to get us. They could be in our homes! They could even be in this-"

A haunting screech came from upstairs, a pained groan echoed from a dark reality to chill all it passed over. The floor upstairs gave a slow creak, the wooden straining as a weight pressed firmly down upon it. The girls downstairs tensed up and shrunk to the floor slightly. Dash scrambled across the room, as far away from the dreadful sound as possible.

"No! Don't let it get me! Don't let it get me!" Dash shrieked.

Applejack drew a chunky looking wrench from inside her shirt, giving it a trivial twirl as she brought it to bear. The mare held the metal club low behind her flank and began to slowly climb the stairs leading upstairs. Each hoof-step brought with it a tiny creak as response to Applejacks considerable weight, the long fur flowing around near her hooves brushing gently across each step as she lifted a foot. The farm-girl disappeared from sight as she rounded the coil of the staircase and continued on. Downstairs remained quiet as could possibly be, only AJs hoof-steps being heard throughout the library. A moment passed before less cautious, faster paced steps came falling down the stairs.

"Nuthin'." Applejack simply stated as she stepped back down, holstering her wrench once more. She turned to Dash lifted her arms only to let them fall at her sides again,"See, jumping at shadows. We won't stand a chance against the pasties with an attitude like that Rainbow."

"You d-didn't see-" Dash stuttered

"Ah dun' have tuh! I no our only option is to buck up, no matter what. I dun' care if these things shoot lasers from their eyes an' fart lightnin', I'mma kill 'em all the same." The orange mare turned once again and folded her arms.

The room went quiet, nopony really knowing where to take it from such an emotional point.

"Well, I can easily say I never thought I'd be considering killing another living thing. I don't know Twilight, I don't know if I could really do it when the time came. Could Equestria, come to think of it?" Rarity asked, deciding to further deepen the subject.

"We might not have a choice. We can always roll over. We can play the good little pets and beg for more treats. We can burn our books on magic and history in exchange for an easy life, and exchange our castles and palaces for the favor of a race that calls us degenerates. We can hide, and live. Or we can kill, and...well probably die. But I know I'd rather die than forget everything we once had, than let my children, and grandchildren grow up oblivious to how a world of wonder and magic existed. I'd die a thousand times over inside seeing a whole generation grow up tapping on the screens of some dumb little techy-tablet rather than turning the pages of a story book. Playing a shooter game rather than playing in a forest! Shutting themselves inside their comfy new society rather than exploring the world with no one to tell them 'That's too far' or 'You have to pay to go there' or 'We'll shoot you if you come any closer! How can we live with ourselves knowing we have doomed all Equestria to a future ruled by a system made by 'superiors'?! Will we let all these needless deaths go unnoticed?! Un-avenged?! We don't have a choice. We owe it to the past two years we've wasted being cowards to finally stand up and say 'No further'!"

The room was silent again. This time in not such a grim way, but in a way that might just see the old Equestria breath again.

"That there's the right thinkin' Twahlight! So, it's simple, we get the heart powered, we find the energy field source, we activate the heart and by enough time to through up the shield, then we step out every pasties-faced freak we can so much as smell. It's a plan!" AJ cheered with a mildly dark grin as she tipped her hat back a little.

"I'm all for it! Might as well...go out with a bang, eh?" Rarity said with a gulp.

"I.....I'll try my best, Twilight." Fluttershy added meekly.

".......We can...try." Dash said weakly, her head sunk low.

"Um, and Pinkie, what do you think? You haven't said a word this whole time." Twilight inquired.

The pink mare looked down at the leg she had been limping on for the day, running a hand over it gently as she thought a moment away.

"I say, let's do it!" Pinkie stated in a surprisingly stern manner, one that would be much more effective if not for her squeaky voice.

"Uh, really?" AJ asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Those stupid-head-meanies have strutted about this town like they own the place. Well pony muscle build this town, and I'll be darned-deed-doodly if anything but pony muscle tears it down again! Preferably not for another fifty jillion years!" Pinkie roared, her face twisted into a colorful scowl.

"That's the spirit, Pinkie!" AJ chuckled as she pulled the comparatively tiny girl into a one armed hug.

"I'll let Shining and the princesses know what we've discussed, I'm sure they'll tweak up the details as best they can. I have a feeling Luna is going to have a pretty potent appeal to all this." Cadence said through a nervous grin.

"Ah'm gonna take to the streets in the mornin' an' contact every close supporter I know. Ah'll have Derpy spread the word up in Cloudsdale." AJ announced.

"No...I'll go. The Wonderbolts know me, they'll give solid support if I give the news." Dash said as she shakily stood up again.

"If you're sure Dash. In fact, it might be an idea to keep your hooves on the clouds a while. If the Federation catches word of this plan they'll waste no time in hunting us down. I advise you all arrange safe-houses you can hold up in if things get to dangerous." Twilight sternly stated, a chorus of confirmatory nods answering her.

"Right, we leave one at a time in an hours time. We watch everypony leave and only send the next after we lose sight of the former. Run into any trouble just hide as best you can. When you lose them, come right back here."

The girls began to converse, ironing out details and tactics they have observed over the months. Every card they could play was mentioned, every move and every trick they could think of, and each one was another step towards obliteration.

"We've heard enough. Exit the premises and await further instruction, Archer." Mason said through a sigh.

"Copy that, sir." The assasin replied before cutting the comm channel to silence.

Mason lazily threw himself out of bracing against the holo-table, the orange light washing away from his pale face.

"You know what we must do now, Mason." Dragovich murmured.

"Their plan will never work." Mason droned.

"But this behavior? This rebellion? Such an atrocity has never gone unanswered before, and it won't be overlooked just because a plan won't work. These primitive race of daydreamers needs to be subdued. We've shown them there place, and still they refuse to peacefully comply!" Dragovich blurted in protest.

"I can't justify wasting resources on six girls who feel a little hard done by. The feds would have me by the throat."

"The feds...would have you throat bear a medal. You know what all this means to them, what any mistake here could mean for us all? These things are a threat. To reason, to what our way of life stands for. To think what the people would think of us if they see us waddle away from this world after letting some pretty pony princess get the best of our morality. There is no room for such things here. The colonies are watching our every move, and we must show them that we are still strong, that we will not go soft on anyone or anything just because it can shed tears. The PRM are waiting to rake in every defector that could come out of this damned mess, and that could well be enough to fuel a campaign that would cut our resources and military strength clean in half."

"I won't be part of this decision." Mason stated as he walked around Dragovich.

"But you must, Mason. Can't turn this key on my own. You know what call you have to make. For the greater good."

"You can go fuck yourself with that high-and-mighty shit!" Mason hissed, jabbing a finger as the stony face of his comrade.

"Tell me I'm wrong then."

Mason remained silent, lowering his hand slowly and tugging at the bottom of his uniform to rid it of creases.

"I will never get how you can sanctify this shit and be so god-....how you can be so happy about it." Mason didn't want to bring up any more awkward subjects into this debate, least of all being an agnostic.

"I try to make best out of a situation I have no control over." Dragovich said coldly.

"You see! You sound just like one of those shady fuckers, of whom I do not want on my ship, you understand?! You keep those fucking glorified animals locked up in you own steel, but you sure as fuck keep them well away from mine!" Mason shouted as he spun to face his rival again, turning a few heads in the bridge.

"Where you see animals, I see the perfect weapon. Nearly every usurper in the country accounted for in just a couple of days. And what have your men been doing, hm? Cutting ribbons at site openings? Kissing the babies of those damn natives you all seem to love so much? Or maybe just standing around looking shiny is enough to keep those savages gawking for long enough to see our plans advance?"

"Theo and his team are doing exactly what they need to do, and take pride in doing it. Not a whimper, not a hint of complaint from any of them. And exactly how many times have your ghouls called today squealing to fulfill their blood-lust? How many times have they yapped at you like happy puppies after they've just gutted someone? Someone with a fucking family?!"

"Something, Mason. These things are not people. They don't think like you or me. Understand this now General, those natives are as different to you as are the horses back on Earth." Dragovich calmly lectured, putting his hands gently on Masons' shoulders, giving them a small shake before releasing him again.

Dragovich gave a synthetic smile before turning to wander back to the Holo-table.

"Ponies," Mason tugged at his uniform once more, "They're ponies."

"Got it, sir. It'll be a pleasure." Scarecrow droned over his mic.

"Ops a go?" Archer asked as he climbed up to the rooftop his squad had nested upon.

"Sure is. Bandit, you want to finish what you started?" Scarecrow asked, cocking his carbines' mag-charge.

"Oh, this is gonna be fun." Bandit grinned in anticipation, drawing his combat knife from its sheath.

"Try not to take so long this time." Oxide growled.

The squad got there gear ready, yet seconds before they were ready to get to work a wave of voices came through the communications, a pre-recorded warning message reserved for when ground forces where required to take defensive positions prior to an aggressor fleets incursion. Muffled under the announcement came the stern announcements of the fleets captains and commanders broadcasting on a wide-set channel, ordering all hands to take to there battle stations. Finally, clear as could be heard, came the voice of General Mason.

"All Federation forces, the is General Mason. Initiate responsive measures Sierra through Alpha, we have incoming. I repeat, we have incoming."

5 - Skies of death

Teeth.

A sickening cascade of bone made to razors.

Snapping, drooling, squealing and spitting it's protest forth at whatever was keeping it from its next meal, no matter if be space, time or the iron grip of an Astarte.

A metallic shriek tor through the air joined alongside a chorus of ravenous growls, the angry roar of a death-machines' belly.

A metallic length assaulted the mass of teeth, smashing tooth and jaw upon its abrupt entrance. The mouth that had seemingly burst straight from hell went on oblivious of its sorely wounds jaw, snapping hard down on the shaft of steel.

The shrieking of the machine climbed in pitch until its became all but deafening, it's own hunger bursting from its discipline in a shower of bone and blood. Bright blue gore and giblets spattered in all directions as the machine bit through the ravenous mouth with sickening ease, the monstrosities teeth clenching hard down upon the furious machine in a helpless reaction of its own body. The machine finally tor through the beasts empty mind and dispelled the hunger that it had been gripped by. The jaw fell open, limp, as the machine withdrew from its intrusion. An armored hand gripping the side of the monsters head forced it and its lifeless body off his own metallic mass.

Wasting no time nor thought the Astarte drew out his sidearm, an instrument of a thousand fires fiercer than the belly of the brightest star. Leveling his weapon the Astartes began his swift advance, heavy boots smashing relentlessly against the cold, metal floor. His next target had closed its distance well, but not well enough as its hideous visage came to the touch with his pistols barrel. A blaze of brilliant white turning blue escaped the weapons maw as instantly as it escaped the back of its targets' head. The alien skull was carved out into a charred, hollow bowl, its chitinous body smashing into the Astartes shoulder pauldron before spinning off to land in a messy heap on the floor.

Flashes of angry fire rang about the marine, his beloved brothers in arms coughing death at the chattering teeth of invaders. Their comparatively feeble bodies came apart in a shower of broken bone and mangled meats, organs turned to slurry as brain spattered the deck of their vessels bridge. The blast doors were bent out and torn at the edges, thick ceramite shattered and broken in ungraceful ways as masses of alien beasts clambered through the ships wound. Bolter rounds and plasma fire saw the tide stemmed for a while, but opportunity was running thinner with every heartbeat.

"Henatrex, move your flamer up! Belston, ready yourself behind your brother! Push them back!" Captain Viktur roared, not with the means to intimidate, but to reach his voice over the hurricane that was shrieking, screaming and scratching around them.

The marines took their advance one step at a time, shuffling forwards with greatest of cautions. A blade of iron-hard bone shot right for Brother Jevlos' face, the auto-reactive pauldron being all that saved his from its murderous intent. Jevlo shook off the blow as it cut inches deep into his armour, leaving a jagged gash in the ceramic plate. Caravek took a harsh blow to the lower leg, bringing him to one knee and leaving him face to face with the next alien to pass him. The hound-sized creature threw itself at him in a tackle, taking him to the floor to pin him down with its several sets of clawed limbs. Jericho broke formation and threw his bolters fire at the alien, seeing it burst apart in an instant. The Captain could relate to his brothers need to aid his fellow marine, but such diligence would have to be reported to the company chaplain as soon as this mess had been sorted out. Caravek gave his hearty thanks to his brother as they continued their push forward.

Henatrex reached effective firing range, his armour torn but whole. He raised his heavy flamer and washed the breach with its sacred fire. White hot flame fed by thick fluid compounds fell over the squealing creatures, who popped apart or merely disintegrated at the fires' touch. The fire danced and leaped through the stale air of the ships interior as an ethereal display, a ballet of hot colors throwing themselves about in excited and exaggerated ways with each belch the flamer made.

"Squad Eutinar, we have them pushed back to the corridor, make your advance back to the breach." Viktur barked over his suits radio.

"Acknowledged. Once we get to the breach point, I estimate no more than 5 minutes of  before resistance becomes to fierce repel." Sergeant Eutinar growled in response, his voice bearing a small static distortion.

"Hellmaw, tell me you're close!" Viktur called in desperation to his ally ship.

"ETA to payload impact, two minutes, sire!" Sergeant Pinichos called back.

"Captain, the substructure is already beginning to buckle. We cut that Hull Leech free and it could take half the ships skeleton with it." Sergeant Ivanhar added, his voice somber.

"We have run out of choices. Let these beasts chew away at us from the inside of risk a dire wound from the boarding crafts death-throws." Viktur replied, the weight of his decision putting pressure on his expression.

"I understand, sir. What of the relic?"

"It remains our priority. At what strength are we?"

"We remain as yourself, ten sternguard included myself, five novice initiates and twenty battle brothers. I fear a number of our fallen may well have been taken into the belly of that behemoth."

"And pay penance for our weakness in not seeing them home will be payed for. Yet the relic remains, and we shall guard it unto the last of us draws his final breath," The captain took a deep breath in and closed his eyes a moment, clearing his thoughts of the need to save his brethren, to see them safe, "Hear ye, all brethren! All forces make haste to the cargo hold and fortify vault fourteen. Guard the relic from all and any harm, for the chapters honour."

The carnage of battle swam from the captains mind, taking a back-seat to all he took in around himself. He dropped his hand away from his throat mic and wandered over to the observation window of his frigates bridge. The void of space had never before been such a dazzling display of violence and chaos to his eyes, and his eyes had seen much over his three and a half centuries of life. The Denti, a race of monstrous horrors that slumbered beneath the crust of oblivious worlds, swarmed through space like a tidal wave of alien flesh, bone, claw and teeth. Imperial ships had lost all formation, even the number of Astarte ships that remained faced odd angles and flew in desperate patterns in the inky darkness. Auxiliary ships of the Imperial Army were like lambs to the slaughter, the relatively small craft being tackled and gnawed apart by the hundreds of Denti predator-craft, the living ships hitting them at frightening speed before burrowing into their hulls like maggots to a corpse. Long range vox was a choir of agonized screams and desperate cries for aid to a backing of alien shrieks. The planet below, once a vastly populated trade world of Terivakas VII burst apart. Whole continents ruptured and split to release a tide of hundreds of thousands, a tide of terrors gripped of an impossible hunger and unfathomable violence. Magma followed them out, appearing as the blood and innards of the world itself were being torn free as a dozen parasites chewed their way free of its life-bearing flesh.

"Ships crew....initiate emergency warp transit. Get us out of here, we cannot save this world." Viktur ordered, but his voice lacked its usual authority, lacked all solidity and confidence. In truth, he was on the edge of tears.

"At once, Captain. May *he** preserve us*." The serf replied.

He is not meant to preserve us. He is meant to preserve them...through us.

The Sacrificors, successors of the Word Bearers chapter, had failed their task at seeing Terivakas VII settled of its sudden turmoil and returned to a stable state. The world had been a hub for species and empires far and wide, almost all the way back to the Sol sector of the galaxy. the planet had been unexpectedly gripped by a disturbing series of dire acts, acts of such deep and perplexing fear that one would think all forty billion of the population were foreseeing a future of terrible doom and despair. At first it would seem that such an attitude could be due to Imperial negligence, not a single ship of mankind having touched upon its surface in over four hundred years. Yet this trade world had never shown any escalation of disturbance, nor any past problems on any note. The truth had first burst from the earth not three days ago.

The dread that had gripped the planet had not been of meer coincidence, but of a terrible design, a 'white noise' being flooded into the Warp and into the minds of the mortals living upon this infected world. The five hundred, half-company of Sacrificors sent to the planet had been no match for the billions of Denti crawling out from right beneath them, and certainly not the six hundred thousand army troops. The Denti where beatable, sometimes even easily so but upon their birthing-world they were simply far to many, far too ravenous and so much of a surprise that defenses nearly always were pushed back into orbit at the very least.

"Gellar field have made their emergency charge, Captain. We initiate final jump sequence on your mark." The engine serf announced.

"Brothers, it sees me weep to turn my back on your hour of need. My heart is rent at seeing my vessel deny honour in battle. And so, we seek a different honour in safeguarding our prize. I swear upon Terras' own soil, I will return to you with repayment for my sins this day!" The captains words went out through the vox channel to his fellow craft soaked in his own hot tears, his disgrace too much for his feeble body to bare.

"Go forth, Brother! Bring us glory in another time!"

"His light preserve you efforts, Captain."

"Do not disappoint us, Viktur. From his table we shall watch you."

The replies, both warm and sour did nothing to sway the captains soul, nothing to ease his agony as the bright gleam of his frigate savior sped towards him. From the Firestorms' nose came a bright light of brilliant white that faded to blue for a fraction of a second before dying out completely, the beam passing to the left of Vikturs own Gladius frigate. The alien parasite craft tensed a moment as the lance cut through its massive body before it simply fell off the outer hull, floating away into the cold of space. The Firestorm frigate passed the Gladius, taking a fair time to do so as it was easily twice the size of Vikturs' escort ship.

"Mark." Viktur ordered weakly.

The frigate shook as its broken form failed to be carried into unreality with ease as its unblemished design would have it do. A whirlwind of crimson, violet and dark light opened up before the Imperial craft like a hungry maw, a sight Viktur had grown tired of seeing this day. The captain turned, his head hung in humble regret as he marched to the cargo bay, followed by his sternguard brethren as the storm of color engulfed his ship.

The cargo bay remained silent for the most part, yet a silence viciously broken by the violent squeal of tortured metal and choked machinery as the Gladius frigate was slapped about by turbulent warp-tides. Each rippling wave of unreal energy sheering away at the hull of the already wounded ship. Astarte, both novice and veteran where hold up in tight defensive positions about the prized cargo bay vault, before a colossal armored blast door of lifeless grey metal. Within was an unassuming item, nothing more than a worthless, rotten trinket to all but the well learned in Imperial history. A shred of thick, tough yet gentle fabric that composed most Astarte war banners. The fabric was filthy, ridden with spoil and age, a piece no larger than a table cloth. It was the lower right corner of a Word Bearers banner, one as old as the founding chapter itself, and upon it was written the word 'Redempta'.

The relic keepers of the Sacrificors had studied the piece for no longer than a minute before falling to their knees in their sudden revelation. The piece was the final found piece of the Word bearers fifth company banner, the banner that had marched through the same warp storm their primarch, Lorgar, had strode to begin his 'pilgrimage' into the unkown. The fifth had sought to recall their primarch after a series of Orc and Dracta assaults had closed deep into Imperial territory, straight towards their home world of Colchis. But the desperate act had been in vain, for dark powers had called the primarch into the fires of hell itself, and they did not wish him to be followed. The Emperor of mankind was next to intervene, choosing not to lead the defenders of Colchis himself, but instead seek out his lost son. The Emperor lead the struggling fifth company of Word Bearers into the diminishing and heavily defended warp storm, but eventually made it through the hellish portal just in time. What events transpired within have been given many various tales and songs, but what is known is that father and son returned once more as bonded pair after their recent feudal misunderstanding, an event leading to the start of the Days of Defiance. Yet what had not returned from that dreaded realm was the cloth of the fifths' banner, a minor disgrace considering the events of those dire days, but a disgrace all the same.

Since then, two thousand, three hundred and forty eight years later, many pieces of the lost banner had been returned to the founding chapter, all say for one. One that sat within a stasis cell, locked safe within the thick adamantium walls of the frigates' vault. To the eyes of the ignorant mortal such a thing was worthless, but to every marine within this broken crafts belly it was worth more than their entire chapter.

"Foolery, I say. The relic is no safer tumbling through this damned reality than it is in real-space. The founders would damn our rotten souls for ten thousand lifetimes should the banner perish with us upon this wreck." A marine growled, the haunting yellow of his helmet lenses fixed downrange of his bolters iron-sights.

"T'would be as if we'd torn it up in their faces and pissed on what was left. Yet I have a feeling I'd prefer to take personal responsibility for the loss of the relic rather than see it disappear down the throat of one of those blasted abominations." Added another.

"Not as if we can hit the brakes and turn around. May the more heavenly fates see us to a haven sooner than a hell." Another called out from the upper ramparts of the cargo bay walls.

"Here here! If not us, then at least the legacy we guard!"

A chorus of approvals and relevant scripture were given in reply, the warriors of deep red and stony pale paying their devotion vocal emission.

"What of you, initiates? What would you pray for in this uncertain hour?" Called the battle-ready brother marine.

Below the scouts had been scattered about the hangar, atop cargo crates, loading cranes and perched within observation decks. They remained of a more steely composure, wound tighter than their superiors.

"Well lads, to what do you have to say to your better?" The scout veteran sergeant called out to his trainees.

"I would pray for a clear heading, sir. To have us and our package see reality once again." Yerick replied, a lad of fierce, short, bright blonde so much like sunlight trapped in the fabric of his flesh, his skin a deeper tan and dark freckles.

"I would pray for the destiny of the relic be set, to have fate deliver it to the hands of the beloved Lorgar, bless his divine name." Kendrix said after, the words of the dark haired boy, bearing also a healthy tone of flesh, ringing low with humbleness.

"Such a time does not need the folly of a simple minded, unlearned initiate. I give way to better minds to pay such an event fairer words." Jeorge said with a solid sense of reality solidifying his voice, his paler face of a simple expression.

"Very good scout, such thoughts would see you already tread the path of wisdom." The marine replied, thoroughly impressed.

"I would not pray, my lord. I trust in our mighty captain to manipulate the fates so we accomplish our task. Lord Viktur shall see us all safe, along with the relic." Deanor said in a humble tone, the scout of darker blonde and fair skin solid in his trust of captain.

"Ah, we have a man of men! You relinquish yourself of the sacred text, boy?" The marine called out once more, his question more a way of humoring himself rather than a demand of rectification.

"I say my prayers as we all do, my lord, and my heart holds the wait of each word I think or speak. Yet now I choose to place but a portion of my heart upon the shoulders of our commander."

"Such words ring as if I grip our rudder with my very hands." Viktur huffed as he entered the hangar, the blast doors still sliding open even his tenth step from them.

"I appreciate the trust you offer me, initiate. But our fate lies far beyond my control, and at this time I'd fully support a good, heart-felt prayer." The captain said as he passed the scout by, his armored fingers tapping upon the pommel of the chainsword fixed to his belt.

"Our situation is truly so dire?" A marine chimed in.

"More so. Our heading is unknown and maximum travel time is another three hours. The ships hull will only hold another thirteen minutes. We could well be dead before journeys end." Viktur replied somberly.

"And the relic lost, or destroyed." Ivanhar added.

"Pyrus Inferna has served us well thus far, she will see us return in her final hours." Another marine cast his lot in.

"We can ho-" Viktur was cut of by a titanic quake that nearly shook the legs from under him.

"Real-space re-entry successful captain, if somewhat abrupt." The systems serf called from the radio.

"Let him be praised!" Was one of the many enriched praises given by the Astartes.

"Truly....Something isn't right." Viktur murmured to himself.

"My lord?" Ivanhar asked.

"I've never been one to boast the notion of luck. What reason could there be for us to live when the chances say we would perish?"

"The Emperor keeps us in his gaze." The sergeant replied, as if the answer was utterly obvious.

"Of course...of course. Analysor, what of the ship?"

"I declared the Pyrus Inferna deceased fourteen seconds ago in my local data bank, sire. All ship systems are offline, seventy four point eight-three percent will remain irreparable. Including your suits system, you will run out of air in three days." The chief serf droned in reply.

"Are their any Denti left on board?"

"Negative, Captain. The last of the invaders where destroyed after warp riptides annihilated decks A-13 through A-26."

"No way to find out where we are? No way to send any form of communication from the ship?"

"I'm afraid not, Captain. In all technicality, the vessel is now a wreck, my lord."

The captain clenched his jaw at the correction of the lesser creature. The Pyrus hadn't been the largest, nor the most powerful vessel of the Sacrificors by a far, but it had been a true craft that served its purpose far beyond what was expected.

"No one sing praise just yet, brothers. Yolrin, I'll need your squad to salvage what plasma cores we have in the drop-deck and find every length of conductor this craft has. Ivanhar, you ready yourself at the comms deck and see what we have to work with in getting a transmission sent....."Viktur would have continued but was caught in a web of confusion and frustration which had gradually been ensnaring him.

His brethren had lost focus on him, as if he had drifted from reality and become a ghost. Their eyes, or at least their lenses looked partially through him, but mostly just inclined above him. Those whose faces could be seen were gripped in disbelief, a unique breed of confusion that expressed witnessing the utterly impossible. Viktur began to turn, fearing the possibility that they had actually jumped a circle and where once again floating above the dying world they had just meant to leave far behind them. The captain readied himself for his eyes to be assaulted by the worst sight he could see, turning his heel and taking one final swivel to bring his eyes to the row of observation windows. A wave of relief was immediately followed by the same wonder that had enthralled his fellows.

A world of bright greens, soft yellows and ethereal blues peered through the bridge at the marines like a curious child. It's lush and healthy surface was as inviting and comforting as the warmest of smiles, as if the world itself beckoned the Astartes onward to tread upon its soil. Never before had Viktur seen a world in such good health, its clouds so gently dispersed and fluid in pattern along with the earth below clearly divided into the various colors depending on terrain. The deserts looked sandy and warm, the mountains solid and strong, the forests deep and full and the plains vast and clear. The planet idly spun slowly across the armour-glass of the bridge, wheeling into a divine dance to further invite the wayward craft.

"Analysor....ready crew for departure. Ivanhar, take lead on readying a Thunderhawk. Brothers.....we are not to let our emotions get the better of our minds. Such events are best left un-damned, so let us simply act upon them. Sergeant, gather demolition gear to blow the hangar door when we are ready to leave. Keep your prayers silent, but pray nonetheless, and pray our fortune holds out just a while longer."

6 - Not alone

Muhalah just couldn't seem to catch a break.

The commander had been settled into his third hour of sleep as the ships-wide alarm system rang out, ordering all hands to their battle-stations. The first thought that came into the commanders head was who could have been assaulting Eponas' fleet? Who had found out their location, and more importantly, how? Eponas' whereabouts had been kept a solid secret from all aside from those directly involved in its governing. Someone very high up in the federations authoritative or political pole must have been captured, or perhaps the far-flung possibility of treachery at such a level. Yet somehow, someone not of the UTF had found them out in this very bizarre part of the middle of nowhere.

"How many of them?" The commander asked in a shaky voice as he marched into the bridge of the Frontier, the two generals already present.

"Just one, unknown signature and load-out. No weapon systems, no life support and no comm feed, sir." A crewman replied, sliding holographics about the screen before him.

"One ship, out here?" Muhalah asked, his expression strained in disbelief as he finished doing up his jacket.

"Not just a ship, a dead ship. How comes we didn't get a whisper of intel on this thing shocking in?" Mason asked in an impatient tone.

"Web's not squawking about anything making jumps for a seventy light year diameter. And I'm not sure this thing actually jumped using a space-time rip, sir. It just came up on radar out of nowhere, no flux feedback or void-pull to give us a heads up. Looked pretty coming through though." The crewman shrugged.

"What?" Blurted Mason.

"Looked like the craft came out of a damn abstract painting, sir. Reminded me of a damn firework or something." A female technician called out from the rear-bridge sensor assembly.

"So you're telling me this thing came out of some kind of, what, portal?" Mason questioned skeptically.

"No, sir, I'm saying this thing quite literally came out of nowhere. That or it's using tech that's giving output that sweeps right under our sensors."

"Bring it up of holographics." Mason ordered, marching over to the holo-table.

"Scans are taking a while sir, its composite makeup is odd; too dense to get a clear picture." The crewman replied, still hard at work.

"Take us closer, I want to see this thing." Mason ordered.

"You think that's such a good idea?" Dragovich inquired.

"We have a ship dead in the water, one that is clearly not one of ours, I want to know what the postman just delivered us. Jen, what readings did this thing give off when it jumped in?" The general asked the technician.

"Uh, let's see. Radiation, inconsistent levels. Ultraviolet, inconsistent levels. Thermal, low levels. Something happened, just not sure what."

"Visuals coming up, sir. Come take a look." One of the bridge helmsman said.

The three officers marched to the observation window layout to see a small red lump floating in an ocean of black. The object grew in size as the cruiser closed in cautiously. there seemed to be a dust-like aura following the object, which came to be seen as debris as the details of the craft became clearer. Finally the craft came to fill the majority of the glass before them.

The craft was blatantly alien in design, that was clear enough. It's bow was blocky and bloated to a larger size that its mid-section, towards the rear of each of its side was emblazoned with a vast insignia, far to large to be considered practical. The image was a wide-winged, golden eagle with two heads, gleaming a bright gold.

From there the ship slimmed down, like a neck of sorts, each side loaded with what at first seemed to be docking ports, but where far too large and the fact there where multiples of them led the officers to believe that they where an immense battery array. The craft was small, two kilometers end-to-end at most, yet seeing such a vast and visible weapons system struck a sudden sense of mortality.

The terrifying degree of armament continued atop the craft as two massive turrets could be seen, one above the crafts middle, another slightly lower, above the bow. The Frontier had turrets, sure, but not ones the size of a crouching Jaeger. Considering the entire weapons system as a whole, this ship alone could cut a cruiser in half with just a single barrage.

Towards the rear of the craft its hull bulked up considerably, obviously housing most of its engine-work, hangars and crew compartments. Each side of the stern was flanked by a large stabilizing fin of some sort, for what purpose was unclear to them at this time. And finally, at the far rear sat a numerous cluster of massive engines.

"Prepare a boarding team." Dragovich ordered a comms operator.

"Are you mad?! We can't just board that thing!" Muhalah sputtered.

"No, we can't. Comms, try hailing them." Mason ordered.

"Hail who? Look at the thing, it's a wreck! Everything on board is either dead or abandoned ship." Dragovich huffed.

"If that's true then who made the jump?" Mason countered.

"No more than a malfunction. The 'Furian' made a jump after being cut apart forty years ago-" Dragovich begun before being cut off.

"THIS-ISN'T-THE-FURIAN! It's a fucking alien craft with so many guns on it I'm half-way convinced at turning every ship in this fleet around and headed straight back to earth!" Mason roared, shaking his hands beside Dragovichs' un-phased head.

"General Mason, I've had quite enough of your hysterics for one day. Do you wish for me to pull a regulation code on you?" Dragovich asked coldly.

Mason lowered his arms and tensed his neck in the effort to subdue his anger.

"You know what, go on. Go ahead and poke around inside that thing so I can throw a copy of the video-logs at the feds and have your ass court martialed." Mason threatened heatedly.

"The federation won't be complaining when I hand them the first extra-terrestrial spacecraft to be encountered by man." Dragovich boasted calmly.

"Sir, hailing attempt failed. Don't even know if they received our transmission." The operator announced.

"It doesn't matter, ready the boarding team. VTOL them over there and get them cut into that thing." The general ordered with a sense of finality as he wandered closer to the observation windows.

Two teams of ten orbital troopers accompanied by three Olympians readied themselves in the Frontiers hangar bay, loading every pouch with a magazine and fixing every useful attachment to every weapon they were taking. Some of them were excited, but most were secretly rose-budding over the whole situation. A dead, alien ship floating through space filled with universe-knows-what aboard. Talks of giant bug-creatures with laser-rocket-launchers spun through the air just as often as the idea of thousands of miniature reptile people that would tear them apart bit-by-bit. Most of the talk was given and taken as trivial banter, simple jokes to soften the atmosphere a little.

"What about Equestrians?" Olympian Private Geoff proposed, a pale man with thin, brown hair.

"What?! You're crazy." Olympian Private Connor replied, the super-soldier having deeply tanned skin and a thin mohawk of jet-black hair.

What if we've just, like, pissed of some massive empire of Equestrians that where, like, 'growing' Equestria to feul their numbers or some shit?"

"Whatever. You know those stupid-ass natives get confused when told to operate cutlery, let alone fly a spaceship."

"Maybe Geoff's got a point. I mean the ship did arrive here in fifty different pieces, maybe the horses did build it." Andrea pointed out with a chuckle, the Sergeant of long, bright blonde hair loading the last of her grenades in her soft pouches.

"Yeh, leave it down to the pretty-ponies to fuck up space travel." Chuckled Connor.

"Take it easy on the cloppers, they'll get there some day." Shrugged Geoff.

"Well, when I'm actually on a meaningful op doing my job and not babysitting these primitives, I'll take that into account, Geoff." Andrea stated.

"Guys, girls and unsure, gather around!" Lieutenant Frederick called out, the twenty three soldiers wandering closer to him as he stood up upon an ammo crate.

"Right, situation is as follows; Gonna get eat by space-beetles, have fun!" The troops gave a chorus of hearty chuckles, " The short of it is we fly on over, knock on the door and invite ourselves in. Cutting teams, any longer than fifteen minutes getting through and we pull back to re-evaluate. Once inside we have Olympian team 'Oracle' support 'Javelin' squad while 'Cherokee' squad walk alone a while. We head separate ways, do a figure of eight and Oracle swaps teams when we meet up again. If we run into trouble then Oracle heads to the hot zone. No clock on this op, the General wants us to be thorough." Frederick said in a very easy-to-understand manner.

"Wonder which general that could possibly be?" Connor muttered to his teammates.

"Oh yeah, mega-mystery." Andrea seconded.

"Plan's solid for now, let's get to it!" The lieutenant finished as he jumped down to the deck.

The VTOLs faded from the view of the bridge, the small amount of red on their mostly black hulls shrinking until they blended into the rest of space. Mason stood with his fist rested at his lips, his eyes straining to collect every detail of the alien craft before him. So far few things were clear; It had weaponry equal that of a cruiser, it looked strangely aesthetic for something that should be entirely functional in design and it had been in a heavy engagement that had left it broken and inoperable. Mason closed in on the last detail, the fact it was so heavily damaged. What had damaged it, how long ago and why? He noted the external damage upon the ship and arrived at a horrifying revelation.

"Captain, what do you make of the hull damage to that vessel?" Mason asked.

"Uh, not sure. Doesn't look like ordnance damage I've ever seen. Probably homage to how little we know about these things." Muhalah said with a shrug.

"Does it remind you of anything, Captain?" Mason asked again, a cold sweat developing on his brow.

"Well, um, I don't know really..." Muhalah strained to take in the details of the craft, "...Although, looks like something I saw on 'Animal Plane-'" Muhalah chuckled before realization struck him like a lightning bolt.

"An....a-an animal, Mason. Those wounds look like-" The captain begun.

"Something was chewing on that ships, Muhalah. Something just...something really fucking huge." Mason said with a shaky voice.

"Five hundred meters in length, at least."

"Operation 'Jungle', operation 'Jungle', come in all units. I need a few guys to go and take a close up look at one of the external wounds on that ship and let them know what they find in an immediate observational session." Mason called over the long-range radio.

"Copy that, sir. Micheals, Yuki, get your asses over to the nearest hole and poke around." Chimed back Frederick.

"Please be wrong, please be wrong." Mason muttered to himself.

A few minutes later the two orbital troops had reached the closest wound to their landing zone. The ship was truly gigantic, similar in size to the UTF ships, only appearing much less clean-cut and much, much older. The dark-skinned, buzz-cut Micheals was first to reach the giant hole in the broadside of the ship, shortly followed by the neon turquoise haired Yuki.

"Lieutenant, we've reached the impact site. Massive external damage over a one hundred diameter area. Looks like the round cut a couple decks into the hull." Yuki announced over the radio.

"Confirm that, Private. It's definitely a ballistics wound?" General Mason quickly replied from aboard the Frontier.

"Uh, not sure, sir. No blast residue or external scouring that I can see. It's almost like the entire section was 'sucked' right off the ship." Yuki said before looking over the edge of the external deck she stood upon and into the wound.

"Wait," The private noted, "There's something on the hull, inside the impact site."

She knelt down and wiped her gloved hand across the inside of the damaged area, pulling away something shiny.

"Oh wow, that's just lovely." Micheals noted in a disgusted tone.

"Sir, we have some kind of...residue, on the inside of the wound." Yuki said as she played with the slimy, translucent liquid in her hand.

"Origins?" Mason asked.

"Unknown. Coolant, maybe."

"Could it be the crew?"

"Perhaps, not out of the question that someone took a nasty ride out of here after decompression."

"Let me guess, that's the second most disgusting fluid you've ever had on your hand?" Micheals said with a chuckle.

Yuki stood up and wiped her hand on her squad mate, who in turn flinched away in disgust of the alien goo that had smeared over his battle-dress.

"I dunno. It doesn't look like gore though. It's like.....some kind of secreted resin."

"Yeah, but secreted from whaaaaaaaa-" Micheals replied as his eyes floated upwards and spied something of great interest.

Yuki followed his gaze to see something massive sticking out the side of the hull, something bone colored and shiny.

"Uh, General, there is a giant...tooth, sticking out the side of the ship." Micheals said slowly, his attention stretched upon the giant predatory cone above him.

"Confirm that, private. What does it look like?" Mason asked in a panic.

"Well it's big...and toothy?"

"Private." Mason growled.

"It's gotta be twenty meters long, sir. Something the size of a cargo ship decided to use this craft as a chew toy." Yuki confirmed.

"I made out five, six similar wounds when we approached the landing zone, sir. I think there could have been a whole mess of these things gnawing away at this ship." Micheals added.

"Ok. All squads, proceed with the *utmost caution. Whatever hit this ship might have left something behind.*" Mason announced.

"Come on Ian, this is taking too long." Fredrick growled impatiently.

"Sorry, sir," The private replied in his tired state, "But the cutter isn't working. The hull is like nothing I've seen before and this blast door is much the same. It's like cutting through a tree with a pen."

"Fine, we get to knock harder. Frontier, we could use a hole here." The officer called over the radio.

"Roger that Cherokee leader, ordnance incoming. Get clear."

The three squads hurried over as fast as their mag-boots would let them, clearing away from the giant blast door to a safer distance. As they reached the safe zone Micheals and Yuki re-joined their squad.

"Have fun?" A trooper asked.

"Sure did. Found out today is the day I get to look forward to being digested." Micheals replied.

"Coil shot inbound." The weapons specialist announced.

Not a moment after the large, super-sonic round hit the outer hull of the alien craft, sending a thick quake through its surface.

"Anyone home?" A trooper asked in jest.

The lieutenant stood up from his braced position and took a look at the blast door. Only problem was the door was still there.

"Control, we have a problem in that this ship is apparently made of stubbornness made into metal. We're going to need another round on this thing." Frederick said in a huff.

"Confirm that round was ineffective on target.

"The door's had the shit kicked out of it, but it's still there! Just hit it again!"

Another magnetically charged round struck the massive door, this time sending thick metal chunks flying in every direction outside the hull.

"We're in business. Fill the hole!" Frederick ordered.

The inside of the ship was the polar opposite of every federation ship any of the troops had ever seen. Instead of the clean, bright, shiny corridors that made up the inside of their own ships, instead they looked upon the grim, foggy interior of the alien craft. It was like stepping back in time, into some deep, dark temple from an age long forgotten. The walls were a dark metal, lined with strange electronic panels and instruments that appeared like they belonged in the sea-ships of the twentieth century rather than a spacecraft. Something had caught the lieutenants' eye as they rounded another corner, weapons held firmly up to their eyes. There was some kind of console at the end of the tall corridor, some kind of intricate assembly. He led his squad closer to inspect the instrument to find it to have no functionality at all, for it was actually some form of shrine.

The ten man squad was baffled, utterly thrown off guard at the prospect of an advanced alien race actually feeling the need to erect an actual religious shrine inside their ship. Yet this mystery would have to wait, as something truly terrifying revealed itself to them all.

Within the shrine was a single, tall, robed figure gently clutching a sword with its blade rested at the figures feet. Around the larger stone sculpture flew smaller figures, child like and quite daunting in appearance. Each smaller sculpture was depicted as being wired to the body of the central one. Around the edge of the archway that presented the sculptures was hung dozens of lengths of parchment, each with finely written scripture. Two things disturbed the troopers further, the first being that the scripture was a strange form of Latin, and somewhat readable, the second being what the sculptures where carved to represent. The largest had a skull for a face, notably, a somewhat human one aside from its exaggerated features and the waterfall of tubes and wires that flowed out from the back of its head like freakish dreadlocks. The smaller figures were winged, human children, also with skulls for faces; some held lengths of parchment, others appeared to be singing and a couple blew long trumpets hat appeared much like the ones from medieval times.

"Sir....what is this?" A trooper asked shakily.

"Let's just keep going. Cherokee to bridge, this is turning out to be quite the house of horrors here. Can't say I'm comfy with spending any unnecessary amount of time in here." Frederick said.

"Got you there Cherokee. Stream is clear and we're getting everything you are. Looks like a pleasant place to hang out down there."

"Yeh, I think I'll bring the wife here one day." Frederick replied.

The squad continued onward, running into more shrines along with tapestries, stained glass windows and paintings that confirmed the same story time and time again. The crew was human. Or at least some kind of humanoid being that greatly resembled a Terran.

"Sir, dead end ahead. Door's all shut up." A trooper announced as he spotted and approached a very church-like door.

"Sir, look, below the control panel. That might be an emergency manual release." Private Yuki pointed out.

"Pull the switch, Jones." The officer ordered.

The private clutched the over-sized yellow and black lever and gave it a firm tug with no result. Another, exerted pull saw the lever snap away from the wall and activate some mechanism within the door. After a loud clunking sound the door abruptly slid apart from the middle to reveal a wall of razor sharp teeth.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUUUUUUCK!" The private screamed as the mass of ravenous mouths loomed over him.

He, along with the rest of his squad opened fire upon the hoard of creatures that assailed them, rail gun fire peppering their bodies. Pieces of exoskeleton and lumps of bright blue organs flew away from the vast cluster of aliens.

"Cease fire!"

The order went unheard as the troopers emptied their mags into the alien bodies.

"Cease fire now!"

The troopers began throwing curses and hysterics towards the creatures as they ran dry and scrambled to reload.

"I SAID CEASE FIRE YOU BUNCH OF FUCKTARDS!" Frederick screamed.

The squad began to calm down and looked to the officer, their polarized visors hiding their panic-stricken faces. They turned to look at the attacking alien hoard to fin it was not so much attacking as gently floating towards them.

Bodies, all dead and blown to fractions of their former selves. Outside their pale, ill looking flesh contrasted their oily-black chitin that ran along the top of their heads and down their hunched backs. Their wounds bled a sky-blue, milky gore along with strange, alien organs. From what the lieutenant could make out, they were mostly insectile in form, having a flattened head with four diamond-pupil eyes, thick, hunched thoraxes protected by thick armour, a long tail providing them stability and six limbs all tipped with a razor sharp talon.

"Jones, stick one." Frederick ordered.

The private gingerly edged closer to the nearest which looked like it was frozen in time midway into leaping forward to take the privates head off. The trooper took out a bio-probe and thrusted it between the creatures ribs at its underbelly. On the third time and with a little pulling along with pushing the needle went into the leathery flesh of the monster.

"Carbon based. Got some freaky-ass digestive system. Nervous system runs under the organ cluster rather than along the back." The private listed off his findings.

"Rail bullets just rough them up. This one got hit with a dozen rounds and I'm only seeing some supplementary damage. The exoskeleton is like chromed steel." Yuki said as she studied one of the bodies.

"Jones, watch out!" Micheals yelled as he pulled his squad-mate away from his probe display.

A two foot long talon swept down towards the private in the zero-gravity and missed him by just a few inches. His probe remained stuck inside the alien body, the display screen floating beside it, attached by a coiled wire. The talon swooped down and hit the screen with no more speed that a light stroke, yet still the edge of the bony blade sliced clean through the screen.

"Shields, idiot." Jones huffed.

"Just being considerate." Micheals shrugged.

"What do we all think of the crew then? They look super friendly." A trooper asked.

"This isn't the crew, dipshit. I think we're looking at the culprits of the giant-fucking-holes mystery. These must be some form of infantry organism the larger one dispense into ships. Almost like a venom for spaceships." Yuki stated.

"Talking of venom, the science geeks are gonna love this, watch." The squad medic held out one of the creatures blades and broght up a blood-transfusion bag with his other. He threw the bag at the blades point, the squad watching the claw slice clean through the plastic as though it wasn't even there. The blood washed over the blade, the medic leaving it there for a second before pinching the edge of the crimson stain. The trooper then proceeded to peel off the blood that had taken a solid form much like rubber.

"Wow, that's fucked up." Micheals awed.

"The limbs secrete a venomous agent that bonds blood cells together. One painful way to go if you end up getting clipped by one of these." The medic said as he pushed away the alien limb.

"Can't help but notice that bloody is very much not frozen." Micheals said, bringing the squads attention to the doors they had walked through when studying the bodies, the door that had now closed up once again.

"Pressure's stable, we have atmosphere, gravity and by the looks of it we have power." Micheals noted as he pointed to an array of lanterns that hung from the walls of the corridor.

"Great, anyone feeling brave enough to try the air?" Frederick asked with only five seconds of silence as an answer, "Yeh, me too. Javelin, we have the environmental works on our end, you?"

"Power came back a few seconds back, apparently ship-wide. We've had air for about ten minutes." Replied the squad leader.

"How is it?"

"Like shit. Smells like burnt up herbs or something, pretty overwhelming. Helmets have been locked ever since."

"Thanks for the heads up. Actually, I can see where the smell is coming from over here. Some kind of incense burner built into the ceiling, releasing a shitload of smoke that's settling on the floor."

"Roger, I see it too. Had just about enough of the weird shit this ship is throwing at us."

"Run into any ugly-ass bug-dogs yet?"

"Surely you don't mean that bunch of sexy little things that made Timothy piss himself?"

"Yeh, those. Keep an eye out for any that might feel like living again. Frederick, out."

"Sir, I've run a short-wave scan. Before the end of this corridor we take a right and we might just end up in the engine room." said Yuki.

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure, that or it's a big open space with no reason to exist." Shrugged the private.

"You were saying, Private?"

Before the squad was a vast expanse, a hall the size of an apartment building. The purpose of the space was unknown to them, but it looked much like the interior of churches from ancient times. Stained glass windows gave the room a dim, pale illumination, each depicting some event of great cataclysm or tragedy. Large pillars held up the misty ceiling, all sculpted to depict, or more disturbingly, actually made from what appeared to be human skulls. At the far end of the hall was some kind of altar places before a giant monument that depicted a man of great musculature thrusting a spear into the throat of some unearthly horror, a terrifying monster from a vivid nightmare. The man was made from the purest gold any of the squad had ever seen, giving him an almost liquid appearance. His face was stern and strong, almost giving him a caveman like appearance compared to the soft, smooth features of the Terrans. The creature at his feet was made from a dark marble, an obsidian black with ghostly white veins running across its surface.

"What the hell is with this place? What the hell is with all the skulls! AND JUST WHAT THE OUTRIGHT FUCK IS A...just...why is there a person made of gold up there?!" Frederick roared.

"These beings are extremely humanoid, most certainly the same hominid genus as us if not a remarkably similar one. Muscular structure has to be augmented genetically, maybe chemically. Judging by the state of those bodies we found I'm willing to bet these guys drag around some pretty hefty armament." Yuki said as she looked up at the statue of gold.

"Sir, I highly recommend we get the flying-fuck out of here before we meet the neighbors!" Micheals called from the far side of the hall.

"Right, I'm sure frontier has enough pics to last them a lifetime. Form up at the starboard door and head out the way we came." Frederick ordered.

Thadoom

"What was that?" Jones said shakily.

Thadoom

Thadoom

"Sir, that noise that sounds like fuck-huge footsteps is-getting-closer!" Micheals called in a panic.

Thadoom-Thadoom-Thadoom-Thadoom

"Nice going you loudmouthed moron!" Yuki spat.

"The pillars, get behind the pillars." Frederick whispered over the mic.

The squad hurriedly scrambled to get behind the large, skull pillars as a shadow crept through the main entry way. Frederick signaled with a steadily vibrating hand to keep quiet to every squad member he could see. A massive figure marched through the archway, a dark silhouette of terrible size. Frederick risked a quick peek to see the creature that advanced through the hall and towards the altar. It was eight feet tall, easily, and had bulk that made an Olympian look like a pencil. Its armour encased it entirely, a thick plate crafted into a bulky suit that was obviously powered by the battery pack it had on its back. Its helmet was formed into an intimidating death-mask, the bright yellow lenses aglow with murderous intent above a facial grill that made the figure look like it was bellowing at whoever faced it.

"Well, thieves, I can smell you." The deep roar of its voice was obviously masculine in every way, though it shook the lieutenant with a terribly fear. It made him feel like a child.

"I can hear your breath." Jones was shaking like a madman, fear giving weakness to his form like nothing he had experienced before.

"Where are you?" Frederick clenched his teeth as the titanic footsteps marched past him.

"Where-are-you?!" The mans voice was a monstrous roar, a terrifying thunder of pure rage.

Frederick held his carbine tight against his body armour and slowly slid his index finger to bring it upon the weapons trigger. He began to turn his head with unreal slowness as fear sunk deep into his mind. Suddenly something gripped his shoulder plate and wrenched him around with incredible strength, sending the officer flying off his feet and onto the metallic floor. Thunder strikes rung out as the giant marched to loom over his frail body which had been frozen in utter dread.

7 - Come on in...

Fredericks' lungs were spent, flushed of the air they so desperately needed. His legs, even his arms ached to a torturous degree, yet he continued to fuel them energy he would never have believed he had. His armour made more noise than he had heard it make before, his mad dash provoking his battle-plate, sending out a frantic chorus of clashes with every footfall.

Fiendish creatures! Come to the belly of this sacred craft to devour its treasures! Likened to maggots feasting on a corpse!

The thunder of its voice echoed through his mind, shattering his resolution and scattering any tactical thought into a tempest of fear, only the primal instinct to survive remained, and it screamed at him to flee. His squad was in tow, yet held no formation or tactical advance, they simply ran for their lives.

Begone from this haloed place, flee to the foul nest you sprung from!

And flee he did, flee they all did. The lieutenant clumsily turned a corner he barely realized was there due to the spiderweb of cracks his visor had sustained, Micheals crashing into his left shoulder as her skidded around the turn. Normally the private would receive a vital tongue-lashing, but such menial concerns went completely unnoticed by the orbital trooper.

Jonah

Frederick felt something tug at his mind.

Frederick

Something haunted his senses.

"Lieutenant! Jonah, can you hear me?! Jonah, come in!" Masons' voice roared through the radio in his helmet.

Frederick began to slow down, finally stumbling to a halt and falling to one knee in exhaustion. Some of his squad ran past him, the furthest falling over themselves about a dozen feet ahead of him.

"FUCK!" Frederick spat between his gasps.

"Lieutenant, what the fuck is happening in there?! What was that thing?!" The general cried out.

"That.....that thing....." Frederick failed to finish his sentence through his huff, coughs and panting.

"They're us! I don't know how, but they're us! Something Mega Corp is cooking up or some shit?!" Yuki said shakily

"Mega Corp?! Are you some kind of fucking idiot?! They're fucking aliens you dumb shit!" Another trooper yelled out falling against a bronze, metal wall.

"General, you have to make up your own mind as to what that thing was. We just need to get the hell out of here, right now." Frederick managed to pick himself up and threw a couple of his troopers forward in the effort to get the squad moving again.

"Roger that, but we'll still need to debrief you when you get back. Weapons teams, that ship has angry shit inside, so you see those big-ass turrets so much as twitch, light the whole damn ship up. Lieutenant, if that things' weapons start feeling lively we will not wait for you to get clear before firing. Please, Jonah, don't be on board if we have to get critical on that ship."

"Understood, Frederick out! Troopers, if you're not wearing one billion factor sun-tan lotion I suggest that you move-your-asses!"

"I can smell you!-......-hear your breath-.......-re you?!" Mason fast-forwarded to what he wanted to hear most.

It could smell them, hear them, hell, it could probably see them considering what technology they had. But the fact it made note of its' senses being alerted, such a thing was akin to the hunting-growl of a lion. And the troopers had been its game. Mason took note of the tinge of excitement its' voice had, as if it enjoyed the fact it was hunting something. This was clearly a faction of warrior predators, some kind of elite breed of soldier forged by some bizarre alien race.

A race so similar to his own it was frightening beyond compare.

It would seem that Equestria, in fact, all of Epona was the 'coincidence trains' first stop, and this was its' next. The golden statue had revealed the face of this strange race, a face that seemed to have been torn right out of an ancient book about gods and angels. Their brows were exaggerated and strong, as were their jaw lines and cheek-bones. Their musculature was almost comical in its augmentation; vast shoulders,arms like tree-trunks, obscenely thick necks, bulky chests, backs and stomach all held firmly upon equally titanic legs. And the soldier that had encountered Javelin squad had lived up to and then surpassed the impression the sculpture had given, throwing their officer about like a wet rag, taunting them with speech from beyond the ages of technology. Ten specialist troopers had been little more than a squabble of scavenging rats, and had forced such a fright as to have the general order a complete retreat.

Of course, his Olympians could have hoped to capture or at least contain this creature, but the general knew better than to provoke something of such size and of such volatile temperament. Plus, how many more where there aboard the alien vessel? Surely such a craft was not home to merely one lone warrior? Surely it was not he alone who destroyed the monstrosities that had his infiltration team shitting themselves upon seeing? No, there had to be more. Yet another question was whether the others where lesser or greater than the one his men had encountered?

"All squads accounted for, VTOLs are returning to their hangar, sir." A crew man droned.

"General Mason, it's Andrea. Just what is going on, sir. We're in that wreck for no longer than an hour and we're running scared just because we caught a glimpse of one crew member?" The Olympian complained.

"No offense, Olympian, but that 'one crew member' made you look like a damned ten-year-old! General, what's our next step? I for one sure would appreciate not going back there any time soon." Frederick shot back at the Olympian before pleading to his general.

"Ok, guys, I'm at a loss on what to do next. We know that there's crew aboard, but they don't seem too friendly. I'm calling up local command to give them our situation and see what they have to say about it."

"Not if I have anything to say about it, Mason! I'm recalling my 23rd squads to go and take another look inside. But this time, unseen." Dragovich growled over the comms, obviously in his personal command perch towards the top of the ships spine.

"This is beyond us, Dragovich! We call home, we get orders, we act on what they think is the best course of action." Mason barked in return to the general.

"I will not be one of the generals that sat back in fear of a single damaged vessel and its grouchy occupants. And I will certainly not allow you to cry over the phone to HQ just because you're out of ideas!"

"Oh right, because sending in your ghouls is such a great idea." Mason huffed.

"General, let me see it." Doctor Rsenomena marched into the bridge behind Mason, her voice shaking with either excitement or fear was something Mason could not tell.

"Right here." The general replayed the video feed from the mission with a tap on an orange hologram switch.

"This is...incredible.....This is utterly incredible, General! It's a Hominid, another genus of human, without a doubt!" The doctor said agape with awe.

"We can't say anything for sure, doctor. We need to regroup and call this out to the higher-ups." Mason sighed.

"Just look at it, Mason! And the statue! Who could have possibly predicted this? A space-faring race with such religious aesthetics, such decorative and expressive architecture. Religious behavior like this should belong to a regressive culture, not one that travels between planets. And the image of the sculpture, the skeletal layout is all wrong, twisted and exaggerated underneath the muscular system. The rib cages' muscular structure is more wiry and less densely distributed than ours. It must have bone segments weaved throughout the ribs, making it nearly solid! The facial structure is also odd, like it was designed to be more intimidating in appearance on at least a subconscious level-"

"Doctor, please! Just...stop picking this apart. You'll have plenty of time for all this when you get back to your lab, which by the way; Why aren't you in, right now?" Mason queried.

"You really think the data teams have their lips sewn shut? The whole department is screaming about that thing." Natalie gestured to the alien wreck.

"Great, nice to know we have secure lines of communication. Don't think I won't bring this up in disciplinary motive." Mason warned halfheartedly.

"With this in the sky, I don't think we're going to hear from you for the another year."

"Don't remind me." Mason huffed as he switched from looking at the video feed and the alien ship through the observation windows.

"Whatever questions Equestria has brought us, this....this brings up ten times as many. I mean we can dress these guys up as aliens as much as we want to make ourselves feel safe, or sane. But really, there is no way they evolved from a separate genetic line from us. The odds are beyond thinking about." The doctor proposed.

"Are they beyond possibility, Doctor?" Mason asked.

"....No, General. But I'm willing to put my years' wages on this species being, somehow, divided from our at a point in time."

"Then I hope you look forward to eating out of recycling vats for the next year, because I'm not buying it."

"Really, Mason? You can't be that ignorant, I know you're not. Same base physiological traits, same bone layout, same cranial structure, they speak our fucking language, Mason! They're us!" Natalie nearly screamed in frustration.

"Fine, bring me it all in writing with some hard evidence and I'll bite, but for now I get to call them aliens."

"I hail to the commander of this vessel, and seek his audience." The voice was a rumble, like a stampede condensed into words that growled from the bridges' comm channel.

"Where is that coming from?!" Mason barked.

"Where do you think, sir?" A crewman quipped back.

"Great. Uh.....duh, I...am General Henry Mason, Co-Commander of Eponas' Federation forces. Who, uh, am I speaking to?"

"I am Captain Viktur of the Sacrificors Space Marine chapter. I must discuss with you what transpired aboard my ship not long ago." Vikturs' voice made Mason feel like a child being loomed over by an upset parent. Each word was well pronounced in a very deep growl of what could be interpreted as a British accent, only one plucked from medieval times.

"Ah, yeh. Yeh, right, we had a, uh, little encounter with one of your men, Captain. I take it we are not to be wandering the inside of your ship any time soon then?" Mason said with a cringe.

"As much as it pains my first words to be shared with you would set up boundaries between us, I must insist that your forces, indeed, stay clear from the innards of my ship." Viktur seemed understanding, almost resentful of the limitation he presented.

"Uh, I don't think that'll be a problem now, just wanted to know who arrived at our doorstep and all." Mason replied.

"Of course, General. Now, I must ask a favor of you, one I know I have no right to ask considering how I recently evicted your people from my craft, but one of dire urgency." Mason was somewhat taken aback by the aliens' clean mannerisms and level-headed tone.

"Uh...sure, what can I help you with?" Mason said while throwing his eyes about the bridge in search for objection, simply receiving shrugs and awkward looks in return.

"My marines and I hold with us a very sacred cargo that is the utmost import to us. We planned to see ourselves freed from the belly of our ruined craft via a gunship, only too find that both docked vessels to be inoperable, leaving us stranded. I will not boast a false position of power to you my good General, but instead ask simply for your aid. We require you open your doors to us so we might see our cargo secured."

"Right, well-" Mason begun.

"And what exchange do you offer us?" A Russian voice burst over the channel.

"And who might you be?" Viktur seemed to get Dragovichs' personality with just that simple sentence.

"I am General Solavona Dragovich, Commander of Eponas' forces."

"Co-commander." Mason murmured, rubbing his temples.

"Well, General, I would ask you to simply look to the generosity of your heart to see me and my brethren safe with our cargo. However, if you must be swayed by trinkets and trades then I would offer you twenty four Terran hours to study our ships internals once we have evacuated from them." Viktur proposed in a less than enthusiastic tone.

"Terran! Mason, he said they were Terran! How is this possible?!" The Doctor squealed in a hushed manner.

"A day? Come now, Captain, we require more than just one day to truly gain anything information on your craft. Information that guarantees the safety of my people the more we have of it." Dragovich huffed.

"I am sure you will learn much of us from a days' worth of study. Besides, I doubt you'll want to be aboard after this craft enters your planets' atmosphere."

"Yeh, I noticed that you're headed straight for us there, anything we can do to give you a tow?" Mason offered.

"No, General. This vessel has lived a long, proud life of exceptional service. I wish that this world be the crafts tomb, see its legacy finished in a more definite manner. I have timed the engines to deliver the last of the cores power to shunt it into the nearest ocean at a reasonable velocity."

"Uh...right. Well, we'll have to take certain precautions when taking you aboard, but sure. We'll extend an umbilical to receive you where we cut through earlier. Everything should be set up in ten minutes." said Mason.

"My thanks, General. Know we have weapons that require us to bring aboard. I shall allow you to disarm and sterilize should you need to, but the weapons themselves must remain with us."

"That...should be ok, but yeh, we will need to give everything a scrub down if any lights start blinking on the scanners." Mason replied, somewhat unsure of himself. He did not want the federations' first contact with extra-terrestrials to be a sour one, yet he wasn't overly fond of having alien soldiers aboard with active weapons, no matter how unloaded they might be.

"Then we are agreed, General. We shall be ready at your breach point in ten minutes, thirty six individuals including myself."

"See you then, Captain."

Thirty six? With a ship that size Mason was expecting hundreds, thousands even. Not that he could complain, such a low number brought much less trouble his way. Mason had taken something of a liking to the first impression Viktur had left him. The man was proper, reasonable and seemingly honest. Though one thing still troubled the general; What was this cargo they found so precious?

"This could mean big things, Mason, big things! Command will have us all over the web for a decade! We will be immortalized in memory!" Dragovich said, his cheery tone far from suiting him.

"Yeh, sure....in memory." Henry mused.

Mason was in a consistent state of cringing as the invisible, murderous, psychos stood next to him. Even before they had vanished within their cloaking field they had their weapons drawn and ready, it was like they'd just read 'First Contact for Dummies' that very afternoon.

"Tell me, again, why these guys are acting ambushers?" Mason sighed.

"We don't want to be caught off guard if things take bad turn." Dragovich replied plainly.

"They're bringing weapons, so we brought ours." The leader of Skeleton squad replied in his digital voice his bandanna gave him.

"Monkey see, monkey do." Mason murmured, feeling the heat of the 23rds' stare on the side of his face.

"Don't worry, Mason, it'll be fine." Said Natalie.

"I know. Would have been finer without the extra firepower."

"Fine, what would you want us to do, sir?" Another member of Skeleton asked in a condescending manner.

"Well, from what I've heard, you guys sure like your harsh language. I'm sure you could just swear them back out the door." Mason replied, more pressure beaming against his attention.

"Doesn't mean you have to look like you're about to get hit by metal, spook" Snorted Connor, the Olympians stood firmly behind the Generals, Captain Muhalah, Doctor Rsenomena and the 23rd.

The 23rd did not reply, but Mason could tell that they were being wound up further than they already had been. The Olympians were relatively relaxed, approaching the situation in a more delicate manner, a method that was utterly unknown to the 23rd. The pressure gate just before the end of the umbilical was activated, its far door sliding open. The door closed after a short while, leading to the room between the doors leveling out in pressure and becoming flooded with breathable air. The door in front of Mason was fogged out slightly, but he could make out thick, dark crimson figures shuffling about inside, along with glowing, yellow triangles gathered at a certain level. The door gave a violent hiss and slid open, leaving no safety between the General and death itself.

Seeing such things on a holographic screen was worlds or difference from actually looking at them, face to death-mask. They made an advance, heavy boots slamming hard against the metal of the umbilicals' floor and sending small quakes into Masons feet. The shaking grew in intensity as the metal monsters approached him, goliaths of crimson, stone and gun-metal. Their armour was bulky and vast, far heavier in structure and plate than that of the Olympians. Mason would expect such an armour system no be clumsy and cumbersome, yet these soldiers moved as if they wore only their skin and nothing more. Their helmets were crafted to have scowling faces, the triangular visor lenses aglow with a fierce, venomous yellow light. Mason was on the edge of making his trousers a lot browner, the creatures before him appearing as though they would simply reach out and tear him apart like he was made of wet tissue. He could hear the 23rd shuffle in anticipation, bringing up their weapons in preparation should these 'Space Marines' decide they felt like getting real mean real quick. The officers, doctor and Olympians remained relatively still, the doctor the least so as she peered at the marines in a state of amazement.

Mason noticed how the first among the marines wore no helmet, utterly exposing his head. In many ways, he was hideous, ugly scars running across his aged face, dull eyes and a number of visible bionic implants latched onto the side of his skull. His lips were thin, his skin an uneven tan as his scars broke his healthy flesh apart with pale stripes. Yet his face held a mighty quality to it, like something you'd see in a history book about ancient heroes and warlords, his intimidating features exaggerated enough to make him appear very alien to the minor beings that stood before him. His armour was slightly more heavily decorated than some of the more common marines Mason had spotted, though the ten warriors that stood behind him had similar levels of embellishment upon their battle-plate. Two of these warriors carried a large crate between the two of them, a handle in grasped tight in each of their nearest hand. By the time the captain came to a halt not two feet away from Mason, the marines footfalls had become almost unbearably violent in their agitation of the floor beneath them.

"General." Viktur said simply.

"Captain." Mason replied, clumsily trying to put an inflection of humor on his mirror response, an attempt that seemed to fall short of the captains' notice.

"Your weapons." Dragovich spat in immediately after the introduction.

The marine raised an eyebrow in a very exaggerated manner, twisting his expression into a highly unimpressed image. The captain gave the slightest of nods to his men who immediately began pulling clips from weapons and disengaging rockets from holding racks along with what looked like fuel canisters from similar assemblies.

Yep, they have flamethrowers.......fuck.

Mason began to panic slightly, the blood rushing from his face as he saw the massive amounts of firepower just thirty six of these soldiers had.

"Your weapons." Dragovich growled, remaining firm in his stance as the captain shot him a fierce look that would have killed a lesser man.

"Our agreement was for our ammunition, no more, and it is what you shall receive." Whatever intimidating squeal Dragovich had given was swatted aside by the predatory rumble of the marines voice.

"We have re-evaluated the conditions of your boarding admissions-" Dragovich began.

"We haven't re-evaluated anything. Captain, the ammunition will be fine, but we'll just need to run the weapons through a deep-scan on our way in." Mason sighed, his resolve holding steady at 'very-fucking-low'.

"Very good." the captain said as he handed a bear-can sized cylinder that was apparently some form of ammunition to what seemed like thin-air.

The officers and Olympians looked to where he had thrusted his clip to, and it must have been directly towards the face of one of the 23rd assassins. Masons' heart raced in anticipation as to what the next move to be made would be. The captain turned his face towards the space he had singled out.

"Well, boy, take this." Viktur barked as if he was ordering one of his own troops.

"Do it, Skeleton. Someone take it." Mason was on the edge of having a meltdown.

A moment passed, Vikturs expression telling to all how his patience grew smaller by the second. Suddenly a dark figure swept into view just before the marines' hand. The 23rd trooper would have appeared as a frightening sight to any other soldier stood before them, his dark cloth and armour a soulless silhouette of darkness home to a pair of glowing red lenses for eyes. Yet the captain seemed less than amused at the appearance of the comparatively small soldier.

"How did y-" the assassin began in his digitized voice.

"If one of my marines can smell the breath and plate of a boarding team, I can certainly smell your flesh and blood." Viktur growled, his voice sending a chill through the nerves of all before him.

The 23rd member slowly placed his rifle upon his back-mounted magnetic plate and took the strange clip from the marine. A moment after Viktur simply marched forward to the airlock, his men filling his place a second after.

"Uh, Mason to bridge, get....I dunno, eight ammo crates each with four guys to carry them to my position. Get some guys who don't mind a little heavy lifting." Mason called over the radio as he saw how the next marine had a fuel canister the size of a car engine under his arm.

"Roger that, sir." an operator replied.

"Andrea, you and your guys can take some of this, right?" asked Mason.

"Sure thing, sir." Andrea said as she waved forward her squad mates.

Masons' eyes bulged as he saw the contents of a rifle magazine that passed by him as marines advanced to hand over their magazines. The rounds held by their infantry was gigantic, over seventy caliber rounds with piercing tips and wide heads. Certainly designed to make a mighty mess of things. The Olympians carried as much as they could, which was little more than what one marine alone had, which led to everyone waiting on the retrieval teams to arrive. Mason couldn't help but find it a little funny upon seeing the frantic and terrified expressions of the troopers who arrive through the airlock, stumbling back a ways upon being greeted by the gigantic form of Captain Viktur.

"Ok, Andrea, you and your squad take the ammo to the income checkpoint along with these guys. Natalie, you're our hostess, make the giant aliens feel nice and comfy." Mason said shakily.

"What?! Why me?!" the doctor hissed.

"Because you're the one without a gun on them. The last thing I want is these guys on edge."

"Huh, so what if they are. There's thirty of them, thirty five thousand of us just on this ship. What are they gonna do?" one of Skeleton huffed.

"Well, I imagine they might start by tearing off your legs, maybe crush your head in their palms. Hell, maybe they'll just skull-fuck you in your sleep. One way or another, they're the anchor of this situation, we accommodate to them within reason." Mason countered.

"Mason, you truly lack ambition, my friend." Dragovich smirked as he marched past the general.

"They need to know that this is our ship, our rules." another of Skeleton added.

"Sure......why not?" Mason shrugged as he made for the airlock, eyes from hell glaring at him as he walked forward.

8 - Bolster

The soft whine of engines sang throughout Ponyville. Federation forces had bulked up to over double their original size in the town, checkpoints and forces positioned at the edges of the town being reinforced the most noticeably. The locals had begun to become familiar with the sight of troops of various class, military structures and buggies, but just this morning the first APCs and even a trio of battle tanks had rolled up past their front doors. The locals had scurried back into their homes and few remaining shops, leaving the streets clear for the troops to move through. This, however, was not through a sense of duty or respect, but fear. The equestrians had never seen such terrifying machines of such gigantic size before, leaving them cowering within the shadow of their comparatively feeble structures.

A mare of various purple coloration, child filly in arms, made a hasty trot from one building to another, all the while her violet eyes fixed to the dark-armored solders just further down the street to her. Malcolm wanted to make her feel less endangered, less like he was there to gun her down and take her stuff. In truth, he didn't actually know why he was here in this town. As much as the private wanted to make her calm, for now he simply stood staring at her through his goggles. His attention was brought to the slight red hue to edge of his vision, the tightness around the edge of his eyes and the pressure against his jaw from the gas-mask fixed there. He looked vicious, he looked mean, he looked like a soldier.

I look stupid

As if by instinct the private pulled off his helmet and fiddled with the clasps at the back of his head. His mask and goggles came loose, falling down to his collar. He organised the equipment so that his mask was in front of his goggles, neatly stacked so they could be easily accessed if he needed them. Though he was fairly sure he wouldn't any time soon, he hadn't so far in all his two weeks of being deployed on Epona. He sure did like it here; The warm air, fair weather, even when it was raining it was still bright outside. Ponyville was one hell of a nice place, everything about it giving off a calming, almost motherly aura. Quite ironic Malcolm was on the side who wanted to see it all washed away with 'reason'.

Malcolm had read a lot of data logs on old agricultural life back on Earth, how simple and calm life had been for the farmers back then. It was very different now, everyone was closer together, everything was being watched all the time. Things had been desensitized, people got used to certain things that still seemed to pluck on Malcolms' nerves. Swear words, boasts, brutality, threats, insensitivity, it all rubbed Malcom the wrong way, and the UTF infantry had it in spades on Epona. Some respected this place enough to treat it fairly, some simply dismissed anything this world through at them as a stupid fairy-tale, and some used Equestria itself as their own personal punching bag. Malcolm had to admit, this place did funny things to a soldiers head, it was so very different from every other world the federation had walked upon. Creatures from story books centuries ago, castles and princesses, an overall 'bubble-gum' theme to everything and locals that would seem suspiciously friendly and sensitive to any human. To some, it was all just way too much.

"Joyman! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Sergeant Major Fellks roared at the private.

"Just getting a bit toasty, sir!" Malcolm replied.

"You saying to me that a thousand troopers are feeling super fucking comfy wearing their kit, and you alone are the one having trouble breathing?! You need to see a fucking corpsman, Private?!" The stocky officer bellowed as he stormed up to the trooper.

"Sir, I would like to point out that it is not under federation regulations to wear hazardous environment gear unless a situation demands it, sir!" Malcolm replied in a very formal manner.

"Well shit then, Private! What you doing in the infantry?! You should be a fucking lawyer!" The sergeant obviously had something on his mind, Malcolm had expected another ten, fifteen minutes of being screamed at before the officer marched off again.

"Joy, why you always gotta poke the bear? One day you'll get us all in trouble." Banay, his squad-mate stated.

"Against regulations, Ben. If he wants to spank anyone, it'll have to be just me."

"Yeh, and one day I think Fellks isn't gonna give a fuck about 'regulations'."

"Probably when he gets sick of you using your 'regulations' as a shit-sponge. Hell, I'm getting sick of it." Jeorge added in, his deep voice rumbling through the air like a purring engine.

"They're not my regulations, man." Countered Malcolm.

His squad shuffled to the side of the street as an APC came rolling down the street. Malcolm was only nineteen years of age, green as they got, but he'd read about formations like this, only on a much larger scale. It was an active defensive initiative, lots of mobile units to shift the density of a defense around a population so evaluation tactics could be drawn to initiate actions that got more counteractive results.

"Fourth one in the last hour. Ships are dropping gear like it's going out of style. We expecting some kind of hostile encounter that isn't horses throwing stink-bombs at us?" Banay asked to no one in articular.

"We would have heard if we were being attacked, this must be in preparation for something headed our way." Added Jeorge.

"Twenty credits says Mega Corp has their eyes on the prize." Banay chuckled.

"Mega Corp, Neos', PRM, they all have reason enough to besiege us here. Corp wouldn't be able to resist wringing out this planet for everything it's worth. I'm sure the Neos' just love the idea of an alien civilization, another 'impure' form of life for them to step on. And the PRM can't pass up rooting out our foothold here, wouldn't be surprised if they sent half their fleet here to just make a point." Jeorge replied.

"Fuck it, I say it's Corp! Sure would like to kick some capitalist ass more than we did with these fuckers." Banay growled as he looked about.

Malcolm checked how his helmet was sitting on his head in a nearby shop window, tightening up his straps to make sure everything sat still. He wiped away a small smudge of dirt that had gotten on his pale upper lip, below his orange, bio-luminescent freckles.

"Oh! Oh, Joy! Try not to shit yourself too bad with your major man-gasm, but look what's here!" Banay called in excitement.

Malcolm turned about, not after he felt a steady pulse of quakes that rocked his feet. He peered up to see an Ogre power-suit striding past him and his squad, a twenty foot tall mech of dark armour. It's limbs were powerful hydraulic rams and heavy gear assemblies, its cockpit situated in what could be recognized as the machines 'chest'. In many ways the Ogre was just an enhanced version of a trooper made real with robotics. It held aloft a giant one hundred and sixty caliber chain-gun as a trooper would hold his thirty caliber rifle, upon its back sat a quad-pod missile launcher and around its torso were attached ammo pouches. Malcolm had always wanted to achieve his pilot license for the battle suit, eagerly awaiting his year-long service threshold so he could apply for one. The power and boundaries that fell down when within such a machine was not something that held appeal to the private, it was the solitude. Just him, no one else, locked up within the machine, leaving him time and quiet enough to really think about things, to perceive things around him. That, and three inches of titanium armour plate didn't hurt either.

"Can't wait for the day when I get to shut your annoying as hell voice out inside one of those." Malcolm said in his daydreaming.

"Sure, so instead you can concentrate on the sound of rail-gun rounds rattling around you. Nice and peaceful." Banay sing-songed in a sarcastic tone.

"It will be leagues better than hearing you."

As the Ogre passed them and stomped off to the towns' edge a nearby door creaked open. Banay and a couple other shot to attention, their rifles swinging to a semi-raised position as their arms tensed up.

"Really, Ben? Really?" Malcolm grunted, his arms helplessly hanging at his sides.

"Not my fault I'm staying ready in case of another Appleoosa." Whispered Banay.

From the door stepped out a grayish, lilac mare of an athletic build, light blue and white mane that made her appear to be moving at the speed of sound, matching tail and a pair of wings. Behind her came another female pegasus who must have been the first mares' sister, her coloration being slightly lighter, yet her light blue mane was longer and flowed down her neck. Both wore loose-fit vests and daisy duke denim shorts. The first mare wore a single thigh-high, blue and white striped stocking, quite the perplexing fashion choice to any human. The pair sheepishly approached the troopers, a cluster of ponies peering out from the door they had emerged from.

"Uh, excuse me, but a few of us were wondering-" The first mare began.

"That's close enough, now keep your hands where we can see them." Ben barked at them, sending a flinch through the girls.

"Ok, sure. Just, we were wondering what's going on?"

"What's it to you?"

"Well, um, this is our home." The second mare replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Ben said as he fully raised his carbine.

"N-n-nothing! I didn't mean anything! But don't we have the right to know why these machines are doing in our streets?" The second mare pleaded.

"Banay, go sit down somewhere and think happy thoughts." Malcolm sighed as he passed his squad-mate.

"Everyone else is shut away in there homes like they know they should be, so what makes these fuckers so different? What have they gotta know that nobody else has to?!" Ben growled in reply, Joyman ignoring him.

"Sorry ladies, but every command hub is calling for forces in every city to bulk up. Until reinforcements are dismissed it's going to be a little noisy." Malcolm shrugged.

"Ugh, do you have any idea when that'll be?" The first mare asked.

"Can't tell. We aren't even sure as to why we're here."

"That's a negative, private. We know exactly why we're here." Ben countered.

"Oh really, private? Enlighten me then." Malcolm asked in return, heatedly.

"Well, after all the trouble in Canterlot, we're here to make sure no one else steps out of line." Hissed Banay.

"Sure, and that's, what, official intel? Straight from the top?"

"It's the only reasonable explanation."

"W-w-well, we couldn't help but hear something about 'Major Crop', or something. Is that something we should worry about?" The first mare asked gingerly.

"You see! Sneaky little fucks are spying on us!" The private thrusted the barrel of his weapon at the ponies to emphasize his words.

"No! We just overheard after things went quiet a while!" The mare said as she backed away.

"Ben. Fuck-off!" Malcolm said as clear as he could.

The private kept his eyes fixed on the mares from behind his goggles, paced about for a second and finally wandered back to the ammo crates his squad was gathered next to.

"Look, it's best not to ask questions right now. No one's sure what exactly is happening, but I'm sure you guys'll be fine if you just stay in your homes for now."

"Ok, sure, thanks." The first girl said with a crooked smile before they both scurried back into their hideout, leaving the private free to walk back to his squad.

"Say, dumbass, why are you like that?" He spat at Ben.

"Because it keeps them scared. Scared horses are good horses." Ben replied.

"They're ponies. And let's not spread the bullshit too thin, why are you really that mean? You don't have to be, I mean, these guys are already scared as hell already."

"Fine, you want to know why I'm mean, why this whole fucking place rubs me the wrong way? Because it's dumb, it's all stupid as fuck, a dumb fuckin' fairy-tale! It may be hard to believe, but throughout school, I was the star biscuit. I showed up early, I worked hard and let the lessons sink in deep. For my whole life I learnt that facts are facts, that science and maths is what's true and solid. I couldn't stand those damn lessons about how people used to believe in stupid stories, how they used to read that shit to kids, man. They read that crappy stuff to kids for fun! And after all that, all I needed was to spend a couple years in the infantry to get a good gold stamp for a nice ass college in the Vekta sector, or at least the best back home on Requiem. I work hard and I get good stuff in return, that's how everything happened. Until I came here. Until the army dropped me on fairy-tale central where I'd be put on a shitty roller-coaster ride of pretty-pony-princesses and stupid magical creatures that make-no-sense!"

"It's not fair, ok! It's not fucking fair that we, the UTF, have to work hard, innovate, advance ourselves to gain success, and these dumb fucks just sit back on their magic flower beds and just let 'magic' solve everything! Now they get to work for their shit! Now they get to give and take. No more magic! No more stupid fairy shit!"

Malcolm gave the physical impression he'd just been hit by gale-force winds, his eyes wide and expression blank.

"I think I smell magic-envy." The private half giggled.

"Oh, sure, just brush it off. That's what we where taught to do as kids. Whenever a question comes up, just ignore it and stay happy. Say, that sounds awful familiar, Joyman, maybe you belong here with these dumb animals."

After that, Banay simply stormed off, leaving Malcolm a little overwhelmed, but for the most part unshaken. Obviously his own Europa roots mirrored that of Bens' Requiem heritage. Back home there was a very noticeable Planets Rights Movement presence, keeping the whole planet tight under UTF surveillance. School was more casual, kids were a bit more rough-and-tumble than that of more 'developed' colonies, taxes were a hell lot lower than many other worlds and UTF presence was fairly low. Things were a bit more laid back on Europa, sure they didn't cook up ten ships a months and they still mostly relied on wheeled transport rather than that floaty stuff the UTF came up with. In many ways, other UTF worlds saw Europa as the lazy, slackers of the federation.

"So, I can take it you don't quite like it here?!" Malcolm chuckled out loud to Ben, who ignored the tickled private.

A sudden, but visible movement caught the troopers' attention. A quick absence of light that had once been within an alleyway. Malcolm took a full tenth of a second to try and convince himself he didn't notice anything. After hat failed, he spent the next tenth of a second trying to convince himself he couldn't possibly know what it was he saw. After that failed, he tried convincing himself there was nothing he could do to intervene with the situation at hand.

Aw hell!

"Hey, sarge. Thought I saw something back here, gonna go take a look, sir." He radioed to his CO.

"Fine, but make it quick."

Malcolm took a deep breath in and out again before heading off into the alleyway. In caution of what he suspected the situation to be, he slung his rifle, fixing it to his magnetic plate. He came to the edge of the first alleyway, coming to a T-junction. The trooper took a right in the direction the shadow had moved in, carefully advancing as to not get caught unawares. He quickly brought up his left goggle lens to his eye to peer at his motion tracker, finding no targets present. He kept his ears on alert for any noise beyond the sound of soldiers and their machines in the background, but still nothing. Malcolm began to wonder if he'd just imagined it, or maybe it was just a stray animal of some sort.

Probably just a bird

Malcolm dropped his tension and decided it was better to be safe than sorry, and the next corner was just a couple of steps away. However something else caught Malcolms' attention, some disfigurement on the wall to his right. It was wording, badly painted graffiti of some kind. Taking a step back he could see them to be big, bold, dark crimson words painted onto the wall, spelling out a very simple message.

REMEMBER APPLEOOSA

Malcolm felt that same tug in his chest, like someone had plucked at his spine, causing his chest to tighten and his expression to drop. He hadn't been around when Appleoosa had been burnt off the face of the planet, but his whole platoon had been taken there on his second day here. Dark, charcoal skeletons of what used to be homes and buildings stood amongst a field of ash and deep craters. At one point Malcolm had strained his eyes to see something he wish he didn't, something that had sealed his stance on what was happening on Epona. A figure, presumably a female native, burnt and broken crouching behind what was once some kind of barn. Her arms were wrapped around something small and for the most part unseeable, but Malcolm was far from stupid, he knew what was within her arms by the way she clutched desperately to it.

Yeh...the few for the many....sure...

Malcolm sighed, knowing he'd rather see the inside of a cell than be behind one of the triggers that wiped away Appleoosa from existence. He wondered what whack-job actually had such little heart as to give the go-ahead for such an operation. The trooper backed away lazily, backing towards the next corner before turning into it. His face hit something.

Boobs!

"Ah! Fuck!" Malcolm blurted as he stumbled backwards, taking a second to steady himself before he looked up at whatever he'd just wandered into.

The mare was huge considering what one would expect from a female Equestrian. She pushed the term 'towering' as her six foot two frame vastly exceeded Malcolms own five-seven. Malcolm wasn't particularly tall, but this girl made him feel minature, excessively so when taking into account her muscle mass was easily triple the troopers. Her blonde mane was a river of gold that flowed from her head and was choked away by a red band, along with her tail. Malcolm spent but fleeting moment taking into account her figure, one he had experienced first hand/face just a second ago. However what was hard to ignore was her face. Her scowl, her fiery eyes of deep emerald framed by dark lashes leading to a deep orange coat twisted into an image of dense hatred for what she looked upon. Such a look Malcolm had gotten used to over the two weeks he'd known about this mare, the first meeting they'd had was him studying her 'wanted for questioning' page on his data pad. Their first official meeting, he'd nearly put holes in her as he watched her pulling apart the support links around a communication disk. He had certainly considered making he a lot dead-er, but in the end a mixture of fear and pity had kept his finger off the trigger.

"Ahem." Applejack coughed.

"You can-not be doing that shit! What if it wasn't me who'd....run into you." Malcolm sputtered.

"Please. Ah can smell you pasties a mile off. What's happenin'?" The mare demanded.

"Getting a lot of that today." Malcolm mused.

AJ raised an eyebrow and took a step forward, "You start talkin', or we gon' have a lil' session lak we done the second time we met."

"Right, right! I got you! No twisted vertabrae needed here. Short of it is, I dunno. We dunno." Malcolm shrugged.

"Come on now, pasty, yah'll better not be holdin' out on me." She took another step forward and cracked her wide-set knuckles.

"Whoa, fuck! I'm telling the truth! I mean, seriously, can't you trust the one guy who isn't out to put your head on a stick?"

"Can't be trustin' none ah yah'll."

"Really? You know how much troouble I would get in if someone saw us here, right now? I'd be looking at years, AJ, years locked up. Or worse. And if I'd wanted to rat you out I would have done it a long, long time ago."

"Well, yah'll be forgivin' me if ah have trouble takin' your whole 'writing wrongs' story a little weak."

"What exactly will it take for you to trust me, just me?" Malcolm asked as he flew up his arms just to drop them again.

"Yah'll not bein' here." AJ replied blandly.

"Well I happen to be with you in regards to that ideal, but I wouldn't hold your breath. Whatever's got us all out here has the fleet spooked. I'd say it was an incoming enemy fleet, but we'd be informed of it to have tactical initiative. From what I can tell, the fleet must know as little about whatever's freaking them out as we do."

"So wait a sec', you're tellin' me your big, scary spaceships you lahk tah scare us with on posters are scared of something themselves? That is all kinds'a' rich right thar." Applejack seemed to find that idea tickled her a fair bit.

"Yeh, seems so." Malcolm murmured.

"Well hay, sure wouldn't lahk tah run intah whatever's makin' yah'll jumpy and such. Heck, they might just go ahead an' finish the job yah'll started with Appleoosa." AJs' expression turned from amused to stone cold in a frightening space of time.

"Right. I assume that's your handy work right there?" Malcolm asked as he shot a thumb at the graffiti behind him.

"Lahk the color? Remind yah of anythin'?"

"Yeh, just haven't seen much of it myself."

"Yah'd say that, wouldn'tcha?" AJ hissed.

"The fuck do you want from me?!"

Malcolm was flung back against the wall as AJs' significant mass hit him like a bolt of lightning. The large mare pinned him against the rust colored brick work, her right arms flexed with the elbow braced against the wall. Her chest pressed firm against his collar, all of it.

"Ah want you to spill all the beans on your lil' operations in mah town. I want you to give me every last word every lil' birdy tells yah. Then ah wanna become such a big pain in the flank for yah'll that yah high-tail it on back up intah the sky an' stay there!" AJ ended up roaring the last sentence at point blank range of Malcolms' face, her eyes burning into his.

"It won't work....will it? I get what you want, and in many ways I want that too. But you are one girl against an army of millions. It is, to me at least, the greatest miracle of our time that you haven't been caught yet. But one day they will catch you, they will hurt you and they will make an example of you. And as much as I want to help you, I can't stop that from happening."

Applejack pressed herself off of the trooper and wandered backwards a couple of steps.

"Then that's when ah go tuh Plan B." She said, her eyes falling down to gaze at the ground beneath her.

"Joyman! Where the fuck are you?!" Fellks barked over the radio channel.

"Sorry, sir, just being thorough. Headed back now." Malcom turned his attention away from AJ to focus on keeping his words steady, "AJ, I gotta get going or I'm in deep shi-"

AJ was nowhere to be seen, seemingly having melted into the earth or some equal feat of a disappearing act.

"Damn. Stay safe, cowgirl."

9 - The 'Talk'

"It's an alloy unlike we've seen in common metallic elements. In fact, it shares more similarities with mineral elements, most notably diamond, than any metal. This is most likely why they refer to this composition as 'Adamantium'. Yet, despite how its molecular structure is a mirror image of a diamonds, it has a fiber makeup that gives it the ability to be flexed and retain its integrity even after being misshapen. It's the perfect battle-plate element." Natalie chattered as she swished her fingers through the air to cast away and bring forth different holographics.

"Great. How do we make it?" Commander Mula asked.

"We don't. I can't even begin to pick apart its molecular makeup, and deeper scans come back with zip. It's down to this stuff why we're finding it hard to get a clean scan on these guys armour, tech and their ship. I'll set aside a small team to start picking at this, but we have more pressing questions."

"Like what?" Asked Mason.

"How is it a species that has come from at least two hundred light-years away looks like us, walks like us and talks like us? How come they resemble a military system that dates back thousands of years? Why do their weapons, every scrap of technology seem to be revered under some deep religious significance? Why would whatever society they are a part of need to create soldiers like them? What would they be fighting?" The doctor emphasized.

"They're some kind of nutty, power-hungry cult?" Mula added.

"Nutty; Most definitely. Power-hungry; I'm not convinced. Though certainly some of these soldiers seem to exhibit body language and mannerisms that would indicate a deep predatory and dominant subconscious state, many of what I've identified as the older, more experienced ones seem to have honed their behavior to become less temperamental, far more clear-minded. I would imagine this is part a deliberate method of personal growth, part side-effect of the need to better suit themselves of their more intense battlefield position. A clearer, sharper mind makes for better warriors."

"Sounds like these guys really know their stuff. They sure don't look like the breed you'd want to tango with, and that's coming from me." Said Theo.

"You see why I called you up here?" Asked Mason.

"Yes, sir. Could tell it was an urgent call, it's just hard to tell what's going on when everyone is keeping so 'hush-hush' planet-side. When are we letting the troops on the ground know about all this?"

"Not yet, a couple days maybe, after we know more about these things. It's all a bit much for the troops to take in right now, half of them can barely get their heads around Equestria itself, let alone all of...well...whatever the hell this is." Replied Mason, his words muffled as he chewed his index finger in frustration at everything that had happened.

"Even after such a close encounter you're still convinced they are just some random alien race that just happens to look human?" The doctor huffed as she folded her arms.

"I'll give you it's far too weird to simply be a coincidence."

"There's no such thing as coincidence, General." Natalie replied as if she spoke to a child.

"Yeh, well, there's a lot of things that 'shouldn't exist' running around lately, so you'll excuse me if I decide to rest my brain on the 'Coincidence Cushion'." Mason groaned.

The door to the officers meeting room slid open as Dragovich stormed in, his expression and body language screaming aloud how something had upset him...bad.

"That alien govnyuk lied to me! There's nothing on that ship, not a damn thing that makes any fucking sense!" The general roared.

"Your team's been in there for an hour, you must have scooped up something interesting by now." Natalie whined.

"IT'S JUST A GIANT, FUCKING, CHURCH!" Roared Dragovich.

"Settle down! Aside from deep tech and weapons what else have you dug up?" Asked Mason.

"Fuckers speak English, as you all know, and an obscure form of Latin. The love writing about all kinds of shit, like 'Honor' and 'Sacrifice'. It's retarded stuff really."

"What else?" Mason was growing tired of Dragovichs' attitude.

"They love referring to some 'Emperor' they have, leads to believe these guys really have gone all-out in terms of building a backwards-ass culture."

"Ok, Doctor, looks like you're up," Mason sighed as he turned to Natalie, "I need you to put on a big smiley face and-"

Mason was interrupted as another figure marched through the door, this time a junior science team member dressed in pale lab-clothing and carrying a data pad.

"Oh, sorry. Doctor, the results are back." The young man said before turning to scamper back out the room.

"A match," Natalie said as her expression filled with awe, "A ninety eight percent DNA match on all biological fields. Most certainly a deep ancestry links our two species, without a doubt! But there's something so different about them, like stuff has been mapped over their original genetic code, it's almost like biological software patches."

"Great! Ok! Natalie, just...just go talk to humanitys' 'big brother' and find out what you can about them without stirring up any shit." Mason shot up, more than ready to leave it to the eccentrics to do their digging while he caught some rest.

"Sure, no problem." Natalie replied in a snide tone.

"No more than an hour. I also need to interview the marines." Added Dragovich.

"Sure, fine." Mason knew that by 'interview' the general actually meant 'interrogation', but he was far too tired, spread far to thin to summon the energy to care. He'd let his fellow general make his mistakes, let him learn from them so he wouldn't have to keep covering for Dragovichs' shortcomings.

He was going to bed.

The mess hall was ghostly quiet beside the deep thunder of the occasional moving space marine. The normal occupants had been declined entry to make room for the large soldiers. The sound was not one Natalie had been familiar with when in such a place, normally she'd expect the drone of chatter between hundreds of individuals, the clatter of cutlery and chorus of footsteps. Well, there were footsteps alright, and each one sounded like someone had just dropped a tank on the floor. Natalie tried her best to block out the consistently surprising sound and turned her attention to her data pad, gathering her thoughts to begin her questioning.

"So, Captain, lets start with the small stuff. How did you get here?" Asked the doctor.

"My ship engaged an emergency warp jump to escape a...difficult situation. After assessment, I deemed I had to preserve our cargo rather than face a glorious demise." The giant man remained standing, most probably due to how his immense weights would collapse the metal bench Natalie was perched upon.

"Ah, yes, you see now that brings up two further questions. The first is, what exactly happened before you made the jump? We found...things aboard your ship, all dead. And second, what is the significance of this 'relic'? It's...well...just a piece of parchment, an old rag of torn cloth with some calligraphy written on it." The doctor inquired.

"The creatures aboard my ship are of no concern of yours, I assure you. They will not be pursuing us at this distance. Just simply know them as something your people may want to worry about once you have become more acquainted with us. The relic is of deep sentimental significance. Such significance that renders my life and the lives of my brethren utterly disposable when concerning its safety. Your scientists have had their fill of observing it, but from this point onward it will remain with us."

"Ok, well, firstly; good to hear that those things won't be following us. Although if you could submit a minor report on the subject to our archives it would be appreciated."

"Understood, I shall consider it." The captain waved off.

"And second, I'm...heh, I'm sorry but it simply doesn't make sense that you would make such an outstanding effort to keep a piece of cloth safe, especially over living, breathing people. I mean, seriously, it's just...a...um...well..." Natalie shrunk away as the captains expression grew tense and fierce, it was like someone was holding a shotgun to her face.

"The relic is sacred, apparently so much as to surpass your comprehension. It remains with us, it is to be unblemished. You shall cease you irritating inquiries, it tires me." Natalie took firm note that the captain held the reigns here, she was just along for the ride.

"Gotcha, great. Uhm, so on the whole 'sacred' subject, your ship is rustling some jimmies with the salvage and surveillance teams. It's, well, kind of a church, right? Quite the impressive decorative display."

"Our ships require an anchor when in warp transit, a point from which to direct our travel through warp-space. The gargoyles, glyphs and shrines offer such an anchor and ward off unwanted energy signatures."

"I'm sorry, but the whole decor thing is, what, functional?" Natalie blurted.

"Quite." Replied the Astarte.

The doctor simply sat looking at the soldier, hoping he'd burst into laughter at his jest. Yet no laughter came, only the stony visage of the aged warrior presenting itself. The theory he had presented to her was ridiculous, just plain stupid. The possibility that somehow these soldiers had gone insane through one method or another became an ever more significant theory.

"So, anyway, where do we go from here? What would your next step be?"

"We need to use your communications array to contact the Imperium. Once I deliver our coordinates a retrieval craft will collect us. However, I must express how my brothers and I would appreciate being delivered planet-side so that we may grant the relic a less 'alien' environment than what your craft presents. Before we left a low-yield scan of the planet below revealed a number of more than optimal environments we would be happy to occupy." The captain presented, his tone lifted by his appeal to the world that spun below them.

"Ah, right. Well that really is something you should take up with the commanding generals. Although...not to damp your hopes, but don't hold your breath. Mason could be persuaded to let you 'phone home'," Natalie mentally broke ribs laughing at her jokes, " But just watch what you say around Dragovich. He's all for following through with protocol to draw out stuff in his favour. If you tell him what you plan to do, you could be stuck here a while."

"We'll see, Doctor."

Natalie flinched internally. She hoped the captain wouldn't butt-heads with the general, it could cause a lot of problems, for her and everyone else on this ship.

"Just, wait until you see Mason." The doctor said before she turned to see Dragovich walking into the mess hall, accompanied by...no one.

"Time's up, Doctor. Captain, if you'd like to follow me." Dragovich announced before abruptly turning to head back out the hall.

"I would not." Viktur said simply as Natalie got up from the bench.

"I invite you onto my ship and you still don't trust me?" The general asked with a raised brow.

"General Mason invited me onto this ship, a ship under the command of the officer of darker flesh I saw when coming aboard. So indeed, I do not trust you." Viktur replied in a deep drone.

"I'm sure I can put your suspicions to rest. Let us talk, commander to commander. I'm sure we can come to a firm arrangement." Dragovich said is something of an over-sincere tone.

"Very well. Ivanhar, to me!" Viktur called his sergeant over as he took a couple of steps to meet him.

Natalie had begun to make her way to the halls exit, however she was still within earshot of the space marines, more than twice as close to them as Dragovich was.

"Prepare for the situation to escalate." Viktur said in a hushed tone, Ivanhar nodding in confirmation.

In just a few steps the marine passed Natalie and headed towards the general. She couldn't help but get a bad, twisting feeling in her gut. A feeling like something bad was going to happen.

The room was well lit, giving Viktur something of an uneasy haze to his perception. He much preferred the dim-set lighting of his own ship, the incense choked corridors and the solid ceramite. Instead he was surrounded by bright grey walls with built in light panels. Everything was clean and simple of shape, so uninspired, so bland and absent of history. Imperial ships were built of proud visage, all built not only as valiant star-born carriage or engine of devastation, but as a living story. Each vessel, every fortress, each set of armour and every weapon was its own personality with its own adventure, its own tale to tell. The instruments of the Imperium, from the commonplace troopers sidearm to the colossal Titan war-machines, sang a song of its unnatural life. Nothing in this room sang, it was as if he was standing alone in the middle of a desert.

Well, not entirely alone, to his displeasure.

The smug creature that called itself a man sat before him. His head was shaven, his eyes dark and brow heavy. His jaw was strong and his expression was that of a mind with a plan. Viktur could see the general was going to play games with him, but the captain didn't play games. Games were for children.

Viktur felt uncomfortable around this being, this shadow of a human. Humanity had long ago given up its need for trivial pursuits in exchange for ultimate purpose, freedom through service to the Emperor. Every human had been altered to be a living weapon while bio-mechanical workers offered their hands to push the war effort onward. So what were these people? Had the Imperium missed a colony when the Gathering had been initiated? Had that colony survived and thrived on its own? Such an event was a dire blow the surety the Imperium had always been so proud of, something that defined them as masters of their own fate.

However such queries and worries had to wait, and did not belong within the mind of an Astarte captain. No doubt the Inquisition would busy themselves for a lifetime with the research into this anomaly, and Viktur knew it was best he did not worry himself over matters that were not his to fuss over.

"So, Captain, let's talk about your situation. Quite the series of dire events from what I hear." Dragovich said casually.

"And what do you hear, General?" Viktur asked.

"Many things, Captain. I hear your people are in a conflict of some kind, no doubt with those animals aboard your ship?"

"I despise the Denti as much as any Astarte. I have grown a deep and rich hatred for them for many days recently. But even I owe them the recognition they deserve. And they are not to be recognized as merely animals, General." Viktur growled.

"Oh? They certainly look like animals to me. Anyway, the federation has taken note of his 'pest-control' struggle and would like to help. As a sign of cooperation between our societies. Surely we can learn many things from one another." Dragovich said, leaning back a slight.

"Do you speak on behalf of your federations leaders?"

"Well, you could say I'm using my initiative here." The general chortled.

"Then I can assure you that they would think it most unwise for you to make such an offer." The captain stated with narrow eyes.

"Oh please, I'm sure the federation would most certainly be more than happy to lend a hand, especially against an enemy force that doesn't even wield firearms. Surely you could do with the extra ordnance?"

"You mean the ordnance that took two hits just to knock on one of our doors? I feel such weaponry would be less than sufficient to deal with our adversaries."

"Look who's talking. Your kind still uses shell-based projectiles and even flamethrowers. It evident you require superior firepower on your side. Think of how much shorter your campaigns will be cut by." The general said, now leaning in and onto the steel table Viktur stood before.

"Indeed, the campaign would be extremely short." Viktur admitted, cocking his head.

"You see, now you're thinking logi-"

"For you."

Viktur cut the general off, stopping him mid-word and locking into his gaze.

"I see what you wish to do, General. You wish to initiate a bargain between us where you 'aid' us in our 'struggle' in exchange for what I can imagine is answers to the many questions that have arisen at our arrival here."

"I made no such claims." Dragovich countered.

"It pains you, to not have the answers. You have lived your lives under the udder of the universe, and with every tug comes more answers to every question before you. You have grown comfortable, and fragile within what you have considered an infallible system. And now that udder you have so vigorously relied upon has run dry, and the only thing you can do now is move to me. Well know that this is not the time nor place for such menial concerns." Viktur said in a harsh tone.

"Menial? Menial?! It is no surprise you are so technologically backwards when you consider science and logic 'menial'!" Dragovich growled.

"Your 'science'...your 'logic'? In time you will come to learn how little it all means. How fewer answers can be gained by following the rules this reality strikes down before us. You will not face the Denti. You will not face the Orcoids, you will not face Dracta nor the Shryll. And you will not face us." Viktur leaned forwards, his face twisting into a fierce image.

"What you will do, however, is you will speak with General Mason."

"Sure. I'll go fetch him. You just wait right here." Dragovich complied with Viktur far too easily, and to the captain this was cue that something was wrong.

Viktur knew something had been initiated, a trigger had been set off, but he needed to find out what. The Astarte set his attention within himself for no longer than a single heartbeat, taking in everything he could experience. His long, nutritious breath he was taking in and the rush of the scrubbed air that rushed into his lungs. His heart as it began to shift its effort into sucking blood back into its receiving chambers. His veins as they threw his blood through his body. His muscles in his hand burning as he begun to clench his fists. His attention imploded and threw itself outwards into the room he was in, reaching out to touch every detail.

Twelve feet wide

Sixteen feet long

Nine feet tall

Still air

Fine-filter vents on ceiling, four spaced three feet from one another about the center

Table, steel, stainless, fine polyester mesh skin

Chair, plastic smell, same as table

Floor integrity, unarmored, titanium beams supporting steel tiles and wire-work

Four extra heartbeats

Four extra breathes

Relaxed

Two behind, two in front, each designated to a corner of the room

Footsteps, four sets, synchronized

Nicely rehearsed, but the Captain wanted a live performance. He kept his demeanor placid, still and loose as to not give away anything out of the ordinary. He needed his own element of surprise, one that could by him the edge over four individuals with artificial camo. He needed only words.

"Before we begin, does anyone want to get out?" Viktur said in a calm, level tone.

The steps stopped, the light taps that would have normally gone unnoticed by the common ear ceasing for a moment.

"We're not here to hurt you. But if you threaten us we will use force to subdue you." A strange, digitized voice came from thin air.

"I am leaving this damned ship, one way or another." Viktur growled through clenched teeth.

"Not until you give us answers. Until then any unauthorized action will be considered a threat against the federation." The voice growled back.

"It's good to know you scare easily."

Viktur had no more than a moment. The invisible soldier had revealed himself well enough just by talking, and the Astarte could begin. No blood, not today, not yet. With the effort a mortal would present to lift a game remote the marine latched his grip upon the side of the table beneath him and launched the metal platform over his left shoulder. Metal struck some form of energy cushion as a purple light flared from behind the table. Viktur threw himself forward into a half-crouch and pulled at one of the tables twisted legs, flinging it into the opposite corner of the room with a similar effect as the first collision. The soldier was now fully revealed and was dazed by the sudden impact that would have powderized any un-shielded man. Viktur extended his arm and threw his fingers out in an almost gesture like manner that threw the soldier into the corner he had come from, this time un-shielded. The soldiers skull bounced off each wall the corner was made from before falling to the floor in an unconscious mess. All this had taken just over half a second of time, enough to alert his companions.

Viktur spun about to travel to the nearest corner, the one to the right, to deliver a blow at chest-level with the soldier he hoped was there. Indeed the blow struck true, but instead landed on the soldiers shoulder, spinning him about, twisting his legs to see him fall messily on the floor. Such a mishap was inexcusable, and would pay with dear consequence. Running out of time the captain launched himself into the opposite corner just as the soldier with the table in front of him pushed away the bent metal panel. He extended his palm out and caught the next soldier dead center of the chest, throwing him back against the wall with boots in the air. The soldier next to Viktur had cleared himself of his obstruction and had nearly fully raised his rifle, his camo having failed him after being struck by the makeshift missile. Viktur threw his hand to his chainsword that remained fastened to his belt. In an almost instantaneous manner he primed the weapon a millisecond before pulling upon the ignition trigger. Adamantium teeth spun angrily upon the swords edge, the roar of the weapon shifting in tone around Viktur as he swung the sword wide. The mono-molecular mini-blades carved clean through the far softer metal of the firearm, chewing apart the weapons body.

A spark spat out just as the blade left its target, one that sent up warning lights all over Vikturs brain. Before the Astarte could think another word the weapon detonated with the force of a grenade, blasting the soldier against the wall with terrifying force and showering Viktur with metal shrapnel, forcing his eyes shut a moment and turning his head a single digit degree. The flash of the detonation cleared and the soldier that had held the weapon was on the floor, no doubt with a fractured hand. These soldiers must have been using magnetically charged weapons, a very flashy, but also very volatile method of launching ammunition. This could well be valuable tactical information.

With another couple of steps Viktur brought himself over the floored soldier and grabbed his battle-dress, throwing his weapon away from him. He looked about himself and found what he had hoped so deeply for. Three of the rooms walls were a flat, matte grey, aside from one. One was the exact same to the untrained eye, but to the enhanced eye of an Astarte, revealed itself to be something else. Its hexagonal patterning, a near invisible pattern upon the grey of the surface, was the tell-tale sign that it was in all likelihood an observation window. Yet, there was only one way to be sure. Viktur waited a few seconds for the soldier he grasped to have his shields recharge before dragging him over to the 'wall'. All the while the soldier stabbed wildly at the captains wrist with a tactical knife, yet the comparatively small blade failed to pierce the plasteel segments of the writ joint of his power armour. Viktur dropped the soldier for a quarter of a second before scooping his hooded and masked head up in his palm and slamming it against the wall of interest. Upon impact, silvery, shining cracks appeared around the dark head of the soldier. The soldier was deeply dazed, his mind knocking off the walls of his skull but remained alive and conscious, but was once again un-shielded. Viktur brought the teeth of his chainsword about to come to the soldiers chest.

"Door!" He roared.

"Your plan is flaw-ACK!" The dark soldier winced as the teeth dug in through his armored chest and into the flesh beneath.

"Door, now, or he dies!"

"Viktur, calm down, I was just getting Mason and we can just talk, okay?" Dragovich called from the speaker built into the room.

Viktur was tired of playing verbal chest, perhaps some blood was needed after all. The chainsword revved as the blade spun up, carving away the soldiers armour and cutting just before the bone at his chest, the soldier yelling out in pain as his blood began to run down his chest.

"Okay! Okay! I'll open the door and we can talk, right!? We can just talk!" Dragovichs voice was strained with stress as the door flew up into the ceiling, revealing an entrance that would have gone unseen had the door been left closed. Viktur wasted no time and marched out the room and into a clean looking corridor.

"Brothers, to my position. The situation has escalated." Viktur ordered through his mic.

Dragovich ran around the corner in front of Viktur along with a dozen armed soldiers who all had weapons raised and aimed at the Astarte.

"Come on now, Captain, your soldiers have remained unharmed. This is a very drastic act on your part." Dragovich said cautiously, his hands raised.

"I am out of options, General, the relic must be seen safe and in a stable environment. You and your men have made it clear how this is not to be made possible without expressing answers that you will fail to understand anyway, so I opted for an alternate method of resolution."

"What, by harming my men!?"

"I am a space marine, it is my profession to harm. More often it is to kill. Which would you prefer I do?"

"What do you want!? You want to be dropped off on the planet!? You know I can't do that!"

"Perhaps not, but I can." Viktur growled just as his brethren rounded the corner behind him, weapons loaded.

"Captain!" A marine called out.

"Detraction!" Viktur replied.

Bolt shots burst within the walls all around the soldiers before Viktur, chunks of metals and wire showering the gas masked soldiers who flinched and backed away as their senses were drowned in mayhem. Viktur mentally thanked the fates that his squad had managed to find where the ammo had been stored, and also his brothers for having skill enough to retrieve their rightful equipment. Viktur threw his hostage forward onto the floor and promptly backed away to meet his brother marines. As he reached them a veteran fired up his heavy flamer and filled the corridor just before them with angry flames. The metal of the corridor bent and twisted under the intense heat as the soldiers and Dragovich winced at the furious heat before them. With a precious couple second bought, the marines made their retreat.

"Carvul, auspex?" Viktur barked.

"Bridge located, two kilometers ahead, four hundred meter below us. I've mapped a route through the maintenance corridors that will provide us with an enclosed environment, leaving battle restricted to single-file combat on our part and theirs." The marine replied.

"Well met, but no lives are to be taken today. Discourage adversaries with flamers and distractional fire or incapacitate them in hand-to-hand combat. They are easily overcome." Viktur replied.

"We are to let them live?" Another marine inquired.

"They are not harbingers of evil, just clumsy and narrow sighted. Leave them to their dull little lives."

"Understood, sire."

"Brothers, to the bridge!" Barked Viktur as he, followed by his marines, broke into a sprint.

10 - Mind if we borrow this?

"Genux, pull out those consoles! Henatrex, light the door up once Genux is done!" Viktur barked as the squad backed in through the doorway leading to what he prayed deeply was the bridge.

Both marines called back in confirmation as Genux rushed over to a computer console the size of a small car and tore it free from the wall it was fastened to with a couple of firm tugs. He threw the metal slab in front of the door as it slid shut, the captain just catching a glimpse of dark figures racing towards them. With time enough, Genux threw down the second console atop the first, its broken wires sparking in protest to its relocation. As soon as metal struck metal, Henatrex fired up his heavy flamer, white-hot fire belching over the clean metal of the unholy creations. The metal of the consoles, the door, ceiling above and walls around the door whined and squealed in agony as it twisted and melted together. Over two thousand degree heat gnawed at the steel and titanium, turning the afflicted area a neon orange waterfall of angry heat and tortured sounds. Viktur turned to see the room he had entered, his brothers having already spread out to take occupational positions, holding their attention towards the entrance points. All eight entry ways had been sealed in the same way the first had, promethium flame sealing them shut tight. Directly ahead of the captain was an observational window display, five individual windows set up in a three-dimensional pattern to offer visuals from both in front of the ship and below. Within the large room were dozens, if not a couple hundred computer consoles, bright orange and red holographics flittering, spinning and scrolling above their birth machines. To any mortal race having just set foot outside their own world, it would appear a pristine and admirable display of wondrous technology. To Viktur, it was as rancid as a heap of shit.

"Carvul, what do you make of this?" Asked Viktur as he strode towards the observational windows.

"Bridge, tier three/two technology, all unsanctioned. I only have three viral chips in my auspex, after that we may need to get out and push." The marine replied with a minor humorous inflection.

"Get to it, the occupants are most likely seeking to undo our efforts."

"At once, Captain." Carvul replied as he marched over to a very significant look console towards the center of the bridge, just in front of a holo-table that had warning signs and hazard markings all over it.

"Sir, once we are on the ground, we'll have a damnable time making our way to the holding point on foot. We'll need to locate dense terrain to ensure that being followed is less of a problem." Ivanhar added.

"Of course, initial scans of the planet revealed a significant forest density that could be used to our advantage. Yet our escape is a lesser concern. Sergeant Thenry, to me!" Called out the captain.

"Yes, my lord." The sergeant replied as he reached his commanders side, leaving his initiates to watch over the molten door.

"Your squad shall play a more significant part in the events to come. Wherever we touch down, you and your squad are to find an immediate holding point. A rock slide, forest or swamp, anything to remain hidden in. When I give the order, you are to double back to this ship and send this." Viktur said as he handed them a data slate, a small slab of digital material that appeared almost crystalline.

"Find the comms relay, it will only transmit upon direct upload to the array itself. It can be done?"

"No matter the cost, we'll make it happen, sire." Thenry relied.

"See that you do. Without it, all this shall be for naught."

"Captain, first chip initiated." Carvul called out.

"What have you got?" Replied the captain.

"A moment...nothing. But now I know what to do. It's a multi-skin firewall setup with a minor VI articulator, should be eliminated momentarily.

"Viktur! Viktur, open this door!" A voice called from over the comm channel, the voice of General Mason.

"I am sorry, General, but I cannot do that. We are making planet-fall momentarily, I suggest your crew get to evacuation vessels." Viktur calmly replied.

"Now you listen fucking here, I cleared that bridge for you so we could talk alone, so you could stand down and this stupid-ass charade can be ended! You open this door, and you hand over control of my ship!" The commander yelled.

"The door is sealed, General. There is nothing more you can do." Viktur replied.

"It's just an old rag, Viktur!"

"It's just an old FUCKING rag!" Mason hammered his fists against the burnt and broken door frantically.

"We can re-route control through the upper decks." Muhalah said, his lungs fluttering with nerves.

"Sir, they're spitting in some freaky as fuck computing into the bridges' digital access. I think they're uploading some kind of computer virus." A military technician added while scrolling down his wrist computer.

"Just deploy the countermeasures, they won't be in there for long once we leave them nothing to work with." Mason growled.

"I don't think that's going to work, Mason. Second virus just walked over our firewall without lighting up any data, they have control over five hundred square meters of ship systems." Dragovich said as he too peered at his wrist computer.

"You lock down every system on the communication deck, don't let them get to it!" Mason barked as he spun about to look at the officers behind him.

"I don't think they're going for the antennae, General." The technician replied.

Suddenly a quake rocked through the ship followed by the low groan of straining metal.

"The fuck is that?!" Mason yelled.

Another tremor rose through the hull that shook violently at the knees of the officers and troopers around Mason.

"The fuck is this?!" The general roared.

"Engines are fired up! Both primary thrusters are lit and rising to full thrust! Sir, the initiation boosters aren't active, this ship wasn't designed to be flown like a damn torpedo!" The technician cried in panic.

"No! Stop! Be gentle with her!" Muhalah yelled as he pounded on the door behind Mason.

"Mason. Mason, my friend, I am sorry. This is my fault. I pushed this too far and now...now I don't know what to do." Dragovich admitted, his arms falling to his side.

"Not now Sol, let's just get this door open." Mason huffed.

"Cutting team's here, sir." A trooper announced as a three man team jogged up with a tripod mounted cutting arm.

The team set up there tripod just in front of the door while one man was scanning the door with a digital instrument. Just after a couple seconds of scanning, the trooper let his arms fall and turned to Mason.

"Sir, I dunno what they've done, but there's an extra three feet of door behind this. Gonna take over an hour to get through." The trooper said grimly.

"Oh for fuck-.....Right, we blow it open, right?" Mason blurted.

"With reinforcement like that, gonna need a good football sized Semtex block. Gonna blast through to the decks below and maybe above us as well." The trooper added.

"You're only supposed to blow the bloody door off!" Muhalah yelled in frustration.

"Other doors are the same, General. Will need some real ordnance to break through" Another cutting team radioed in from another entrance point.

"No one starts blowing holes in my ship unless I say so!" The captain began to get quite frantic.

"Calm down! Look, we can counter out the engines by forty percent with the emergency reversal engines. We slow them down and have another cruiser knock out our main engines. We can stop our advance and take all the time we need to cut through." Mason ordered.

"General, I'm sorry, but we'll reach full speed in two minutes. By then it'll take forty five minutes to slow us down enough for another cruiser to get a clean shot at us.And we reach Equestria in just short of twenty minutes. I'm sorry, but they have the edge, and we're headed straight for Equestria." The technician added.

"So what? So what, we just give up? What their doing is wrong and we just give up and let them do it? There must be something we can do?" The general said with cold words chilled with fright.

"We can hope they know which pedal's the brake."

"There'll be enough time before the decryption scripture is silenced to see the reversal engines burn long enough to slow us down for a moderately peaceful landing." Carvul said.

"Moderate?" Asked Viktur.

"This vessel will require a new coat of paint." Shrugged the marine.

"How long is our journey?"

"No more than twenty minutes, sir. However, this vessels navigational system is...unfamiliar to me. I am unsure where we will touch down."

"How unsure?" Inquired Viktur.

"I'm not going to land us in the ocean, if that's what you were thinking, sir. However I will not be able to make comfortable adjustments until two kilometers above the planets surface." Carvul replied.

"That's no more than a few seconds." Ivanhar added with concern.

"Enough for me to make one final adjustment, in case we arrive upon difficult terrain." The marine reassured.

"Very well. As soon as we hit the ground and come to a firm stop I want that glass blown out. It's a three hundred meter drop at the most from here to the bottom of the ship, so we should be in a fitting state to manually disembark. After we have boots on the ground, we head for the most obscure terrain we can visually locate. Beyond that, we will trust in our initiates to see the chapter comes to our aid. We shall succeed, the relic will endure, His will ensures these things." Viktur announced to his brethren, a great chorus of hearty approval coming as a reply.

The hull of the Frontier was being rocked by wave after wave of deep quakes and violent tremors. The shields had held for the reentry, but the internal pressure of the ship having been squashed by its own abrupt advance had taken a toll on systematic integrity. Sparks flew and screens flickered as electronic all around the ship felt the pressure the ship was under. It became evident to every Gaian on board that these Astartes that had commandeered the vessel did not have the crafts well being in mind. They were going to crash the ship, how badly was yet to be seen. Another cruiser, the 'Theoretic conclusion' trailed behind the Frontier, trying had to keep pace, but the Frontier had a head start and was well and truly hasting its way too the surface of Epona.

The vessel made itself level with the planets surface as it broke the atmosphere and found itself within clear view of anyone and anything that might have been below it. The ten kilometer vessel became more and more of a significant object in the sky as it descended, the roaring sound of bludgeoned wind growing louder and louder. To an observer below, the vessels destination would have been a mystery, having them making wild guesses at best. However to one who would have had time and equipment to study the crafts speed and descent, they would find its landing zone would bring it to a halt just before the ash ruins of Everfree. Everfree had once been a lush, if somewhat chaotic forest of strange power and even stranger inhabitants, over five and a half kilometers long five kilometers wide, situated right next to Ponyville. No it was a darkened, black blister upon the face of Equestria, a scoured patch of land utterly devoid of life after the federation deemed the forest too dangerous to remain standing. The frontier burped its reverse thrusters to live just as it closed in on two kilometers above the ground, slowing its absurd speed by enough to see it damaged, but not devastated upon impact. All of Equestria felt the impact, most notably the ground settlements of Las Pegasus, along with the hard-light harvester facilities the federation had set up there. Next, Ponyville was entirely shaken by a low, consistent rumble as the ship ground closer to the small town. Appleoosa shook as well, yet no one was around to feel it beside the few ashen husks that had pieces fall off due to the tremors. The debris and dirt the cruisers bow shoveled outwards filled up the western half of Ghastly Gorge, halving its width. The ship growled and whined as it slowed, grinding painfully to a final halt just a quarter way into Everfree ashes, it's crew firmly knocked about within, say for thirty size individuals who decided to make short work of the cruisers bridge observational windows.

It was quite the odd experience, to be sure, having a scout clinging to a battle brothers power pack. However such a strange display was required unless the captain wished to deal with five scouts breaking their legs upon landing from out the federation cruiser bridge. Enough dirt had been ploughed up from the surface of the planet to offer a gigantic cushion for the marines to land on, shortening their drop to under three hundred meters. A convenience, but not enough to save the scouts the need to use their more experienced brethren as landing aids.

"Thenry, move your scouts to the deeper portion of these wastes. Brothers, to me! There is a mountain towards the north, we shall dig into its shelter and keep our faith firmly in our aspiring initiates! Let's move!" Viktur called out as he broke out into a sprint.

"

"Did you ponies feel that?"

"Oh for the love of Rosetta! Every window! Every dang window!"

"I'm sorry, I just gotta find my daughter!"

"They're attacking! I knew it! Sooner or later I knew they would!"

Ponies all over Ponyville were distraught, or at the very least wildly confused at the almighty series of earthquakes that had shaken their town. Nopony had been hurt, but there was a fair portion of property damage throughout town. Most ponies were locking themselves away in their homes, yet a handful of Pegasi had decided to attempt a flight to Cloudsdale or even Canterlot. These individual were quickly targeted and grounded by the federation troops after being spotted, shortly afterwards being taken into custody for questioning. Twilight would normally have at least attempted at trying to reason with the gas mask wearing brutes, but her attention was firmly fixed on finding the source of the colossal tremor. The princess ran as fast as she could, which wasn't very fast at all seeing as what terrible things sitting and reading books had done to her legs. Even though she was a newly made Alicorn and her physique had been developing daily, she was still lacking enough to be considered athletic, let alone godly.

The princess of magic had quickly change into a more fitting attire than her pajamas, an attire she had gotten rather used to seeing how she was basically laughed off the street by federation troops whenever she wore anything remotely princess themed. But all such worries she normally held in her mind had to be put firmly aside as she rounded the corner of a closed down tailors store to fix her eye towards the Everfree ruins. Sat upon the ocean of ash was a smoking, belly-buried federation craft, its dark gray mass looming high like an inky tidal wave come to consume the small equestrian town. yet the princesses dread of the imposing creation quickly diminished as her mind began to turn, churning out the situation for firm assessment. The vessel was grounded, much like the Pegasi she's seen earlier, metaphorically cuffed up locked in a prison that was the surface of this world. Which meant someone, or something, had put it here. If there was one thing Twilight knew about the federation it was that they loved themselves and their technology with a feverish intensity, so there was no way they'd ground their own ship in such a reckless manner.

Twilight had heard of the UTFs enemies, terrorists and extremists that defied the federation every day with dire acts of violence. Perhaps they were involved? Had war been brought to Equestria? Had these damnable, arrogant, pale-faced freaks finally ruined this land in every way that they could possibly consider? Was Equestria nothing to this race of space faring barbarians? Twilights' expression grew tense at the thought of the final, fragile remnants of the old Equestria being drowned out in one final sweep of blood and carnage. And would the federation lose any sleep over their crimes? Twilight doubted they'd so much as flinch.

But then again, this had come very abruptly. Surely the UTF would start shuffling their pieces about in preparation of a terrorist attack. Surely they would have made more preparation than just pouring more manpower into Equestrias cities. On closer observation of the alien craft, Twilight took note of how the ship had no external blights beside a chewed up belly. The aliens had excessively displayed their devastating weaponry in shameless displays of intimidation, and no such weapons had been used against this creation. Something must have gone wrong, terribly wrong, inside the craft. Not in their technology, the federation trusted their machines more than they trusted their own people. Not in their crew, their was no chance of mutiny and little chance of such vast series of mistakes to see their craft crash land. So something foreign must have been introduced, like a disease of some kind. No, apparently Gaians couldn't get sick due to their super advanced medicine. So something bigger; something much bigger. Some invading force, something able to stand against the entire defensive force of a UTF cruiser and succeed in crashing in to the ground in a manner as to not destroy the vessel. In deep thought Twilight failed to notice the squad of UTF troops advancing on her until they were just a couple of meters ahead.

"Miss Sparkle, return to your home immediately, the federation demands it!" The squad leader said through his ugly looking gas mask.

Twilight gave a quick grin, finally able to have some verbal leverage over these bullies.

"What's the matter, you seem a little shaken? Somepony steal one of your toys?" Twilight asked with a smirk.

The troops tensed up and gripped their weapons tight, a couple even starting to lift their barrels.

"You will comply or you will be deemed a threat to the federation!" The trooper growled.

"Phew, well, if you consider me a threat," She gestured to the crashed cruiser, "You're going to have a bad time dealing with whoever did that." Twilight turned and took off at a slightly speedy trot back to her library. She thought now would be a good time to start boarding up the windows. But not after she got a hold of her friends.

The Frontier was as good as a wreck. The entire belly of the vast ship had been cheese-grated to oblivion, exposing deck after deck. But the worst of it was the ships substructure, which had been shattered beyond a quick fix and was looking at a full revamp of at least two thirds of the ships internals. The hard fact was that this ship was never designed to be crashed, it required a lengthy procedure just to have it break the atmosphere of a planet. The thing was, the UTF always expected to win the fights it got into, and therefore were confident in having time enough after a conflict to salvage any grounded ships and wrecks. But in the middle of a dire situation or military campaign, little could be salvaged from a broken ship besides aircraft, vehicles and equipment. The federations tech was solid, perhaps too solid so much to make it brittle. When something broke, it was breaking bad.

Mason was beyond fuming, beyond rational thought. The federation wasn't beyond making a point for the sake of making themselves feel better, and Mason planned of embodying that quality in every aspect. Funnily enough, Dragovich had taken Masons place in being the rational thinking, the weight of the events that had transpired sitting heavily atop his conscience.

"We get tags on them, track them down to their destination and crack down on them with heavy armour. We ho,d court against them and make them pay by federal law. The federation solidifies its authority to the people by showing no matter who you are, you are not beyond the law. We hold them custody until their empire stumbles upon us and we offer them back under the promise of a treaty, one that they will owe us. We can still make this fall into the right places!....Mason!" Dragovich yelled as Mason marched into a broken hangar bay, sparks flying from broken and exposed cables.

Mason knew exactly who he needed to speak to, he wasn't proud of it, but he knew they'd get the job done in the exact way he needed it done.

"Skeleton squad." He said as he approached the four dark figures who had been helping themselves to some excessive ordnance from the pile of ammo crates.

"General. I hope you have come to give us our next mission." The leader growled.

"Yeh, and I'm sure you'll like it. Chase down the aliens, get in their heads and throw them off track. Make kills wherever you can, but focus of hindering their efforts in whatever way you can." Mason said sternly.

"Don't worry, sir. They'll get what they give, and then some." The 23rd member who had had his chest sliced open hissed as he loaded his shotgun, now fully healed after a session on a medi-bed.

"These things are tough, and by the looks of it they're well trained, but they use primitive tech and their hard to miss. You have free pick of the armory as usual, just make sure to take anti-vehicle weapons." Mason said with a somber tone upon realizing how much firepower this squad would actually need.

"Sure. But personally, I plan one making things a little more personal." The once injured trooper said while spinning his tactical knife in his hand.

Mason would have corrected the trooper, who was obviously becoming blinded by the idea of revenge, but Mason needed to arrange his forces in other locations. Plus, as far as he was concerned these gun-happy morons could get themselves killed in whatever way they felt was best, just as long as they served as a distraction so he could make sure his troops could get prepared. And if Mason was right in thinking the Astartes methods would only escalate, then they would need to be prepared, excessively so. There were going to be a lot of casualties very soon. Mason turned about and quickly made for the slightly askew blast door he had come from, Dragovich still there waiting for him.

"Mason, this is bad, all bad. We engage them in conflicts and there's no going back. And we're looking at a deep resource plunge once we start loosing guys. And headquarter? They're going to jail us if they fail in ion cannoning us from orbit first." Dragovich stressed.

"This isn't a game of remaining in control, Sol. We lost control, heck, I don't think we ever even had it! They had no consideration for us, our ship, our hospitality! Nothing!...Nothing...And they threw it all aside just for some stupid fucking piece of cloth. I'm sorry Sol, but you were right. They're just barbarians. Some degenerated faction from some dying empire from far away. They're a threat to the federation, and need to be destroyed. There's nothing left to salvage from this. Headquarters will just have to understand that." Mason finished glumly.

"We don't have the manpower here to deal with this well, Mason. We have the manpower to deal with defenseless magic ponies who scare easy, but giant metal super soldiers with artillery canons for carbines? We need to call for reinforcements."

"We can handle thirty of them easily."

"And what if more come?"

"You heard their captain, they needed our comms array to call home, and they don't have it. They're isolated here."

"What if more come anyway? What if they come and we are unprepared for them? You saw how one damaged ship crept up on us like that, what if more come, fully armed and operational?" Dragovich inquired, his tone tense.

"Fine. Fine. We'll send for backup in a few hours once we're set on the ground. But for now all efforts go towards becoming utterly solid in holding key areas. Let the troops know they need to be ready, ready for anything."

A decline presented itself before the marines, a slow and gentle slope sliding away like a welcoming carpet leading to a small settlement. They had not been on the march for long, spending only a couple of hours treading through the swamp of broken charcoal with speed. Such devastation to a specific area forced the captain to ponder on what terrible thing these people could have been facing as to force them to use such excessive force. Yet, such a question was not for the now, nor was it his to ask. Instead his mind took a half a second to absorb the sight before him. Tactical opportunity and tools came apparent before him, ideas of counterattack, defensive resolution and hit and run assault came to him in the form of a deep-seeded instinct. He already knew exactly what to do, but a shame hung over his mind. What needed to be done could not be taken back, it could not be forgiven. An Astarte was bred to be death, devastation and war in all its form, made flesh, made life. Yet the purpose of the space marines was to vanquish those threats that knew not of the meaning of future, life or joy. Space marines slayed the soulless, eradicated them with a righteous fury that knew no bounds and stretched beyond reality itself. Yet before him stood living people, strange, lost and fearful, but still very much alive. Most must have had families, many others lovers and some perhaps even children. To kill in such a way was an obvious crime to even the most bloodthirsty Astarte, yet how they dealt with such a crime within themselves was what defined a space marine in many ways. Some pass such acts off a necessary, a shame, but ultimately no action of the Astartes is without good reason. Others took deep penance in such a tragedy, solemnly hanging their heads low and turning their minds to thoughts of repentance in hopes of the sacred spirits laying a hand of forgiveness upon them.

Yet Viktur stood here, knowing what must be initiated, yet taking no joy in it. He would not weep over these people, but he would not sing songs of today.

"Ivanhar, we must see false deeds done. Tell the brethren to ready themselves for combat. No prayers until we reach our destination."

"Is there no way around it?" The veteran asked.

"They will spot us even if we do, and we can ill afford to be pursued. We must to cripple this settlements defenses and make all haste to the mountain roots immediately after." Viktur stroked at the light grey stubble of his shaven head in thought.

"Understood." The sergeant simply replied.

Viktur noticed something not a second after the sergeant had spoken. The settlement at first simply appeared odd to the captain, not of the dark gray and black of this federation, but instead bright, warming colors. He had known to associate such colors with children, the calming and cheery sight of such colors was good for their smaller minds. Vikturs eyes focused inwards to enhance his vision much like an eagles, picking out the details of the towns architecture. Either these false-humans had a severe identity crisis, or this world was not their own, and another race was its true occupants. Perhaps these two people had a strange symbiotic relationship in one way or another, perhaps they had a trade agreement. Yet something tugged at Vikturs instinct, and it told a darker tale.

A tale of heresy.

11 - Shock assault

They must have numbered a good couple hundred. A couple hundred of the meanest motherfuckers Malcolm had ever seen. Or not seen in fact. But the firepower they were dishing out was devastating, they hit vital units of equipment and peeled apart defensive barriers like they were made of paper pulp. No casualties had been taken though, but like a rising heat, Malcolm could tell that wouldn't last forever, they were being tested. Officers tried to get a clean fix on the attackers, yet aside from half-glimpses of larger thundering figures diving from various pieces of cover no one actually got a good look at whatever was assaulting their defensive lines. Apparently all four of the main checkpoints had come under siege by what was reported as dozens of hostiles, all having their technical and defensive assets torn apart with frightening ease.

"Sergeant! Sergeant, there's only eight of them! There's only eight!" An engineer said while typing away on a scanning module.

"That's impossible! Our defenses are being hit too hard, and with far too much precision!" The sergeant roared back while firing an LMG at every slight movement that came before him.

"I know it took a while, but the movement tracker is reading correctly! Eight hostiles, big ones, fast and in a perpetual state of motion!" The engineer replied with surety.

"Really? Fine then, Squads Julo and Tekno, follow me! We'll weed them out at close range, if there's only eight then we can choke them of their mobility and get back fix on them!" The sergeant ordered, giving a signaling wave to the officer that stood at the command point further behind the line, moving our and over the defense line once receiving a wave back in confirmation.

Malcolm hadn't shot much since the attack started, due partially down to how he hand't seen much to shoot at for long enough to justify shooting at it, but also due to him not wanting to piss off anything that had firepower enough to turn a titanium barrier into Swiss cheese in the blink of an eye. He now had another reason to not fire, as did the other black-clad troopers who kept their rifles up, but mostly un-fired as the twenty-plus troopers made a quick advance towards the left of the cluster of rocks and trees that had made up the attackers cover system. Most of the trees had been easily mowed down, and rocks were beginning to be chipped away so much as to show painful cracks. The troopers split into an engagement team and backup team, the first forming up into 'Anvil' formation while the second forming up two-by-two behind them. The trooper slowed their pace upon closing the distance to the cover, the teams forming up behind a giant boulder that stretched ten feet high and twice that wide. The first team was spurred on the the sergeant, the defensive line barely being able to hear the yells of intimidation made by the attacking squad as the rounded the larger rock.

It all seemed to happen in slow-motion. A single bark, a deep burp of a high caliber weapon followed fire the barest hint of muzzle flare peeking out from behind the rock. The enemy must have been directly in front of the first wave of troops judging by how instant the contact being was. A troopers head disintegrated, bursting apart like a gory water balloon, his twisted helmet spinning high into the air while his mask broke apart into dark shards of hard plastic. The poor troopers body was flung, limp as a dead fish, into two of his squad mates that stood behind him, both stumbling backwards as the headless corpse of their comrade tackled into them. At first Malcolm concluded how the trooper must have been hit by a ton of rounds at once, but the second conclusion that a panicked assailant fired a support weapon into him became the more likely reality not a second afterwards. The other troopers raised their weapon, then raised them some more, and then kept raising them. They were aiming at something huge, taller than an Olympian. A couple of rounds cooked off with a cracking sound before another trooper was hit, once again it was the nearest one to the target. This time the troopers entire torso burst in an utterly horrifying way, innards spraying about the place in a disgusting display, intestines uncoiling from atop the troopers shattered hip bone and flopping to the floor. His arms cartwheeled through the air as they failed to remain attached to his body, his head tumbling over and bouncing off the grassy earth. The remainder of the squad lost resolve, stumbling backwards as they attempted to put distance between themselves and the target, aside from a couple that remained fixed upright as they peered at their shaking, gore-drenched hands, having been close enough to become covered in their friend.

"What is that?! What is that?!" Malcolms' voice was strained and twisted with panic as he frantically look around for someone to validate what he'd just seen.

"Shut up, keep your eyes up!" Ben replied as he kept his eyes fixed down his iron sights.

"Malcolm, if you don't keep your trap shut I'll have you disciplined for field inadequacy!" Fellks roared.

"What are we fighting?! What the hell are we fighting?!" Malcolms' nerves had gone, his hands shook and his breath left him as another three troopers burst like bloody blisters.

"Shut up, trooper. Get your shit togURGH!" A trooper beside Malcolm had started to growl before something exploded within his left lung, bursting his torso in half down the middle and spraying Malcolms' goggles with thick blood.

Malcolm remained frozen for a couple seconds, his mind slowly ticking over what was in front of him. His mind could only soak in the curtain of deep crimson that had washed over his sight. A moment later he quickly wiped at his goggles, sound, smell and touch returning their attention into him. He heard cries, of panic and pain, he smelt the stench of burnt meat and metal and he could feel his hands lacked his firearm. Malcolm scramble about, desperately looking for his gun before shakily grabbing it from under a troopers broken corpse that had fallen in front of him. He looked back up again to see eight figures sprinting towards him.

They were far from the rag-tag formations of terrorist organisations, but instead a vision of living nightmares. Dark knights of dark red and stone colored plate, gigantic in frame. They ran forth with great strides easily twice that of a normal man, at speeds that rivaled a buggy out on a flat stretch. Dirt was kicked up in great bouts with each thunderous step, the dust and dirt forming a light smog behind them as they ran. They held large, chunky weapons, thickly built firearms with wide bore barrels that barked angrily at the troops, with each roar came another trooper broken in a terrifying way. All that stood before them unharmed was the battle tank and Ogre suit. However the Ogre had deep wounds, ones far deeper than any standard issue rifle would have been able to make. Its kinetic shield had long since collapsed under the hellish degree of fire, violet sparks shimmering about its giant body as the barrier tried its best to regain coherency. A plume of smoke burst from further behind the advancing warriors that seemed to have strode straight from the depths of hell itself. A larger projectile struck the Ogre that was dishing out some pretty heft amounts of hurt upon the attackers, the streak of mist travelling directly to its chest. The Ogres' chest detonated, the large arms of the machine dropping lifelessly to its side, dropping its massive auto-gun as the pilot within was no doubt utterly vaporized.

Burt-bubp-muhcum

Troopers all about him scrambled and stumbled over themselves and their fallen allies.

Muhlcuhm! Yuh gutta guttup!

The knight-warriors sprinted ever closer, Malcolm began to hear their deep toned war cries.

"Malcolm! Come on, we have to fall back!" Ben was fiercely tugging on on Malcolms' uniform, the distraught trooper hadn't even noticed.

"O-okay! Okay!" Malcolm said dumbly before picking himself up and breaking into a sprint.

Another sharp explosion rang out from behind Malcolm just as he passed into Ponyville, he could only assume the tank had suffered the same fate as the Ogre. The two troopers ran as fast as they could, but it would seem their armor became less helpful when trying to ran as fast as possible, excessive degrees of movement going out the window. However it proved to be little enough of a nuisance to see the troopers reach the deeper parts of Ponyville. They slowed down before quickly taking an abrupt turn into an alleyway.

"What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?!" Malcolm found it hard to string a helpful sentence together.

"Shut up. Our western defense is compromised. If we head to the southern defense we can bring some of their ranks to our lines to us. You hold here, I'm going to get reinforcements." Said Ben in the uniform trooper tone, robotic and fierce.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?! You shoot them and they don't die! You shoot them and you shoot them and they just don't die!" Malcolm grew hysterical, his voice broken and utterly fearful.

"Get it together, or those things won't be all you'll have to worry about!"

"Really?! Fucking, really?! You're crazy! You've lost it!"

"I haven't lost it, you have, you sound like a little girl! Heck, you sound like one of those dumb horses!" Ben shouted.

"No! I don't know what twisted perspective this fucking federation has given you, but you're acting like a damn idiot! Like a machine!"

"I am a machine of war! We are the military of the UTF, and we have never been beaten before, and we will not be beaten now!"

"Ben...I don't think we have a say in that. Not this time. We have to get the hell out of Ponyville, we have to get to the command base in the north and get a whole damn battalion of Ogres down here. There is no way we're going to win here like this." Malcolm finally started to piece his mind together.

"So, you're abandoning your post. You're letting a UTF town get overrun by damn aliens?" Bens grip on his rifle tightened.

"Go ahead. Go ahead Mr. Patriot! Go ahead and kill for your state or whatever excuse the federation makes for you!"

Several sets of footsteps came running around the corner and into the alleyway, revealing themselves belonging to four more troopers.

"What are you doing here?" Ben asked sternly.

"We're from the Northern defense, line caved in less than ten minutes. Forces scattered, we were hoping to get some guys from the west to help us. You have that Ogre to spare?" One of the troopers asked.

"Yeh, sure! Just pull out the smoldering corpse of the pilot, little duct tape and you're good to go!" Said Malcolm, his voice breaking at certain syllables.

"Fuck! Right, what do you think? Eastern defense?" Another trooper said.

"Don't you get it, this is happening everywhere! We need to get to command and get some serious hardware!" Malcolm yelled.

A deep series of thuds thundered louder as what they belonged to grew closer. Ben raised his rifle to the edge of the alley before one of the newcomers put their hand on his barrel and lowered his gun and pushed him further into the alley. All troopers backed away, especially Malcolm. The tall, dark figures strode past the mouth of the alleyway, giant boots falling heavy against dirt below them. Their eyes blazed a venomous yellow, the lenses bearing a terrible hatred to them. They had thick builds, immense muscle mass underneath their thick armour. Eight had assaulted the western line and all eight strode past the troopers now, their armour chipped lightly in places small arms had struck them and bearing larger craters where the odd shell from the Ogre had struck them. One had a neat grove cut across his bicep, sheered through the armour and his muscle. A small waterfall of blood had run down his plate before the wound had begun to heal, scabbing over so quickly as to stop the blood flow shortly after it had begun. The final alien passed by, a rocket launcher held high with one arm, a weapon that looked like it belonged atop a tank more than being carried by infantry.

"We didn't get one...We didn't kill one of them." Malcolm said in dumb amazement.

"Neither did we. Armour is so dense that anything less than a sniper rifle just scratches at it. Guys are fast, one clocked fifty miles per hour when hitting our line. I tell you, I only seen troops fly through the air like that when hit by a rocket. They're more agile than us, tactics are sharp and well thought out. I have a feeling these things have been fighting stuff a lot bigger than us for a lot longer." Another trooper with a gruff voice mentioned.

"I got words from southern defense just before we departed, didn't sound like they were doing so great either. They lacked armored units, and it was something these guys seemed to have anticipated seeing as how they used flamethrowers against the men there." The next trooper had a very squeaky toned and very female voice.

"Heh, good thing our armor is fire proof." Ben huffed.

"Not proof enough. Reports revealed they use an augmented form of napalm, some kind of flammable adhesive. Last radio transmission was the officer stationed there gurgling on his own lungs." The gruff trooper said.

"East can't be doing any better, we have to get going. I think command sounds the best." The female trooper added.

"The UTF cannot be defeated! We've killed millions of terrorists before!" Ben yelled.

"Well first time for everything. First time being defeated, first time being ass-raped by giant aliens." The first trooper said.

"Command it is then. Sergeant Kolts, Araxiz squad." The gruff trooper said.

"Corporal Temi Jean, Jurik squad." Said the girl.

"Simon De'fronza, Private, Araxiz." The first trooper said, his accent very, very Mexican.

"Kento Hasaki, Private, Ulio squad. Guess since we're sticking together now, we should cook up a new squad name. I'm all for Right-place-wrong-time squad." The final trooper said with a small chuckle.

"You, keep quiet. Enough to worry about without you giving away our position." The sergeant ordered, jabbing a finger at the trooper.

"Private Malcolm Joyman, Holland squad." Malcolm said in a thankful tone.

"...Banay." Ben said in a growl.

"Sure. Guys this reminds me a lot like the fanatics back on Furondo. They hit this hard and are all dressed up and shit. However they drop when you shoot them. I recommend we keep light and slow, take your time getting places and stay as hidden as possible." Kolts said.

Ben gave an unimpressed huff.

"And if anyone feels like getting any dead-er, do it without giving away the rest of us." Kolts said to Ben.

"We have the whole of town to get through. Not gonna be easy." Malcolm said.

"Yeh, putting it lightly. Forget all federal superiority, forget superior firepower, today we stay very hidden and very quiet. Anything else gets you killed." Kolts said before turning to head out the alley.

Such a pity.

Viktur payed these creatures a simple and somewhat shallow prayer, but a prayer nonetheless. Probably more than they deserved, but Viktur felt he needed to pay this situation cautious thoughts. The captain scanned his dull eyes from right to left, his stony expression growing ever the more tense as his gaze floated about the blazing conflict zone. Tactical review had revealed this defensive line to lack the armour reinforcement the other three had, but had almost double the infantry power. Such bold numbers were a minor concern once flamer units had been brought into the equation. Soldiers had been reduced to infants as their flesh peeled away as soon as the bright fires washed over them, seconds later boiling their insides to a bubbling liquid state. In their final moments of agonizing life they had shown what lesser feelings they could display. Some twitched upon the ground madly as the pain wracked their fragile forms, others tore at their liquidized flesh as if to relieve themselves of whatever substance clung to them to cause such pain. Truly, Viktur pitied them, for they must have never faced a foe such as his brothers. The captain knew the type of soldier they were, he'd seen it before, all too happy to sit comfy behind a wall and keep their fingers held tight over their triggers until their troubles simply washed away.

Space marines didn't wash away so easily.

The Astartes marched forward with a solid purpose, the goal in mind to shatter the federations hold over this misshapen town, discourage their men to give chase to the crimson warriors. Yet every marine found his lesser half of concentration broken by the sights before them, the conflict of assumption and evidence. The assumption being that the civilization of these people of colder souls would be of a specific theme; bland, cold, clean and simple. But before them stood not boasting building of titanic height, nor the chilling mirror walls of lifeless city, but instead the humble warmth of stumpy cottages alongside shops who's architecture delighted the eye with expressive design. Everything around them had a glow to it, a welcoming chime that sung loud within the hearts of the marines. Truly such an eminence was something Astartes could truly appreciate, for Imperial cities too held expressive, overt architecture that told a story to the eyes, mind and heart. Surely such warmth came not from the colder minds of those corpses that lay behind him.

"Solid circular spread. Report anomalies before investigation." Viktur ordered.

"Are we to expect civilian encounters, Captain?" Carvul asked in a soft tone.

"Consider all encounters from now on to be questionable." The captain simply replied.

Viktur took a moment to take in surrounding while his brother took up a wider spread position, bolters flitting from rooftop to alleyway, flamers passively sweeping about in anticipation of movement. The captain surgical implants whispered to his eyes in the form of tactical icons, glyphs and runes that revealed his next destination; to meet up with the western assault squad. He gave a quick half gesture to his squad, seeing them form up towards the north to head through the widest alleyway. Even given its width, the alley made movement difficult for a marine, having them take caution not to scratch at the walls of the homes at either side with their large pauldrons. Further irritation came in the form of an enemy grenade that flew from the far side of the alley, bouncing off a wall and at the feet of Henatrex who took lead. The heavy flamer bearing marine was mid-swing of a kick in an attempt to return the small spherical device before the grenade proved to have been cooked a fair while, detonating not a second after landing to the ground. The grenade detonated with enough force to 'skin' Henatrexs' left leg of most of its ceramite protection, leaving broken and twisted metal with head-sized holes revealing hydraulics, cables and adamantium ribbing supports. The marine stumbled back a step before turning his thoughts to utter hatred. With a primal roar that would send a super-predator scurrying away like a frightened kitten, the marine took up a firm, hasty march to the edge of the alley. At the mouth of the path peered out four troops, all with weapons raised and delivering fire onto the marine. Though the rounds struck the man, they did nothing to slow or stop him. His flamer burped liquid flame onto the troopers, catching one who had been too slow to react as his squad took cover. The fierce fires gnawed at the grass, thankfully landing far enough away from the buildings as to not start a fire that could have engulfed the whole town.

The marines burst from the alley, spreading out to hold a defensive blister around their path in anticipation of a counterattack that had already begun before they'd even set their first foot forward. A couple dozen or so troopers had found valiance enough to hold up a defense against the marines advance. The marines took knee at the first rank and stood at the second while the captain broke into a sprint towards the nearest firing cluster. The troopers had now simply to decide what manner they wished to die; by bolter or by blade. The squad coughed rounds and fire upon various clusters to ensure they stay nice and shaken while the captain hit his target.

"What the fuuuuu-!" A trooper squealed as the marine charged into them, sending two of their number hurtling through the air in a display of broken bone and pulped flesh.

Chainsword roared as it swung crimson archs through the defenders, gore spattering about the grassy streets. Troopers stumbled back not two steps before being sliced apart by a vicious windmill of angry, metal teeth. The other groups of soldiers soon lost their already shaken courage, tugging at those that remained to make a retreat. The semi-auto fire of the marines saw a trooper every couple of second burst in a haze of ruby mist, showering all around their broken corpses with hot blood. Viktur made no displays of carnage, no cries dripping with righteous fury, he made a humble reaping instead with tight lips and a creased brow. Not half a minute after the first shot had been fired all of the ambush teams had been cut down in one way or another, leaving small heaps of blood-drenched, steaming body parts.

"Confirm, reconfirm! Check for movement at heightened structure points! Carvul, to me!" Viktur barked quickly, seeing that his lesser brethren make a short jog over to him.

"What do you make of all this? What do we stand upon?"

"Low tier, low tensity, I've seen civilian paradise destination with less heat than this. Whoever's hand built this has yet to even know of the term 'violence', let alone perform such arts." The marine said in a half-mumble.

"Well, they know now." Viktur mused as he glanced down at a twitching, severed arm.

"Architecture is extremely expressive. Were it not for the 'unique' theme I would go as far as to assume Imperial artificers crafted some of these buildings."

"And certainly not the gelatinous minds of our adversaries. They think to transparently, to simply and efficiently to craft such displays. Would you name me false to assume that these creatures have committed acts of occupation, brother?" Viktur asked.

"Not at all, sire. I would echo such concerns." Carvul assured.

Movement. Corner of the captain eye. Something moved with organic fluidity and gave reason enough to see his hand fly to his holstered plasma pistol and snap his head to the side. Not much time presented itself to the captain, no long than a couple of second. Time enough.

Before him, within the shadowy confines of a nearby shop window was a large set of eyes peering at him widely. They beamed a bright blue at him, two pools of purest ocean staring into his own cold grey. About the eyes was a small, rounded head that he had difficulty seeing. His eyes had just begun to adjust before the anomaly shot away into the darkness, remaining mostly unseen. Viktur could have simply washed away the peculiar sight with a quick prayer of concentration, yet something about the sight truly tugged at his mind with power beyond curiosity. It was duty.

"Brethren, hold fast. Remain alert." The captain murmured, loud enough to be heard by all.

With two steps the captain brought himself up to the building with the elusive occupants, peering upwards as he scanned the building over. It was as if a childs' sketch had been pulled into this reality, the bizarre structure awash with such bright colors it almost insulted the captains sight. It was crafted to appear as colossal baked goods stacked and secured together with a snowy icing. To his right hung a wooden sign depicting a cake bludgeoned by an absurd amount of pink frosting. Viktur couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he had a feeling this was a bakery. After taking a quick note of an upside down horseshoe hanging above the door the Astarte gave two sharp, loud knocks on the door with his armored fist.

"Oh em cee! It's just outside the door! Do I answer with an offering of juice? Or cookies? Maybe marshmallows, the big ones the Cakes keep in the 'Hazardous Material' cupboard?" Squeaked a high pitch, sugary voice in a whisper from within the building.

"Don't even think about it, Pinkie! If we don't answer, maybe it'll go away!" Another, huskier, but ultimately female voice whispered.

"I doubt it's just going to go away! Those things look like they'd just lift up the store around us!" This voice was much more proper, having a mild intellectual tinge.

"I don't know, Twilight. They did knock first." The next voice was so gentle and sickly sweet Viktur felt his second heart jump to life.

"Oh, fine, you want to answer the door to the ten foot, flamethrower holding, demon-knights who happen to have a basic understanding of 'manners', you go right ahead!" The smarter voice strained, Viktur taking a minor sense of humor in the observation of him and his brothers.

"......Okay." Replied the cushiony voice, followed by a series of lightweight footsteps backed by a series of 'Nononono!'s from the other occupants.

"Nonononono-!"

Although Fluttershy could fully understand her friends heart-felt discouragement at answering the door to something that looked like it tore itself out from the nightmares of one of the darkly armored troopers that prowled Ponyville. However this did little to discourage the small pegasus from no wrapping her delicate hand around the door handle and twisting away the in-door lock. With a firm clunk the door became loose, giving sway in both push and pull methods. Fluttershy wasn't so sure of her safety as to just swing the door open, so she slowly creaked it inward, peeking an eye around the door.

The creature before her was terrifying, no doubt about that, an image of death and hatred in all its forms. However it was obscenely overt. What Fluttershy hated more than anything about the federation troops was how shady and dark they were, they gave you nothing to run on when considering identity or expression. It was like talking to a shadow, some strange spectral entity that had formed itself into a physical thing with no face or identity of any kind. However this thing screamed expression and stories decades old, perhaps older. It loomed over Fluttershys' five foot - four frame at an impressive eight foot, utterly dwarfing even the soldiers of the socialist aliens. He, assuming it was a 'he' with the outstanding evidence, wore a giant set of armour of gory crimson and warm stone colors trimmed with a dark metal. Unlike the dark armour of the federation, this was of bold, outstanding color painted about various sigils and sculptures that depicted what seemed like skulls and hooded figures with long robes. His face was near hideous, not because he was an alien, but because he was horribly scarred, at least by equestrian standards, smaller scars swiping across a large portion of his face like mountain-scape across a map, while strange and ugly mechanical objects clung to the side of his skull like chunky grey leeches. His belt had a large firearms locked to it alongside a very large hand weapon that look like a sword and chainsaw ran really fast into one another, the strange 'chain-sword' appearing it would take two or three ponies to just lift it off the ground.

"U-uhm...yes?" Fluttershy asked, the small and simple question the only thing that could be pulled from her shaken mind.

"You are the occupants of this settlement?" The large creature boomed, his voice akin to the roar of a lion.

"U-uh, w-well you mean p-ponies?...Um, I guess so." The timid pegasus replied.

"You sound unsure." The alien boomed again, his voice holding a slight agitation to it.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Yes, we are. I am. I mean...uh, yes."

"The administrator of this land is presently available?" Fluttershy struggled to figure out what the being was trying to say, it sounded like it was asking her something.

"Uh, w-well, I guess that would be me. Partly at least." Twilight perked up as she gingerly walked over to join Fluttershy.

"You hold a degree of authority over these earth?" The creatures asked again, his attention now firmly fixed upon the princess with an intensity that almost had a direct pressure to it.

"I do. Well, I did." Twilight said somberly.

"Your tone is connected to the presence of these miscreants I take it?" The giant growled.

"Yeah, you could say that. Actually, what am I saying? Yes, of course it is!" Twilight blurted, causing the large alien to cock his head to the side in an almost primal manner.

Well, sounds like you gave them a good old flank kickiiiiIIIIIII-!" Twilights' tone turned to an almost sub-sonic squeal as her gaze rested upon the carnage that had occurred outside. Fluttershy, also seeing the terrifying display after wondering what Twilight had seen, spun about to slam her back against a wooden beam of Sugarcube Corners' interior.

"What? What is it?" Pinkie asked as she scooted off the table she sat on and bouncily trotted over to the door to see what had happened only to have Fluttershy tackle her to the ground, ending up in a slightly awkward position.

"Don't-move!" Fluttershy rasped with wide eyes and tiny pupils staring into Pinkies'.

"Okay!" Pinkie replied gleefully.

"Sorry, uh, sir? What's you're name?" Twilight asked after regaining her composure and legendarily returning the contents of her stomach from her throat back to where it belonged.

"Captain Viktur, Sacrificors Space Marine chapter, third company." Viktur replied.

"I am Princess Twilight Sparkle, the former bearer of the element of magic." Twilight replied, the entire sentence receiving a confused frown from the captain.

"Many questions remain between us, I am sure. Is there a more secure portion of this settlement we can return to to further discuss our queries?" The 'space marine' asked.

"Oh, well can't say we have any stone fortresses lying around. But we were going to make a break for my library once the fighting died down, we have friends waiting there for us."

"Good. They offer themselves as your council?"

"Yes, definitely." Assured Twilight.

"Very well. We make for the library. Stay low and hidden, try to cloud your senses with concentration on your destination. We can ill afford one of your number being gripped by the sights that might lay before you."

12 - Heresy!

The small natives drew a true sense of regret and pity from Viktur as he watched them squeamishly prance through the garden of death and blood. The reserved one of blue coat and technicolored hair simply stared ahead with wide, frightened eyes and clenched teeth. The yellow one was similar, only she was less disciplined in not keeping her eye from drifting downwards every so often and catching sight of a broken body or mangled limb, upon seeing such things emitting a high pitched squeal. The Princess seemed to be muttering to herself to remain distracted, what Viktur could make out seemed to be some trail of mathematical and scientific calculations. The bright pink one of loud and squeaky voice had plugged her fingers in her ears, closed her eyes and sang a chorus of 'Lalalalala~'. Viktur had spotted what he assumed to be the library not ten seconds ago, and it wasn't far at all. The building was in the form of what seemed like a hollowed out oak tree, complete with a door, several windows and even a small balcony. Just as they approached the large tree the front door swung open to reveal a large, orange, female native wearing work clothes and a country-style field hat.

"Come on yah'll, we've been waitin' for ya-WHAT DAH BUCKIN' BUMBLEBEE!?!?" She cried out upon seeing the gigantic space marines.

"It's alright AJ! They're with us!" Twilight called out as she interrupted her distraction giving calculus.

"Twi, what are those thangs?!" This 'A-J' exclaimed.

"Just keep the door open!" The princess cried out as she sprinted forward.

The ponies probably wouldn't have needed an open door to enter the library seeing how fast they were travelling. All bolted through the door and past their friend, aside from the pink one, who promptly bounced off the outside of the tree in her closed eye state. After comically shaking her head she bounced up to her feet and darted inside with the other. The marines followed closely behind, but halted outside the tree seeing as they could not enter through such a small doorway.

"Princess, is there another way into the structure?" Viktur asked in a low tone.

"Oh, one second." The purple mare said before quickly trotting outside and stopping just next to the captain.

The natives facial horn was set aglow by some ethereal force as she brought her hands into a firm gesture before her chest, one held above the other with palms open. A glassy and perfectly spherical bubble washed its way around the pair, its surface like violet oil. With a quickly switch of her hands position a flash of light burst before the captain, turning into a rushing sensation that seemed to through the captain in whatever direction his attention was turned to. His vision cleared to reveal an ocean of golden clouds and a fiercely beautiful sunset all around him. Soon, bright figures fluttered and flew past him, seemingly made of a bright, golden light emanating from liquid light itself. The figures appeared winged, some as small as a servo-cherub, others as large as an Astarte. Viktur could make out arms and hands, then robes, pieces of armour and finally faces. They were divine beings, elegant and powerful creatures from beyond the realm of reality itself. Viktur barely acknowledged the princess next to him as his attention remained fixed upon the otherworldly beings that seemed to notice his presence as an equally strange phenomenon as they were to him. Some covered their mouths, others whispered to one another, some descended in a theatrical display of tumbles and pirouettes. A light ahead grew more and more intense with every heartbeat, finally engulfing the captain and princess, blinding them to the marvel around them. Suddenly a sense of gravity Viktur hadn't even notice leave him returned to his knees and shoulders, and apparently also Twilight who had slumped to her knees on a wooden floor beneath them. It seemed that once the two had reemerged into reality something had followed them to add a aesthetic display for some unknown reason, as doves of perfect white burst all around them, feathers falling like late spring petals all about them. As soon as they'd appeared the ghostly birds fluttered a while before dissipating into nothingness.

"Ugh! Well, that's never happened before." The princess exclaimed in exhaustion.

"I take it your teleportational abilities are less...'eventful'?" Viktur inquired as he turned to look at the girls that attended to their friend.

"Much. Normally it's just, 'poof' out and 'poof' back in again. Where were we? How long was I gone?" Twilight asked Viktur first, then her friends.

"You appeared inside as soon as you'd disappeared outside, just like usual. Just when you came back you seemed to have taken some wildlife with you." A white female with a silky mane said as she lifted her friend to her hooves again.

"I would be lead to believe my presence threw our trajectory through the Warp off, throwing us into the Emperors heavenly domain." Viktur said as if such an answer was simple.

"Emp-..wait, wha-? Never mind. Girls, this is Captain Viktur. He's, as you can probably see, also an alien." Twilight introduced in a courtly manner.

"Is Equestria some kinda alien get-away or sumthin'?! What are these ones doing here?" AJ growled.

"These guys are called Space Marines. They're lost after having to make a quick get away from, uh, somewhere. They've had a heated run-in with the federation as well."

AJs expression went from sour and judgmental to bright and excited, her hand shooting up to flip her hat away from her eyes.

"Well why didn'cha say?! My Mr Captain, we sure could use a lil' help 'round these parts." The orange country worker said.

"I can see you have quite strong feelings about the situation that has developed recently, yet first answers must be heard. Brothers, we cannot be disturbed. It is acceptable that I keep the audio channel open for my brothers to hear as I do?" The captain said to a device implanted within his throat before turning his attention to the girls.

"Understood, none shall pass." Ivanhar replied from outside, the heavy footsteps of marines taking up defensive positions thundering beyond the library walls.

"That's fine, I mean, saves time for you right?"

"Precisely. Now, tell me, what has happened here? Who are these people to you?" Viktur asked sternly.

"I...I've got this AJ. I'll tell the whole story, I promise." Twilight said as the orange girl perked up to speak, the orange mare hesitating before giving a half-felt nod.

"Well, I guess I should start from two years ago. I'd just had my coronation as princess of Equestria, everything seemed like it was going to be just fine. A few days later we were contacted by this space-faring federation, the UTF as they like to call themselves. They sent down a team of scientists and representatives for their race, saying they came in peace and that they came to spread prosperity throughout our world. This sounded like the best thing to happen in all Equestrian history, the anticipation of spreading our understanding of magic, how much our entire species could achieve with such knowledge. Plus, being given space ships and robots sounded like something we could all get real used to. At first these feds started just harmlessly checking up everything in Equestria, our cities and town, studying our lifestyles, our magic and our economies. That's when things started getting a little sour."

"These aliens, they just didn't get the idea of magic, they washed it off as just another degree of science they could already control. Ponies started getting a little tetchy, especially in Canterlot and Ponyville, I mean, Magic has been the primary way we have grown to understand the world around us for thousands of years, and it was being torn apart all around us. The princesses tried reasoning with these people, trying to teach the magic that bound us all together in friendship and cooperation, but they simply swatted our opinions aside, labelling us as backwards thinking religious nut-jobs! That's when the soldiers started coming down, when the posters started popping up and the federal building started being built. In places like Manehattan, Stalliongrad, Fillydelphia, Baltimare and Vanhoover the idea of science explaining magic became more and more appealing, especially once the propaganda and troops started taking a firm hold over the cities. Ponies started taking the magic places like Ponyville use daily for granted, instead opting for any and every gadget and gizmo the aliens could throw at them. But the cost of such technology was that it was for everypony, equally, that seems to be the federations theme; absolute equality."

"Soon enough, you heard of the privileged minority being shunned socially, refused from shops and leisurely places. Then ponies started getting openly violent, throwing the nobles out of their homes, selling their stuff off into the economy, all the while the federation just standing by, watching their handy work. St this point, everypony in central Equestria was quite happy enough just to let the federation influence whoever they wanted, so long as those towns that remained true to the old Equestria remained untouched. Shame that wasn't what the federation had in mind. Ponyville, Canterlot, Las Pegasus, Tall Tale, Cloudsdale and...Appleoosa all cherished our old way of life, holding tightly to magic and tradition, to friendship, faith and the freedom to be whatever you wanted to be. But the feds, they wanted everything to be the same, every town, every house, everypony to have a job that would help everypony else. Sounds real great, right? Well sure, but it wasn't what we wanted. But still, this did nothing to dissuade the UTF, they were happy enough to just wave away our opinions, convincing themselves they didn't take orders from 'pastel colored magical ponies'. We were just a ridiculous joke to them, just something else for them to analyse, reform and orchestrate to their demands."

"Towns like this couldn't really do much to stop the troops that marched into our streets, handing out government summons and closing shops that refused to pay a tax demand. At this point the federation had started expanding into foreign countries, populated by different species. Buffalo, Dragons, Griffins, you name it, they all had the feds knocking on their doors. However, Equestria is somewhat limp when it comes to military response, we've never had to face war for over a thousand years under the guidance of Princess Celestia, but other lands had more rugged societies. That's when the bombs dropped. Every UTF expeditionary force that was turned down refused to acknowledge the 'primitive' societies way of life as valid, ultimately insulting each and every lands government and seeing them declare war on the federation. Seeing that the federation was solely situated in Equestria, this meant that every other immediate country around us declared war on us to get to the aliens they were at war with. The federation showed their true colors that day, when they dropped massive kinetic missile strikes on every warring species. Not their capitals, not their military...everypony, every Griffin, every Dragon and Changeling. All gone. Now...now it was just us left." Twilights eyes began to well up with thick tears as the captains expression grew tense and sharp.

"Most ponies got real scared, real quick. Nopony wanted to so much as look at the troopers outside our doors let alone defy them. But one town remained utterly defiant, refusing to just back down and surrender to alien intimidation. Appleoosa was a small town built within a massive apple orchard in the dry lands. They cooked up what the federation deemed a 'laughable defense' along with a few dozen poisonous bombs made from ground up plant compound and flower pots. The troops that marched into Appleoosa were hit by the poisons, taking a few injuries as a result, seeing around three dozen troops suffer from respiratory problems for a good four months. In response the next day after the attacks the federation bombarded the entire town with incendiary ordinance. After that they sent in more troops to 'clean up' anypony who'd survived. There were families in that town, Captain, entire families, a school, all turned to ash just because they refused to fold to those freaks demands, and after refused to evacuate their town for it to just be blown up. But they did it anyway, Viktur, they destroyed everything...most of AJs family was in that town." Twilight said, tears rolling down her cheek as she gestured to the stone-faced mare who had turned to peer out a window, most likely to hide what emotions her expression was giving away.

"They got wiped out jus' cuz they refused to share what was rightfully theirs. The pasties declared them 'enemies of reason', moved in to take the orchard anyway and start throwin' apples all across Equestria. Mah family's been doin' that for generations, but why was that not good enough? Cuz those freaks couldn't control it, cuz it weren't theirs to control! This is our land, not there's! They've poisoned the hearts'n'minds a' ponies all along the outside of Equestria. N' now, now there's even talk of the Princesses bein' dethroned. Even Twilight here." AJ stated with a fierce tone.

Viktur scanned over at the faces of the other girls before him.

"Please. Please, I, as Princess of Equestria, am begging you, please, help us." Twilight pleaded, sinking to her knees.

Still Vikturs grey eyes washed over the small, colorful faces before him. The vengeful, the broken, the dampened, the fearful, the exhausted and the brave-faced. He came to a conclusion, after diving into the pool of Imperial law to rise again with a simple and absolute outcome. One the Imperium was far too familiar with.

"Heresy." Viktur growled with such solidity it would seem his words would fall from his mouth and crash through the floor beneath them.

The ponies looked at him confused, their faces growing more fearful as Vikturs eyes darted about wildly, his face twisting into a visage of utter rage.

"Heresy!" Again he said in the form of a thunderous roar.

"Tis blasphemy, Captain! See us annihilate this scum from these lands! None shall stand before us!" Henatrex roared over the radio.

"We would make little difference. We would be simply blundering through this world blindly, misfortune and error would be easy diseases to catch in such conditions." Viktur growled, his face still fuming.

"Thenry, this is Viktur. Consider our plans initiated in full from this moment. More than we thought rests upon your success, it is of the utmost importance you deliver your package." Viktur ordered over the radio as he mentally switched channels.

"Understood, consider us on the move. We shall inform you of our success as soon as we can." The scout sergeant replied.

"Captain, contact, native. High velocity approach." Called Carvul.

"Let them pa-" Viktur began before the front door burst open to reveal two large female figures.

The first was of beyond godly physique, the image of the ultimate warrior princess. He coat was a dark blue, her mane and tail a swirling, swaying veil of night sky blue and shimmering starlight. Her eyes were an icy turquoise that threw a fierce stare in the Captains direction as her thickly muscled arms were spread wide from throwing the door open. She wore an elegant gown of silky, ice blue as well as shoes and wrist braces of the same color. Atop her head was a crown of humble yet striking ornate design as well as a similar collar depicting a half moon of pearlescent white. She, like Twilight, bore a pair of large, feathery wings as well as a horn sprouting from just above her eyebrows at the center of her head. Behind her was a slightly less impressive sight.

Another mix-breed native of tall stature, but of a much fairer build. Though more physically impressive than most of the lesser natives her had seen so far, she was more akin to a gentler goddess than one built from the desires of battle. She had a truly beautiful waterfall of two-tone purple beside vanilla for a mane and tail, while her wings demonstrated a unique purple tinge towards their tips against the pink that composed most of her body. Her eyes were a much gentler violet compared to the others burning blue, and was not demonstrating the sincere fury the first was. Instead of delivering a stance of authority and dominance, this one made quite the peculiar display by making chopping motions with her open hands in a weak display of what Viktur assumed was some form of martial arts. She wore much more casual clothing; a pair of well fitting denim trousers, a loose shirt and a dark purple jacket. Upon seeing the space marine captain the dark blue native relaxed a portion, her face falling into confusion.

"Princess Luna! Cadence! What are yo-? Ah right, attack on Ponyville, leaders of Equestria, right." Twilight said to herself in ridicule.

"From what shadow of the world did these creatures spring from?" Asked the one known as 'Luna', her companion continuing her furious chopping of the air that hung before one of his brother marines.

"It's alright, Princess, they're here to help...I think. They have a funny way of communicating." Twilight assured.

"It is true? Such a thing seems utterly impossible! Damnation comes from the sky, followed not two years later by aid?" The princess exclaimed with an exaggerated gesture.

"Truly, the design of our Emperor stretches far, and in strange ways. Yet it remains that we have arrived to see the crimes inflicted upon this world undone." Viktur said sternly, the princess seeming to take well to his vocabulary.

"Uh, excuse me?!" A husky, yet very much female voice spoke up from a previously quiet corner of the library.

All occupants turned to look at a lean built, blue coated, winged female. She stood in a shaky, tense stance, like she was facing her own execution.

"I get how everypony is so excited and ready to accept help from these...whatever they are, but can't everypony just stop for two minutes and really think about this? This is beyond what we've dealt with, and we've dealt with a lot! What next, does Equestria turn into some alien battlefield?! I can't deal with any more of this! This is crazy!" The girl shrieked hysterically.

"Please, Rainbow, this could be our only chance to make things right again! I thought you of all ponies would be more than willing to see the Federation gone from our lives?" Twilight stressed.

"Not like this! Listen, Captain is it? You have to admit, the way you guys look, talk, what you do, you're a time bomb. Right? Your job is to blow up in a situation that can't be handled any more, right? And yes, we can't handle this situation, but Equestria is too fragile to have a bomb like you going off in it!" The rainbow maned girl said.

The captain payed a moments thought on the small girls words, paying them the respect they deserved. Although her analysis was a loose one it was relatively accurate. Perhaps this world could not handle Imperial conflict, not even against such a limp and flimsy adversary as the broken creatures that lay outside. Perhaps, indeed, his intervention was not desired nor appropriate upon this world. But such a mental stumble did not prove great enough to sway him from his path, he would fight, his brothers would fight. This land was in a cold and well-disguised version of ruin, being drained of all its life and warmth in favor of ideals crafted by an alien breed. Besides, Viktur had been running for far too long, he needed to make a stand here if nowhere else.

"It will not end, not after what has been done today. If anything it will see this Federation grip your society in an ever tighter grip. As their fear grows so will their hostility. If we leave you this day, if we do not step out this crime as it is, its roots will only dig deeper and more of the world you know will slip away." Viktur said in a low tone.

"You speak as though you have witnessed such things before?" Luna spoke up.

"I have seen a hundred theatres of war, no two the same. I have seen a people choked of their souls in favour of...progress...of logic and technology. All of it lies! Just false words hiding the true motive. Control...power, this is what drives the Federation, this much is evident. They may well have been bullying and beating their own people into submission to further their agenda, and now their cancer has spread to yours." Viktur took a few steps left and right, his unrest reflecting in his movements.

"They use fear and intimidation as their primary weapon against you, they are counting on you being scared of them. I am brought under the idea they do this to squelch most of their adversaries, but such cheap tricks have no hold over us. Fate has seen us brought before you, willing, able to help. The Federation has been bullying others for long enough, and now the time has come for them to be bullied themselves. We can hit them where it hurts the most, when they least expect it, against all logic and reason. Against this they will be thrown into a battle they cannot hope to understand, let alone aspire in, all of what they are will account for nothing!" Viktur spat.

"What about us? You're so wrapped up in what the Federation has done and what you plan to do, where to we come into all of this?" Rainbow said, her body hunched and tense as though she stood in a blizzard.

"Do what you will. Flee, stay, fight, I hold no command over your people. I would hope you go and seek far away refuge. Prepare to rebuild, prepare to work hard and clean up after us. Your choice is simple; see us leave and have the aliens consume and eradicate your society and exchange it for their own. See us remain and fight this plague, see your lands damaged and your town broken, but you will remain a free people as you once were."

"I will not fade away, not again!" Luna exclaimed.

"Dash, if we don't stop this right now we could all die. I'm sure we were being targeted for execution before the marines arrived, and if they leave...well, I don't want to find out if they feel like putting my head back in their gun sights." Twilight said, her tone calm yet weighing heavy with worry.

"Execution? Your crimes?" Viktur asked, perplexed.

"Being a princess, teaching magic as an elusive force, defending Equestrian tradition, supporting anti-federation rallies and vocal movements. The UTF really hates unrest and confrontation."

"Enough of this, Princess, leave me from this place." Viktur growled.

Twilight quickly trotted to his side to cast a teleportation spell. After another otherworldly spectacle the two stood beside the other Space Marines who had occupied the streets immediately around the library.

"Orders, sir?" Ivanhar asked.

"Hold for now, let's see how these runts take a challenge." Viktur said firmly as he strode into a more open space in the middle of the street before him.

"Come now all who wish to die! Come! Come and witness the artistry of our profession! To the whelps of black and red do I speak, and hear me they shall as I speak true words! I have broken your soldiers, swatted them aside like child playthings. Their filthy blood stains me and my brethren, yet I demand more! Throw yourselves to me and be destroyed, rid the universe of your worthless frames, embrace the oblivion you were made for!"

The girls remained inside of the library, yet Vikturs voice rang like someone had put a megaphone to their ears. All of Ponyville and perhaps a slight beyond must have heard his roars and bellows as he taunted the soldiers like helpless lambs, the soldiers Twilight and her friends had learnt to fear for so long.

"Viktur! This is General Mason! Stand down, stop this madness and face justice for your crimes! If you do not comply you will be destroyed!" A familiar voice came from over a speaker system.

"Ah, General! Where is my favorite deceiver?! Do you hide away in a far flung confinement, or do you have enough nerve to face me?! Come out, Mason! FACE ME! Face the crimes your kind has committed!" Viktur bellowed to the air around him.

"You're the one who's killed men and women today! They had friends and family! How can you live with yourself?!"

"I feel their souls push down on my soldiers just as I feel the million more I have snatched from this life! But a better question is how do you live, Mason?! How have you resisted the delicious release of a bullet through your maw?! I may have killed dozens this day, for a noble cause no less, but how many have you killed, Mason?! Was it you?! Was it your finger that pushed the button that killed, how many? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? Millions, Mason, millions of lives lay stolen and ruined before you and your damnable regime!" Vikturs voice shattered the air itself, louder than the roar of a vengeful god.

No reply came from the machinery around him. The mechanical mouths remained silent.

"They're dead, Mason! Thousands of families are dead! The soldiers I have killed today saw me kill them! I looked into their eyes and I tasted their fear as they died right before me! You! What did you do when you murdered those people?! Did you go and have a long sit down in a comfy chair, the throne of your sin?"

"The species we killed were unstable, hostile! They waged war against us, they started it all! You have no right-" Mason yelled out losing his resolve.

"You had no right! You had no right to kill them! You spew your lies and petty excuses! Did their women wage war against you?! Did their children thrust blades at your soldiers?! You murdered them all like the cowards you are! You burnt them from the safety of your ships and watched from afar as a million lives simply ended! You thought you won, but you are wrong, Mason! You are wrong! You have won nothing, and those people you killed will be avenged! For every one of them that lay dead, ten of your filthy kind shall drown in their own gore!" Viktur screamed in return.

"I will kill another couple thousand if it means I get rid of you!" Mason roared over the speakers.

Viktur only needed a half a second to process and understand what he meant, and the revelation sat sourly in his mind. The Astartes expression twisted into a tense mess of scarred flesh, his eyes closing as his hopes dropped from his gut.

"I will rain an ungodly firestorm upon you! I'm talking scorched earth, motherfucker! *I WILL FUCK YOU UP!***"

Vikturs face scrunched and tensed as his brow fell inward violently. His expression made him appear to have been forced to consume something quite sour.

"Captain, what does he mean?! What are they going to do?!" Yelled Twilight from the door of her library.

"Nothing...they're not going to do anything." Viktur said glumly.

"Captain?" Inquired Henatrex with worry.

"What is it you want?!" Called out Viktur, his tone having grown level.

"You've killed a lot of good men and women today." Stated the general.

"Yes, and?" Viktur urged with growing impatience.

"You will put down your weapons, bring yourselves before my men and surrender to our authority here. You will be taken to a Federation stronghold to be questioned and held in imprisonment for your crimes."

"If we refuse?" Viktur asked.

"Then I give Ponyville the Appleoosa makeover."

Vikturs' mind filled with a dark venom, not for Mason, but for himself. Another submission, another retreat, another failure. How had he ever risen to become a commander of his chapter? Was he truly, once again, being forced to submit to a condition beyond his control? His heart could not take more of this ridicule, yet he had no choice.

"Very well. We shall take the time to relinquish our war-gear." Viktur said as a man dying would.

"Captain, surely we cannot." Ivanhar said, rushing to face the captain.

"If you have foreseen opportunity here, Sergeant, then please feel free to share." Vikturs' tone was dry, dying, as desperate as it could be stressed.

"Is it not obvious?! We make a final vigilant stand before these miscreants! We battle through the fire as we have a hundred time before!" Carvul spat as though he spoke to a fool.

"What of the people, brother? They will not survive this." Viktur said as he turned from his brethren.

"What difference does it make?! These people are not our priority, and you know it! We are to keep the relic safe at all costs. These people are not too greater a cost, not by far!" Carvul tore his helmet from his head, casting it to the ground like junk to bring his burning eyes to lock onto the Captains'.

Viktur weakly took in his brothers expression, his pale flesh, his thin lips, sharp jaw and thin hair. Vikturs' eyes floated across to his other marine brothers, and he did not need to see their faces to know many felt similar. The Captains' hope faded to darkness, and with it, his blade and pistol fell to the earth beneath him. An earth he was not to see scorched any time soon.

"Captain!" Carvul growled, his eyes tense as he shakily watched his commander lazily march away to the edge of the town.

The orange girl the Captain had seen earlier rushed outside from the tree-made-library, coming to a stop to stand among the marines.

"Hey! Hey, Captain! No! No you get back here! Don't ignore me! You don't get to ignore me! Don't leave us like this! You're the only hope we all have left!...Please! Captain, please!" The girl grew frantic and enraged before falling to her knees in a pleading mess.

"You're a coward, Captain! You've always been a coward!" Carvul roared to Viktur.

The Captain knew his brother didn't mean it, not entirely. But a nonetheless, a sense of truth hung around those words. Too many times had he fled or avoided an obstacle, even simply given in. Was he being smart, or was he losing touch with what it was to be a true Space Marine.

Mason stood in a cold sweat with his wrist computer displaying ordnance controls. One touch of a single icon would turn the town before him into a pile of rubble and ash in an instant. In all truth, he didn't know if he could commit to such devastation, he would never have previously thought he'd have such capabilities.

"Hey, Mason. I did it last time, I'll do it again." Dragovich said in a hushed tone.

"No. I started this, and I've gotta finish it."

"General, movement!" A trooper said whilst keeping his eyes locked on the screen of his wrist computers radar.

Mason took a quick glance to the edge of Ponyville, over a hundred yards away, before turning to take a knee beside a haphazard squad of survivors he had encountered upon dropping down to the planet with his liberalization force.

"What can we expect if this is another offensive?" Mason asked the squad leader in a quietened tone.

"A lot less troops." Kolts replied, knowing the Generals' question before he even finished it.

"Feel like elaborating?"

"You should just nuke that dumb fairy-tale of a town and take those freaks out with it." Banay growled from behind his mask.

"We need to give them a chance to surrender." Jean added.

"What, like how they gave us a chance?! Tell that to all the troops that are lying around town in fifty different pieces!" Banay hissed back.

"That's enough, private. So, is that it, we either hit them first and maybe live or give them a chance to surrender and probably die?"

"Turnin' out to be one hell of a day, huh, General?" Kolts shrugged.

Mason took a deep, sour tasting breath and painfully got to his feet once more to turn to the holoscreens of his command console.

"General, if we start getting shot at I'm hitting this switch. When that happens you need to organize the fallback and get to a safe distance before the orbital shells hit." Mason said to Dragovich.

"Got it."

A figure could be made out emerging from behind the forest of buildings at the edge of town. The large creature marched with heavy footsteps, his battle-plate shifting as he approached with potent motions, each footstep a massive shift in weight. All guns were on the marine, every soldier eager to start cooking the alien with bullets.

"Halt! Stop, or we will fire on you!" An officer barked out to the marine.

The effect was immediate, the hulking warrior came to a sudden stop. Mason could see Vikturs face from this distance, he could see the dead look in his eyes, eyes that focused on nothing in particular, but lost in murky thoughts.

"Drop your weapons!"

The Captain dropped his energy pistol along with his chainsaw weapon. Both hit the earth with a deep thud, the pistol gave a high pitched whine as it deactivated from being released by its master, like an animal having just lost its owner. Other marines followed the Captain, some wandering forward as solemnly and heartbroken as the Captain, some held themselves with their solidity intact, other marched forward as if they intended to kill every federal that stood before them. Viktur fell to his knees with a thunderous boom, his face taught with an internal pain Mason could probably never understand. A handful of the other marines also knelt, most notably the one Mason recognized as the veteran sergeant, he knelt beside the Captain and placed an armored glove upon his pauldron. He looked at his Captain with the expression that spoke 'I'm sure everything will be alright'.

Yeah, you keep thinking that Mason thought as he waved the troops forward.

The troopers shuffled and jogged forwards towards the marines who dropped their armaments. A squad surrounded Viktur, guns probing the space around him. A pair of soldiers attempted to restrain the Captain and kick him to the ground, but the marines' bulk proved too vast for the soldiers to handle. Another trooper let his brashness get the better of him and threw the butt of his rifle into the marines face in an attempt to get him to the ground, only to have his gun rebound off the giants' stony face, barely budging it an inch. Viktur circulated his jaw before turning his eyes upwards towards Mason, ignoring the troopers attempts at subduing him. Vikturs old, grey eyes burnt a chilling feeling into the General, and its hatred carved a very definite message into his mind.

This isn't over.