Manny the Imperial Guard's Chaos-Funded Adventure Into Horseland

FOR TEH EMPRAH!!!

Manny gazed out of the window of his new temporary home. The massive space hulk rolled through the Warp with the great pride of a continent. The gods of the galaxy were gathered within it to prepare themselves for the long wait that would be Manny's mission. They all had gathered champions, and they were all eager to have a part in their ages old obsession. For the first time in millennia, the gods and their children would meet the ponies.

The Emperor spent time with Manny, briefing him on his new task. The guardsman understood a little more every day, but his questions also grew more numerous. The Emperor told him of his time after being confined to the Golden Throne; how he wandered the Warp solely in mind; how he met the ruinous gods, battled them, talked, then battled some more. Gork and Mork, the Eldar, the Necrons, it was all a constant state of mental warfare between gods. The Emperor grew tired during those fights, so he sought refuge and peace of mind in the few moments he did not need to calm the Warp storms or battle the other gods.

He found such peace in Equestria. Human worlds were full of the pains and torments the Emperor battled daily, so they did naught to put his mind at ease, and xeno worlds were not to his liking, but the ponies looked cheerful and their lives were mostly uninterrupted rivers of peace and joy. Their problems were minuscule when compared to the horrors of the galaxy. They were the perfect escape. So it seemed that the Emperor spent more and more time watching the ponies go about their lives, until his visits overlapped with those of Slaanesh.

The Emperor had smiled as he told Manny just how red the Prince of Pleasure had become when caught smiling tenderly at the colorful equines by none other than the Emperor himself. The Emperor had been no less embarrassed, and so they both agreed to never mention it again. But then they saw Nurgle frolicking inside the swamps of the Everfree, and Tzeentch was then caught redhanded inside Canterlot Castle, plotting to re-release a draconequus. It soon became apparent to the gods that they all did seem to share something in common after all.

Manny could hardly believe it. Gork and Mork in some place called the Badlands, fighting over whether dogs or minotaurs were bester; Eldar gods sipping wine on a city made of clouds; Necrons enjoying the underground caverns beneath the mountains, and then there was Khorne... No one really spoke of ponies near Khorne if they wanted to keep their limbs attached to their bodies. Hell, not even Slaanesh dared to do so. Well, as the Emperor had said to him: the only thing Manny needed to know of Khorne and the ponies was that he was part of the plan, and nothing else should he value his life.

Well, what was left of it.

Manny scratched the hole in his side where his liver used to be. It was itchy.

"Umm... sorry, great Emperor, but... aren't we supposed to hate the xenos?" Asked Manny, trying to wrap his head around not hating xenos. "I mean, uh, it's kinda been the right answer to every history test I've taken since kindergarten..."

"Yes, but I've had a thought. You see, Manny, humans can mutate into xenos, and then we kill them, right?"

Manny nodded happily. "Sure thing! I had a cousin that grew a third leg, so we had her tied to a shell and we shot her at the orks. I died a few days later."

"Well, what if we could mutate xenos back to humans?" The Emperor said, and it took Manny a few seconds to process the information.

"So... no xeno killing?" He finally replied after a full minute of thinking. Guardsmen were more effective at thinking in large numbers, much like everything else. "Why?"

"Because they could be human. Their bodies are the only difference." The Emperor said, eyes looking off into space with glorious determination.

"Well, that sounds kinda racist, but okay. So how do we do that, great Emperor?" Manny scratched the massive scab that covered the huge bite the ork had taken out of him. He would have had it fixed, but it seemed only Gork and Mork could repair an ork bite, but neither of them wanted to. They said it made Manny look more 'orky', which was apparently a good thing.

"You'll mix this into the vial that Slaanesh gave you." The Emperor said, showing a small flask to Manny. It contained a crystalline pink liquid inside, and a human stickman was drawn on a tag pasted to the flask. "Add it to Slaanesh's liquid and make the ponies mass produce it. Once the population has drunk from it, they'll be transformed into humans, and we can reunite them to the Imperium as soon as the planet returns to its position in the Immaterium. That should be soon."

"Okay then." Manny took the flask and put it somewhere safe within his Imperial Guard armor. "So, what does Slaanesh's stuff actually do?" No one had yet bothered to tell him a thing about it, except for Slaanesh hiersmself, who not only proved right Manny's suspicion that the liquid looked like semen, but tasted like it too.

"It's meant to protect the ponies from what is to come."

Manny gulped and shut up. Anything bad enough to upset the Emperor, and every other god in the space hulk, was bad enough to not be something he wanted to know about. He was a guardsman, he wasn't supposed to know the big picture; only the pixels he needed to capture.

The walk down to the only functional ship in the entire space hulk was along one, made only longer by the sudden solemnity that surrounded the Emperor. They were going to meet the others, as the Emperor had put it. Every god had procured the, well, the worst of all their devotees, because it just wouldn't do to have their best rip each other to pieces before ever getting inside the ship itself. This mission needed level headed people, and in their obvious absence, cowards and weaklings would have to do.

So Manny went down to the meeting place for the champions of the gods.

"Don't worry, Manny. I have managed to secure you with two fellow Imperium soldiers. They are not battle-hardened warriors, but they may be to your liking." The Emperor said as they reached the last door before their ultimate destination. Lastly, he smiled, patted Manny on the back and wished him luck. "The fate of Equestria lies in your hands, Manny. Make the Imperium proud."

Manny nodded shakily and stepped into the room.

The place was homely enough, Manny guessed. There was less blood and guts in it than other places of the space hulk, and chaos devotees seemed to be less active in the raping and killing. That was nice.

Manny walked around for a bit until he bumped into a young woman, knocking the books she was carrying to the floor and making her yelp. Manny himself bounced back and landed on his butt, but his trusty Imperial Armor was well padded in the butt area, so damage was minimal to the butt. Manny's butt, that is.

"Sorry! Sorry- hey!" Manny screamed as bolter fire echoed around him, above him, and in most directions he could discern. Bullets ricocheted off walls and tore chaos devotees to shreds. Manny screamed and screamed while huddling in a fetal position until the gunfire finally stopped. Only then did Manny dare brave the scary world once more.

"FUCKING SHIT! STOP THAT FUCKING RACKET, YOU CUM GUZZLING, COCK GOBBLING BITCH!" SHOUTED A- sorry, Shouted an angry Space Marine in bright yellow and red power armor with a myriad of profanities and obscene symbols scribbled on it. His helmet was perpetually showing a massive scowl, and the words 'ALWAYS ANGRY ALL THE TIME' were painted with fresh blood across his back. Manny eeped and hugged his knees.

The Space Marine was holding the squirming girl with his massive hands. She was struggling to break free, but it was useless. Once an angry Space Marine took a hold of you, you had a better chance of being loved by a necron than being released.

"I WILL AMPUTATE YOUR WHORE ARMS WITH MY PE- Oh, hey there, Ringarde. How are you doing?" The angry Space Marine unceremoniously dropped the shaken Sister of Battle and walked off to a table in the middle of the room. The lass had stopped breathing and her eyes were large as platters. She wasn't moving either, just laying there, looking at the ceiling in abject horror while the Space Marine smeared a piece of cake on his helmet and spilled a grape soda on the same.

Manny, always the gentleman, approached the fallen Sister of Battle and gently poked her with the tip of his boot.

"Is... is she dead?" He asked into the empty air, not truly expecting a reply. The angry Space Marine had finished his meal and was wiping the cake and soda smears from his armor with the skin of a chaos cultist he'd caught masturbating furiously under the table. Slaaneshi cultists obviously made for the best napkins, since their skin was usually softer than Khorne worshippers, cleaner than Nurglings, and not as hard to catch as Tzeentchspawn.

"I'm fine, thank you." Ringarde squeaked meekly from beneath Manny's shadow. Her eyes were still fixed on a spot in the ceiling, pupils shrunk to the size of an ork brain. Manny ran a hand through his hair and made a face. You know, the type of face you make when someone who just fired about thirty rounds into a crowd of people out of fright and then was assaulted by an angry Space Marine tells you that she's fine. Manny, obviously, didn't buy it. Utilizing his clever Imperial Guardsman interrogation skills, Manny sought to pursue the truth.

"You sure?" He offered the Sister of Battle a hand and she took it after a few seconds of insecurity. She stood up and patted the dust off her armor. Manny took the chance to give her the obligatory Goodies-Scan that all self-respecting men are won't to carry out. White hair, short of stature, slender to the point of skinny but not quite there, big eyes, small nose, tiny mouth; the armor's breasts were an average size per Imperium regulations, but Manny wasn't quite sure she filled them. Overall? The girl was too small to be an actual Sister of Battle.

Then again, Manny was the gretchin equivalent of mankind. Sort of.

"Yes, thank you." Ringarde crossed her arms and stood there. Just stood there, face bright red and downcast with her bangs shielding her eyes. Manny had never been good with awkward silences, nor women, so when the both were combined, he was quite glad that her books were still scattered on the floor.

"Let me get those for you." He said and moved to retrieve them.

"Stahp raaaight therr!" Manny froze in his spot as a spear thrust straight through the book he was trying to take. His eyes travelled up the rotting spear shaft and looked into the eyes of the person holding it. "Hwee have kaptoored thees fhor khay-oohsss!"

Before Manny stood a ragged, tattered, and dirty lass wearing rags for clothes. The front of her panties was visible and, for that matter, stained by something Manny did not quite like the smell of. She wore a black brassiere and her body was tattooed with the symbols of chaos, so all four gods adorned her body.

"Umm..." Manny retracted his hand and backed away slowly; trying to get as much distance between himself and the lass' predatory grin. Two files of dagger-sharp teeth filled her mouth, and one hand was holding a lasgun. "Okay..."

"Fuck's sake, stop that and get back here." A Chaos Marine called out from the far back of the room where he sat on a bench, cleaning his bolter. The lass grinned and turned around.

"Koh-meeng!" She sang and sped across the room back to the side of the chaos marine. She was a Chaos Cultist, Manny reflected. Several other cultists were gathered around the few Chaos Marines, wringing their hands together while making puppy eyes to the massive warriors. Manny could hear their endless chatter even from afar.

"How can I serve?"

"We can serve you, we are eager to please!"

"Grant us the gifts of the chaos gods, great one!"

"Aaah, my spleen!"

"We are your favorites, are we not?"

The Chaos Marines seemed annoyed to hell and back, and some dead cultists on the floor were proof enough that not all Chaos Marines had the patience of a saint.

Manny turned around and shook his head to see if he could clear it of all the madness going on before his eyes. Chaos cultists, Imperium soldiers, Eldar, Orkz, Necrons, and Emperor-knew what else were sharing the same room without too much destruction going on. Manny just couldn't wrap his head around all this.

Scratching the spot where his liver used to rest, Manny went ahead and sat down next to the angry Space Marine and Ringarde, who had fled to the table the moment all eyes were off her. They all sat in perfect silence, except for the more than occasional obscenity or curse from the Space Marine. Manny eventually decided to break the ice.

"So, do you guys-"

"EAT A DICK!" Angry Space Marine slammed a fist against the table and sent food flying everywhere. He then grabbed another cultist and cleaned his armor once more. Manny found himself looking at him from beneath the table, and Ringarde was trembling slightly. So that was the end of conversation for the rest of the hour. Thankfully, they did not need to wait for long. Soon enough the food was gone and the drink ran dry, and as cultists and imperials began to eye each other angrily, a ship docked in the hangar right next to the room they were all in.