The Forge World

by Flapjaw

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Crossover, Dark, Comedy
Length: 17915

The Ultramares, a group of elite super-soldiers, must fight to defend ponykind from its foes in the forty-first millenium.

Captain Tied Flanks of the Ultramares must lead her space marines into battle for the glory of Harmony and the Princesses on a forge world besieged by hogz and dogz and gretchin. It's a common set of foes that shouldn't be too much of a problem, except for the fact that there's several million of them and a significant percentage seem to be carrying weapons looted from space marines they've killed.

Just another day at work for Tied Flanks.

(Warhammer 40k crossover loosely based on Space Marine.)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-09-13 16:00:02 UTC

Planetfall

Many millenia after the ascension of Twilight Sparkle, ponykind has spread its message of Harmony and Friendship across the stars, but other races which they found did not receive this message well. Now the planets ponies have colonized are constantly embroiled in war. Brave ponies fight these wars across the stars, supported by the very real power of their four great Princesses: Celestia of the Solar Light, Luna of the Dreamscapes and the Dark Void, Cadance of Love and Tolerance, and the last of the Princesses to claim her crown, Twilight Sparkle of Magic and Friendship. However, these beacons of Harmony are opposed by traitors aligned with the powers of Chaos and the Dark Gods of the Immaterium. The most dangerous of them being Tzeentch of Guile and Change, Nurgle of Rot and Plague, Khorne of Bloodshed and Anger, Slaanesh of Pleasure and Pain, and Malal of true Entropy and absolute Chaos. However, the loyalists have an advantage on this front, for Discord, God of Chaos and Disharmony, gave up his magic to the Princesses so that he could be betrothed to Celestia without political complication. His sacrifice has aided ponies in their struggles against Chaos for millenia, but Chaos is not the only threat which ponies face.

A hog mob descends on forge world Graia in their heavy rok transports, backed by teeming packs of diamond dogz and malformed gretchin. The roks fall to the planet like obscenely large hail and with just as much frequency, several million hogz assaulting but a few hundred royal guard, who desperately attempt to protect the manufactorums' teams of maintenance ponies. In this lopsided assault, only one hope remains for the survivors: the Princesses' own space marines, genetically engineered super-soldiers created with the genes of the Princesses themselves. The most gifted of their ranks inherited the alicorn trait from their makers, but others still have strange and unique abilities, and all of them are formidable warriors and worthy friends. They would not abandon this world to the hogz and dogz, but there is conflict in many systems and only so many battle sisters may be spared for one planet. The Blood Ravens have dispatched a small detachment of their fourth company, but the second company of the Ultramares has already arrived, and I am leading them.

Now we make planetfall, and we are not alone in doing so.

Thunderhawk Lance of Jest flies elegantly around drifting royal wrecks with their engines still active and little else, dodging more frantically around the strike vessels moving in attack runs, the pilot a mare in power armour with the Ultramare blue and a modest amount of gold trim. Lance of Jest is likewise adorned with colour, as are the space marines within, three of which having more gratuitous applications of gold and friendship seals on their armour than the others.

The first of these, Lens Drops, is a tech adept with only one augmetic limb sprouting from her left shoulder just behind the shoulder pad, a laser weapon equipped on the limb. Her useless bat-like wings are safely tucked down under her armour, the appendages not powerful enough to grant her flight whilst armoured. Her back hooves are armoured in "power hooves," pieces of wargear that will make her buck extremely dangerous, even to vehicles. Her right foreleg has a scoped bolter built into the armour and can be fired by electric signals from Lens's implants. Similarly, the combat knife half as long as her left limb can be summoned the same way bolter rounds are fired, capable of sliding outward for melee combat. Speaking only of raw military rank, Lens is the lowest of the three, but her mechanicus expertise will be exceptionally useful during a mission on a forge world. Her helmet is black on the right side and white on the left, while the rest of her armour is standard Ultramare blue, to distinguish her as the field tech specialist. Bat-ponies such as her are rare amongst Ultramares, and most seem just as inclined toward technology as Lens Drops.

The second has served the chapter for 225 years, a true veteran sergeant by the name of Sunbeam; though, she is sometimes referred to as "Snide" by her battle sisters in reference to her sense of humor. While Lens prefers the reliability of permanently attached arms, Sunbeam values the versatility of interchangeability. Her right side has a single-edged chainsword with a metal hoof grip, and her right forelimb has a detachable bolter that she can exchange for weapons salvaged on the battlefield. In a crusade against the tyranids, a race of hive-minded parasite creatures, she lost her left forelimb, which has since been replaced by a bionic parody of the leg. The metallic contraption has a removable plasma gun that can be replaced by the storm bolter on her left side, the plasma for punching through armour, and the double-bolter for mowing down huge mobs of foes. Her back hooves have small punching rockets, not large enough to get the earth pony airborne, but certainly strong enough to propel her forward with unexpected swiftness, allowing her to catch the foe off-guard when charging. This addition to her armour was made after she lost her right eye to an eldeer weapon, the injury hidden by her red helmet, indicating her rank as a sergeant. Earth ponies like her have even greater longevity than a typical space marine, and despite the age that can be seen in her expression her muscles are still healthy and powerful.

I am the third, the commander of the 2nd company of Ultramares, taking over from our previous captain who died in battle by my side. My helmet is a brighter shade of blue than the rest of my armour, with gold leaf patterns moving up my temples from the front of the mouth-piece to denote my rank of captain. My helmet also has a horn guard, which enhances the power of my magic, but it also has the unfortunate side effect of reducing my ability to more finely manipulate my environment. I specialize in manipulation and disruption magic, which has greatly assisted me on the fields of battle for 150 years. My left side bears a flamer that can be fired by my implants, facing away from my shoulder pad to burn foes at my side. My left hoof guides a scoped stalker bolter, perfect for long range fire and armor piercing, while my right leg guides an anointed relic bolter, a weapon much like the bolters we have now, save that it was made long ago in the golden age of technology. On my right side is a gold adorned, double-edged chainsword, but it is not my only melee option. I forwent back-hoof enhancements to maintain the mag-lock capability of the plasteel and adamantium covered by ceramite and gold, allowing me to keep a short power ax on my back left leg and a pair of combat knives on my right. I'm a bit of a melee combat enthusiast, and I have some severe anger issues that I struggled with for quite a few decades before learning to hide it with false stoicism. Alicorn sisters have more powerful magic than I, a mere unicorn, but are also more vulnerable to chaos magic due to their power. My status as a unicorn is the reason I am alive today.

There are six other Ultramares deploying with us, one with a flamer for crowd control and the others with bolters to take out enemy gunners and finish off burning stragglers. I should know; I'm the one who decided on their equipment. Like my battle sisters, I have leather straps along my thighs and flanks with several pouches for ammo. Mag-locking is not reliable enough to hold items as small as bolter magazines, as heavy fire could overcome the magnetic system and send the ammo flying. We all have vox casters in our helmets linked to our communication systems for short-range messaging, as well as back-up casters in our neck-line in case of helmet-loss. Lance of Jest is equipped with a jump pack for each of us, dual-rocket propulsion systems designed for short combat jumps and rudimentary maneuvering. The plan had been for each of three thunderhawks to land near large manufactorums, so the squads delivered to the ground could then use the jump packs to reach their primary objectives. In the case of the force accompanying me, the manufactorum was Ajakis and the objective a warlord class titan dubbed Invictus. That plan had changed since I heard Lens Drops say this: "Captain, we aren't receiving any more distress signals from the royal guard, and the orbital defense guns around Ajakis are now targeting royal vessels rather than the hog's fighter craft. There's a priority signal… It's one of the dogs leading the enemy's ground assaults. Idle boasting."

"Play it over the internal speakers of Lance of Jest," I command with just as much bitterness as I hear in Lens's voice. "Let's hear what our enemy has to say."

"We have your talkie things, ponies, and your big guns are ours! When Grimskull lands, your giant stompy things will be ours too! We gave you your chances to surrender already. If you won't be slaves then you'll be corpses! WOOO! WOOOO-WOOOO! WOOO--" Lens Drops drops the signal without prompting, one of our sisters behind us muttering, "Disloyal filth."

"Those creatures of Equus joined the hated xenos millenia ago," Sunbeam intones. "We will purge them all."

"Not today, it seems." I turn a questioning gaze toward Lens at her strange statement, not that she can tell with my helmet in the way. "Our sensors show that the defense batteries have found us. Their firing arcs are lining up with Lance of Jest's current trajectory."

"Damnable mutts!" Our pilot, Sordid Flight, exclaims her frustrations as she prepares for evasive maneuvers.

"The strongest of those defense guns is an orbital cannon," I begin, "strong enough to punch through the shields of our battle barge and kill all of our sisters in orbit, and we cannot allow that."

"Even with royal ground vox casters uncompromised, a precision strike from the barge could damage the manufactorum or even Invictus," Sunbeam mentions. "Our front-line forces need the supplies this manufactorum provides. We'll have to disable the gun in person."

"Twisting and looping through heavy fire then." There is a steely resolve in Sordid's voice, a dangerous resolve. "Won't be the first time."

"I've run the simulation six times with the gifts of the mechanicus," Lens interrupts vehemently. "We are surrounded by dog-controlled guns on all sides. We will all be dead in fifteen minutes."

"The captain said--"

"That's alright, Sordid… Lens is right, we need to be a smaller target." I give the jump packs a meaningful glance, grinning to myself as I secure one to my back. "Sordid, could you be a dear and turn around."

"Captain, you just said--"

"And open the deployment hatch, of course." Sordid must be checking her cameras while Sunbeam is following my example and the others are gaping at us, because her voice has quite a bit of amusement in it when next she speaks.

"Yes indeed, captain. I shall assist you in your reckless leap into Tartarus." I feel Lance of Jest twist around as her rear deployment hatch opens to reveal the chaotic battle taking place in Graia's atmosphere.

"This is your plan?" Sunbeam remarks snidely. "It's not one of your more brilliant ideas is it, Tight Ass?" I barely manage to ignore the agitating nickname for the sake of responding in kind.

"I doubt that nickname applies in this particular circumstance, but yes. We will disable that gun ourselves or die trying, unless you'd like to go home already, Snide."

"Not before having a word or two with that boastful mutt."

"Is this wise, captain? Nine space marines is still too large a target, and jump packs are not designed for this sort of descent."

"That is why only the three of us will be going." Lens nods uncertainly, beginning to don her pack. "We will squeeze between those firing arcs like rain through holes in a roof."

"Don't be so confident, captain." Sunbeam admonishes me, despite the fact that she has already prepared to join me. "We will crack over that fire like rain over thick grass. The chances of us landing together are naught but nil." I know Sunbeam's experience is valuable, but I'd prefer her to provide its benefit without being so aggravatingly rude about it. I growl in frustration and leap into the madness below, not even bothering to look behind me as Sordid returns the Lance of Jest to our battle barge. Even surprised as she was, I'm certain Sunbeam managed to make an exit, but Lens was still attaching her pack when I jumped. My anger has failed to serve me yet again, as I have separated us long before this madness had a chance to. I gun each rocket individually to avoid drifting wrecks and gun fire, trying to calm myself as I scan the aerial battle for any signs of a turnaround--

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" A hog gunship with a quad-cannon near the cabin is between me and the ground, and while I could easily maneuver around it its primary weapon is tearing royal vessels asunder. Each ship it fells was holding a crew of at least a hundred guardsponies before it was gutted, and I feel my anger returning in full force. The xenos will pay for this. I spot a group of green-skinned gretchin, runt hogz who are sprouted incapable of growing fur and are typically frail and useless, and I angle my decent for the center of their group. My auto-senses count them for me, but I ignore the reading. The number is made irrelevant as I land, my suit giving off a huge electrical discharge that kills them all as it stabilizes my landing. Judging by the paint job of this gunship, this horde distinguishes itself with red paint and yellow highlights.

"A pony has come to play?" Hatches that blend into the deck burst open as I am surrounded by seven dogz, all of them carrying blades that any self respecting space marine would laugh at. I'd barely consider them knives, but if they hit me in the right spot they could easily bypass my armour. Their armour is even more of a joke, however, as they all appear to have the idiocy to believe mere leather vests will protect them. I pull my combat knives from my right hindleg and cut the throats of the first two dogz before the others can register that I've moved. The third blocks my overhead strike with his 'ax,' but doesn't notice my other blade until it cuts away his hand. I press in to finish him off, but another slams into my chest to keep me back. I nearly instantaneously activate my mag-locks on my rear hooves, holding me in place on the metal decking and gutting the dog trying to move me. As he hits the deck clutching his stomach another takes a leaping swing at my right, the sixth of them closing in on my left, the seventh rushing me head-on, and another that just came up from below behind the others charging at my flanks. I disable the mag-lock, deftly duck under the leaping swing of the fifth dog, smash the gutted one's neck as I put my left forehoof down, put my right knife into the path of the one who just missed me, and buck the one behind me with enough force to send him flying off the gunship. The one clutching his stump stands up as I throw disruptive electrical magic at the metal handles of the weapons of his only remaining packmates, and I finally finish what I started by separating three heads from six shoulders.

"WOOOOOO‼ WOO WOO!" Diamond dog alphas have come to greet me, much larger beasts with thicker skin and metal armour. Their armour is inlaid with precious gems and one of them is carrying a bolter. A bolter. A space marine weapon.

Smoke trails away from my stalker bolter. One shot, one kill. "Looting savages." The three that remain look quite a bit more nervous now. I gun my jump pack, watching them from above as I switch out my knives for the power ax. "YAAAAAH!" I rocket back down, driving my ax clean through a helm and the skull below with both forehooves, my back hooves hitting the deck and shocking the other two alphas. I pull my ax out and swing at a neckline weakness in another's armour, but before I can move on to the last one a triplet of beefy hogz charges at me from further along the deck, their back-mounted machine guns blazing.

"WAAAAAAGH!" I send a shock into the helmet of the furthest of them, causing him to twitch away and run right off the deck. I quickly throw the body of the alpha on my ax into the path of the lead hog and shoot the next in the face with my stalker bolter. The damned thing's thick armour repels the sharp and explosive bolt, which I was not expecting, and it barrels straight into me. My world is spinning for several seconds as I'm sent over the edge of the gunship myself, but I kick on my jump pack immediately, staring down at my foes. One hog is still trying to dislodge his tusks from the alpha dog with my ax in its neck, another is taunting me, and one I didn't notice before has started firing rockets at me.

Oh shit.

I spin out of the way just in time, and the gunship begins to drift off to avoid a volley from a royal gunship. The air shakes as the royal vessel is blown out of the sky next to me by a shot from the orbital defense cannon, and my eyes narrow as I check my pack's fuel. "Well, it seems I'll be needing a new ride." I use the last of my fuel to pursue the hog gunship, barely managing to reach the edge of the deck before my fuel runs out, a hog with a giant rocket on his back chasing me through the air the entire way; hogz with such single-rocket jump packs call themselves stormboyz. I touch down galloping, pulling off the pack and smashing it into the face of the hog who toppled me as I continue forward, pulling my chainsword into my hooves. "Purge the xeno!" I rev the sword as I bring it about to cut off the head of the struggling hog, and immediately swing it about to my next target, cutting the remaining alpha in half. At the same time, my teeth close around the handle of my power ax, dislodging it as I pass. I turn around, dropping my chainsword on the deck to fire my relic bolter at the hog who fired rockets at me, my other hooves mag-locking to the decking and my mouth slamming my power ax between rocket and hog as the stormboy attempts to pass. The separated rocket pack smashes into a hog plane behind me, removing a wing and condemning the vehicle. I hadn't planned on that last bit, but it's a nice bonus. My ax executes the stormboy, while my bolts kill the rocketeer. Bolter rounds are self-propelled, so distance allows them to accelerate and increases their stopping power.

I place my melee weapons back where they belong, slowly advancing toward the quad-cannon and killing any ambushers with my relic bolter and flamer. It's almost insultingly easy, as if I've already killed the ship's best fighters on my arrival, and I find myself before the quad-cannon in but a moment. Its design is as simple as I expected from hogz, and with the beasts who were manually turning it dead I simply have to do the same thing. I grunt with exertion as I begin to turn the massive weapon toward the cabin, hoping to punch through and destroy the engines behind it. There's no firing controls up here, so I have to hope that these creatures are too stupid to stop shooting. All of the anti-armor explosives were being carried by my more lightly equipped sisters.

An absolutely massive hog stomps out of the cabin, a perpetual sneer on his bald and painted face, with so many weapons attached to him that I can barely tell that his fur is black. My auto-senses go haywire trying to catalog all of the dangers, and now he's screaming at me. "Get off my ship, space marine!" He speaks almost dismissively, as if I am merely a pest to him, and then the world explodes.

Well, my world explodes. I seem to have taken a rocket to the face. My helmet is completely blown apart, exposing my creamy beige fur, scarlet mane, and aqua-green eyes to the smoke of the explosion. My nose is bleeding, but I ignore the damage and focus on continuing to turn the quad-cannon. I catch a glimpse of the hog retreating into the depths of the cabin as the weapon finally comes into position, and soon the nose of the ship is pointing to the planet below. I reactivate my hoof mag-locks and watch the decent, absorbing as much information about where I'm about to crash into as possible before the inevitable comes.

My world shakes again and I find myself buried under mounds of rubble and corpses, something along the way hitting the back of my exposed head quite hard and wow… I feel a bit… drowsy.

When I finally come to I realize that that hurt… a lot. "Uuuh…" My auto-senses are much more limited without my helmet, but it's fairly easy to deduce that I am covered in junk. "Come on, Tied Flanks… you're destined for better than this. Your Cutie Mark says so." I groan as I force my way up in spite of the weight, worming out from under the largest pile of metal and kicking away part of a barricade that had become another part of the mess when the crash occurred.

WARPONIES 40000

SPACE MARINE

I seem to be staring at nothing; posing, if you will. Odd. I guess I spaced out. I swiftly stop doing whatever in Tartarus I was doing and start moving. With any luck I'll have landed close enough to one of my squadmates to pick up their transmissions on short-range vox. I just have to keep moving about until I receive one such transmission.

Unless they are already dead. If they are, I'll never be getting any messages. Checking my hastily constructed mental map I start moving toward the manufactorum. I'm currently traversing the second floor of a large warehouse, and there are several more, as well as defensive bunkers of similar size, between Invictus and I. My worries for Snide come to an abrupt and welcome end as she contacts me, but what she is actually saying is not so welcome. "So nice of you to rejoin the fight, captain. Last time I tried you all I got was snoring."

"How long was I out for?"

She snorts before she answers, my vox receivers crackling. "No more than seven minutes, which is still too long on the battlefield." No pony without the genetic enhancements of a space marine could have recovered so quickly, but Sunbeam makes a good point. Unfortunately for her, I was tired of her attitude when I left the Lance of Jest.

"You are my senior, but not my superior. I have a lot to be caught up on and much slaying to do, so I'd appreciate a steady stream of tactical data with less condescending japery. What of Lens Drops."

"I've had no word from her, which has me worried." A convenient hole in the wall lands me outside, a mob of gretchin watching two of their number attempting to gut each other for some trivial reason. "She was too concerned about the defense batteries. I fear she wasn't quite so conscious of the other threats in the sky."

"If she is alive, we will find her eventually." I quickly fire off several bolts in quick succession, not missing a single shot, and each one powerful enough to blow apart the infirm gretchin. "She has a particular distaste for hogz, and she's had enough time to give us a corpse trail to follow."

"Unless she's just sleeping like you were." I smirk, moving in the direction the gretchin were retreating in. More of them amusingly try to ambush me, and I stomp them into paste.

"If you weren't so damned cute I don't think I'd like you very much, Sunbeam." This got a hearty laugh out of the scarred veteran, whose form is anything but cute in her mind. I think she's a bit too harsh on herself on that front, but she's definitely just a friend. My best and oldest friend, in fact… the only one I have left.

Suddenly, explosion. Specifically a demo charge that conveniently removes a wall from my path, and is inconveniently replaced by the two gunner hogz who set it off. "You're gonna die!" One of them screams, my ears ringing and folding back as I hear the full force of their bestial voices without my helmet to serve as a buffer against the noise.

I'm facing gunner hogz without my helmet.

Ponies have been blessed and cursed with large and adorable heads, which hold in them substantial and advanced brains, and they also make excellently large targets, the second point especially disconcerting because, did I mention I don't have my helmet?

They open fire, and I roll under the bullet storm toward the left, charging into them shoulder first, all of us becoming tangled together in a writhing heap of kicking limbs as I struggle to reach my knives. One of them ends up on top of me, his weight keeping all four of my melee weapons locked to my sides as the other swings a blade of his own into my shoulder pad. The one above me is staring at my exposed face and begins to chuckle to himself, which I interpret as a bad sign. Hog females are even more uncommon than pony males, and what these two would do to a lesser mare in their clutches doesn't bear thinking about. I feel my anger rise as I realize that these same two may very well have committed the crime I am envisioning, if the sordid state of Graia is anything to judge by, and I shove my relic bolter's barrel between the teeth forming this hog's stupid grin and fire, causing his meager brains to explode all over me. His partner has regained his bearings by now, and he swings his blade toward my neck, but my forehooves are in the way. I quickly grab hold of his hooves before he can pull away, offering him my most hateful sneer. He seems understandably intimidated, and his condition deteriorates further as I unleash a continuous yell of righteous fury, his form shaking and his pupils shrinking as my horn begins to spark. In large groups, hogz are fearless, but alone they are cowards, and the energy of my hate explodes from my horn, tossing away the corpse on top of me and knocking the other hog off his feet.

I force myself to calm down, if only enough to stop yelling, and stand over my disgusting foe. It is still disoriented, the poor beast. I grab a tusk in one hoof and a shoulder in the other, twisting its neck and ending its life. "Remember to turn off your vox caster next time you do that." Oh yeah, that's still a thing that exists.

"Sorry, Snide. I do hope your ears aren't bleeding."

"Not yet, but you know how persistent these fuckers can be. Also, they seem to have some primitive form of jamming array up and running, so that might explain our problem with Lens Drops. Don't be surprised when communications start dropping out hither and thither."

"Understood. I assume that means long-range vox is out of the equation?"

"Until we can boost it somehow, yes. There are too many other problems for us to be diverting to destroy the jamming array, and besides that I've no idea where the damned--"

"…Sergeant?" Static. "Damn." As I move on from my most recent fight I reload my relic bolter with a fresh magazine, something I already had to do on the gunship. I only had six extras to start with, and I'll have to exchange my flamer's fuel canister for one of the four back-ups soon. My stalker bolter only has one of ten bolts left in the current magazine. "WAAAAAGH!" Zero of ten bolts left in the current magazine. I swap it for one of two extras and move on.

There's a walkway above me with dog traffic, and another couple of gunner hogz in the mix. "The pony 's all alone!" One of the dogz announces, getting the attention of the lot. A few of them drop what they were doing and jump down for a chance to gut me, including one of the hogz, but the others keep going. They obviously have something important to do, as the hog who stayed above takes cover behind a pillar and opens fire to cover the backs of the retreating dogz. I protect myself by lowering my head and twisting to the right, beginning to purgate those charging me with fire and simultaneously firing bolter rounds into the dogz above. A few of them get away when I am interrupted by the hog on the ground, who barrels into my side in spite of the flames currently burning away his fur.

I grunt as I hit the dirt, and then yelp when a bullet gives my left ear a new piercing. The hogz are laughing at me, even as dogz writhe and die in fire. All I can see is red as I twist about and buck for all I'm worth, caving in one hog's skull. My sergeant, my sisters, my entire squad wreathed in warpfire, dissolving before the power of Chaos. "Die, filth!" I lift both my forehooves and fire stalker and relic rounds into the pillar the remaining hog is hiding behind, shattering the ferrocrete bit by bit with each small explosion until the pillar is broken enough for a portion of the tortured roof to fall and crush the cowering alien under its weight.

I reload my weapons anew, painfully aware of how much ammo I just wasted, and equally perturbed by my failure to stop those dogz from escaping to complete whatever mission they had been given. Perhaps I'm not the only one to have survived that crash back there. It seems very likely that the huge hog I saw on the gunship was none other than Grimskull, the leader which the impertinent dog who took the vox array mentioned. He must have escaped the rubble without as harsh a blow to the head as my own was, and is even now leading his horde, coordinating them toward some goal of domination. He seems smarter than the average hog, and may yet succeed in taking the planet.

I hear bolter fire. One of my sisters is in trouble. I gallop at full speed, coming upon a place that used to be the center of a vehicle repair garage before a hit from some obscenely large weapon left it a clearing of ferrocrete dust surrounded by 'balconies' that are the exposed other floors, Celestia's light shining down on my battle sister. Half her face is given over to the mechanicus, black metal with a red optic lens, while the other half has brilliant azure fur and a stunning off-white mane, the hair having an unusual metallic sparkle to it like painted brass, and her biological eye has a shining golden iris. Lens Drops. Her augmetic's laser burns through a hog's eye as the xenos and turncoats of Equus pour into the arena from every orifice of the rubble. "Destroy them!" I scream as a greeting and battle-cry, rushing in on three legs and firing my relic bolter at the gunner hogz on the higher floors while Lens hacks away at dogz with her retractable combat knife. She's doing her best, using her laser to keep the foe from surrounding her, but she needs help now. I stop firing and remove my chainsword from its mag-lock, leaping into the fray and cutting the beasts to ribbons.

"They are an endless hoard." Her blade retracts as she takes precision shots at the gunners, killing two in the space of one second, but the fallen are replaced by yet more even as the dust is kicked up from more brawlers pouring in to charge us.

"We will not falter!" I unleash fire from a fresh canister in my flamer, adding my fire to Lens's but keeping my chainsword raised. This place is too large and filled with too many foes for my flames to hold them all back, and I'm forced to lower my bolter so as to swing my blade through another mob. The fight continues until my current flame canister is emptied, making my job all the harder as the mob presses in all around me, and I find myself covered in fresh blood with every passing second.

Lens reloads her scoped bolter and yells to me: "Last mag!" Her laser stops a dog who nearly removes my head and I curse at the news I've just heard.

"Buck! Switch!" I make a wide sweep with my chainsword and toss my power ax to Lens, who charges in to protect me as I raise my stalker bolter and blast heads from shoulders until the gunners have stopped coming and I've completely run out of stalker rounds. Lens shoots out the legs of the last dog I can see, and then smashes her hoof over its head with a disgusted scowl.

She turns to me, disdain showing in her golden eye. "The codex warns against using jump packs to leap blindly into enemy fire, and for good reason." Oh. That's what this is about.

"You're days as a novice are behind you. Why do you still interpret the codex so narrowly?" Her golden eye squints closed, her bionic one pulling back and dimming slightly as she turns away from me. I see her severely damaged helmet out of the corner of my field of view, and make the assumption that her fall was almost as unpleasant as mine as I lift the broken wargear reverently.

Just when I start to think she won't respond, she opens her eye and speaks in a soft, unsure voice. "I look to its rules for guidance."

"We all do," I say with a friendly smile, passing her helmet back to her. "But there are also benefits to thinking for yourself, Lens Drops… never forget that. I agree that this was a foolish gambit, but still a necessary one, for the sake of our sisters and this infested rock." She huffs, but smiles slightly in spite of herself.

"At least our enemy has--" Boom. Of course there's a boom. The main entrance had been blocked by rubble, but another demo charge fixes that. What follows the mob of gretchin who set the charge is… "Dog walker!" A killa kan, two of its four metal arms ending in circular saw blades and another two with metal pincers. I scowl at the unwelcome interruption, sending out a magical EMP that is only marginally effective at disabling the vehicle. Dogz and hogz both use primitive mechanical systems that don't always use electricity to function, but this also makes their craft sluggish, and I am not.

"You will fall, mutt!" My next magical discharge is strong enough to make corpses of the gretchin, and the dog piloting the kan is busy convulsing in pain whilst I close the distance, stuffing my chainsword through the rectangular viewport in the walker and making minced meat of the creature within. The magical exertion causes my eyes to bleed a little, and I blink several times to clear my vision.

"Remind me not to anger you, Tied Flanks." I pull my weapon free and shake it in a feeble attempt to remove some of the blood caking it. I idly hope that it doesn't jam later from all the gore as Lens passes my ax back to me and mag-locks her useless helmet to her side. "My neckline vox is just as broken as that of my helmet. I hope yours is in better shape."

"It is, and so you will be staying with me from now on, or our good sergeant. We both have working vox casters, but there are dead-zones due to some unforeseen jamming array." She gives me a look that tells me she pities my ignorance.

"That is likely the repurposed ground vox array surrounding the manufactorum. I assume the dogz modified it to serve as a jamming system for our vox casters and not theirs. It's a fairly simple process, even for them, and our communication systems are different enough for theirs to be unaffected."

"Well, I guess we should take back our array then." Her expression is blank for a moment as she processes this, the two of us moving out past the killa kan as she scans the environment and concludes our position.

"Ah…" She smiles deviously. "We aren't very far from the central vox control station, and it is on the way to Ajakis."

"My thoughts exactly." Suddenly, a new voice carries on the wind through the heavy smog and dust. It is a stallion's voice. A pony voice. "Do you hear that?"

"Royal guard?" Lens appears just as surprised as I am.

"I scarcely thought any would be left alive, much less still fighting." We glance at each other for a split second, deciding in that short moment to gallop toward the voice and lasgun fire. There are deep trenches held in their proper state by metal support struts, built to allow ponies to traverse the space between structures even whilst under artillery fire, and we run through them toward the echoing noise until… "There!" Two guards with lasguns and brown camo armour, firing desperately down the other end of the corner they are in. They are both a full meter shorter than my battle sisters and I, and their barrels aren't nearly as long either. They are pure pony life, not genetically modified specifically for war. They know freedoms I will never understand.

"WAAAAAGH!" Now they die, screaming in pain.

"Die unloved and unworthy!" I don't bother to count the xenos nor their turncoat allies, simply hacking away at them until they no longer bother me with their lives. Still, they exist as corpses, and I would kick them for hours if I did not have a burning desire to find and protect those ponies who yet live. I look down the next bend to see several corpses I did not make, those of royal guard and the monsters their laser weapons felled. There are far more fallen guard, these close quarters making the foe's advantage of strength and size dominant. At least they didn't have a chance to desecrate the bodies before Lens and I arrived. "Come on, there must be more still breathing further along."

"The mechanicus aids me. Blessed is the Omnissiah. My advanced auto-senses detect fighting in this direction." I follow Lens as she leads me down several seemingly random bends until we eventually come upon the tail end of a hog charge, royal forces set up behind sandbags in front of a blast door. One of the guards is guiding a mounted heavy bolter, while another slays beasts twice her size with an adamantium halberd. "Cursed xenos!" Lens opens fire with what little ammo she has left as I slam head-first into the nearest hog, barreling him over and galloping into the ranks of the guard.

"Space marines! The Princesses' angels of death fight with us!"

"Purge the alien!" I scream in answer, turning about and putting my third flame canister to use. "Drive them back!" A hog takes a laser to the back of the neck as Lens advances to our position, my chainsword making sweeps with the intent to drive the heavily armoured enemies into the heavy bolter's field of fire. The mare beside me slams her halberd down into a hog's brain, a dog jumping over said hog brandishing a blade, only to be deftly kicked away by myself mid-jump and finished by another guard's bayonet.

"By Celestia, we've won!" The stallion who spoke is the one using the heavy bolter, and I offer him an encouraging smile. I feel the need to say something inspiring but am cut off by a choking and sputtering engine.

"Hog armour incoming!"

"Hold fast, ponies! We will win this day!" It's a wartruk with a missile launcher mounted on the front, hogz and dogz pouring out of the back of a canvas covered compartment. A full dozen of them disembark, almost as many as we just killed, and a rocket is fired straight at the heavy bolter. I jump on top of the guard using it, shielding him from the explosion. It's painful, but it isn't a direct hit so no severe damage is done to my armour. I see Lens Drops and the guard with the halberd leading a counter-charge, even though the larger and stronger foes have double their number. I look down and thank the sisters that my luck has held out so well thus far. The rocket hit the sandbags in front of the heavy bolter, shattering the cover and the weapon's mount, but the gun itself remains intact. The guard I just saved watches in awe as I lift the heavy weapon with my forehooves, supporting myself and the hefty gun with my back legs as I fire a quick burst to silence the wartruk gunner for good.

The guard stands, vengeance colouring his features. "Kill them all, mi'lady."

"All of you get down now!" My magic shocks all the foes at the forefront simultaneously so they can't take advantage of the exposed postures of my little ponies as I sweep heavy fire over them and into the filth they were fighting. The hogz and dogz are reduced to heaps of tangled and dismembered limbs in seconds, and the ponies rise to cheer their downfall.

I drop the heavy bolter as Lens joins me, the pony with the halberd coming forward to bow before us. She's a pretty little thing, with several tones of green in her fur, mane, and tail, as well as a sparkling ocean green in her eyes. What a captivating colour it is. "Mi'ladies, you have saved us."

"Rise, guardsmare. You saved yourselves. We thought you dead."

"We would be, mi'lady, if not for lieutenant Mist. He is a rather brilliant tactician, in my view. Over a thousand of this first million invaders have fallen due to his foresight."

"I was worried about the other roks," the stallion intoned. "Of course, now that you're here… purge the xeno, burn the heretic." I can tell Lens is put-off by these jokes, but I also know it is therapeutic for these ponies, so I make sure to speak before Lens can voice her disdain.

"Where will we find this lieutenant Mist?"

"At the front lines with his troops. You can follow the trenches to reach his command bunker. Mind you, I don't know for certain if he is there now. These bastards have control of the primary vox grid."

"We will soon fix that for you. Let no xeno nor mutt pass through this gate."

"Yes, mi'lady!" She pounds her pretty green hoof into her chest in salute and I return the gesture. This is the universal salute of all space marines, and this moment is likely the first in this guard's life in which she has had an appropriate chance to use it. Lens does not salute just yet, quirking a brow at the halberdier.

"You wear no hoof coverings?"

"It's easier to kill the enemies of Equestria when I can more finely control my weapons, mi'lady. If I happen to step on a sharp rock," she begins with humor, "then so be it." Lens joins the salute.

"Well met." We lower our hooves and continue with our duties, the brown-coated stallion who killed a dog with his bayonet opening the blast door for us.

"Through here, mi'ladies. Head up to the upper level and continue through the plaza. The trenches continue beyond that."

"Thank you for your help, guardspony." There is another of their number in front of me, hoof to his head in the salute of the guard. He stands there, saluting me, but not really looking at me, or anything else that I can see, and he is not the only one. Many more stand about this building in the same manner, but ten times their number lie bandaged on the ground in neat rows, dead or dying. I make my way left and toward the stairs to the second floor, hatred for the xenos boiling anew.

"A few hundred against a million hogz, and they fight on." I can't help but to be impressed, but Lens's response is grim, and straight from the codex, which copied it from some other, far more ancient text.

"Only in death does duty end."

"My legs… I can't feel my legs…"

"I got to see a space marine before the end." These souls will be avenged.

"Captain." The vox just cut back in. "I'm at a broken monument near the guard lines." We've just reached the plaza, and bolter fire can be heard in the distance. A monument to Luna with the head, a leg, and a wing removed by some diagonal rend stands miles higher than the three-story defense bunkers surrounding the open plaza. "Says the sergeant for the fourth time, hoping you aren't being jammed… and again. Captain, I'm--"

"Here. We see the monument and are on our way."

"Excellent news, captain. I take it Lens is doing well."

"Her vox is broken and she has about zero bolts."

"Exactly zero, captain," Lens adds, dropping an empty magazine from her bolter.

"Exactly zero."

"Hahaha!" A hog squeals and dies as we approach, no longer relying on vox as we watch Sunbeam taking fatal shots at hogz and dogz we cannot see from a raised platform. Her helmet is strapped to her flanks, the lenses shot out and cracks marring the ceramite. Her fur is a deep navy blue, and the eye that isn't a glass piece is a fierce fuchsia, her mane and tail the same stunning magenta Pinkamena Pie is portrayed with in beautifully crafted artworks. "Worry not, captain." She grins wickedly as another quick burst from her bolter ends a dog's life. "I've saved some pests for you." She jumps down from the platform, walking toward us and briefing me on what she has seen. "The dogz have got that gun well defended, no mistake, but typical dog behaviour would be to dismantle or destroy the gun."

"And certainly not use it to keep our forces at bay," I add thoughtfully. "There's a strategy behind it; their leader is no fool."

"This day is getting interesting." She grins excitedly as she says it, and I can't help but to giggle at her ludicrously dismissive opinion of our enemies. Lens merely huffs at us.

"I don't see what's so funny. We are running out of ammunition and at least three million more xenos are falling from the skies as we speak."

"Yes, bolter rounds are going fast, but their vehicles are flimsy. I barely needed half of my current plasma cell to remove the killa kan they sent my way." I give off a self-satisfied smirk at this information.

"Mine only took me a little chainsword fuel. You are losing your touch, Snide."

"Bah! I bet you zapped it with your pretty little horn, didn't you?"

"…" I sputter a bit as I scramble to respond. "Th-that is beside the point." Before they can share too long a laugh at my expense I interrupt them with more tactical data. "I may have encountered Grimskull on my jump to the surface, when I single-hoofedly destroyed his gunship."

"Right, horn or not, that is impressive." Lens nods in agreement. "Do you think he survived?"

"If the horde hasn't turned on itself then it's still under his control." I reply grimly, knowing the beast still lives.

"Right… I suppose we'll just add that objective to our little checklist then."

"There are the other trenches," Lens points out. "And look who has come to greet us."

"WOOOOOO!"

"Alphas…"

"To the attack!" I leap into the center of the enemy force, swinging my chainsword in wide, cleaving arcs, sending limbs and heads flying in all directions. Sunbeam uses her hoof rockets to jump past me, severing the heads of hog brawlers coming to aid the dog alphas. Lens uses the meager power of her laser to take precision shots at exposed eyes, protecting us from counter-attacks. As we move on into the trenches, Snide's bolter ends the four hog gunners above us, before a look of genuine worry touches her face.

"Dog helicopter." The anti-infantry miniguns mounted on the machine spin to life as the blades on the two wings and tail keep it  aloft and aimed at us. We hide against the wall of the trench as the thing above drifts lower, turning in such a way as to make our cover useless. Sunbeam and I roll under it to avoid its firing arc, but it eerily begins to fly backward as Sunbeam speaks up again. "Where is Lens Drops?" The helicopter suddenly falls, its wings catching on either side of the trench as Lens repeatedly slams her power hooves down onto it. "Ah, there she is."

"Yah! Hah! Gah! Die! Rrrrah!" While Lens pounds away, the energy discharges of her wargear disabling the vehicle, Sunbeam and I step back as the sergeant fires several plasma shots into one of the wings. The pressure and plasma cause the wing to crack apart, the helicopter collapsing to its side and Lens falling off into the trench. With the cockpit now below me I leer at the pilot, lifting my power ax and slamming it into the reinforced glass hatch. Lens recovers and bucks the top armor one last time, the metal caving as she and Sunbeam rush inside, hacking at the reinforcements the helicopter was carrying before we brought it down. I twist my ax and yank away the hatch, using my left forehoof to bring my chainsword down on the pilot and cut him in half. I kick the hatch off my ax as the screaming inside the vessel comes to an end. My squadmates emerge from the hole Lens made and we move on swiftly. No words are exchanged, for we hear guardsponies fighting further along.

"Target that squig!" A two-legged thing with a giant maw filled with sharp teeth and tiny eyes reaches the guards trying to stop it, their laser weapons almost useless against its thick hide. With it so close to them, fighting it is pointless, because just as it latches into a pony's neck the explosives strapped to its back detonate, killing four of the five guards in the area and disorienting the last. A hog gunner finishes him off from behind a piece of ferrocrete.

"No…" Sunbeam expertly removes the gunner with opportunistic shots, but all I can think about is finding more guards and not failing them this time. A mob of gretchin is escorting a squig squad without their fuses lit, likely to get them in position for a charge against the guard. A quick burst from my flamer sets the squigs off early, blowing them and their escorts apart completely. I turn a corner in the trench, a supply box filled with the guards' frag grenades to my right and a battle in front of me. The royal guard had set up explosive barrels in the field, but the hogz using them for cover are too stupid to know why they were painted red, considering they throw red paint on everything they have. Concentrated laser fire sets off a cluster of barrels and kills several hogz, alerting the others to the threat. A few shots from my relic bolter set off the remaining barrels before the hogz can escape them.

"WOOOOO!" Celestia is the Princess to pray to when one must justify necessary evils, so to her do I turn as I throw all the grenades into a veritable horde of pups, the young dogz already firing guns murderously before they are blown apart in one massive explosion. Then more dogz come, older and stronger and more numerous, the guard standing no chance against such numbers as upwards of fifty initiate a charge. Sunbeam is beside me, and she raises her bionic, the plasma switched for the storm bolter as she unleashes fury. While she mows down the majority, Lens and I gallop to the guards' position, cutting away any dogz that reach the sandbags. No heavy weapons this time, but there is another string of frags and another blast door behind us. When the current charge is cut down entirely Sunbeam rejoins us, reloading her storm bolter.

"My last couple of bolter magazines."

"I've still got two extras. Lens, take them." I pass the ammo so that Lens doesn't have to keep hacking with that meager combat knife, Sunbeam at least having a chainsword as well as a dual magazine in her storm bolter and one in her standard one. This gives me one and a half flame canisters, what's left of my current magazine, and still no more stalker bolts. Perfect.

"Hog gunship!" The guards are particularly disconcerted by this news. A hog nob, a massive hog with hyper-thick armour, a giant metal club, and a huge back-mounted machine gun is dropped from the gunship, followed by a dog looter with a heavy bolter and three dog alphas with typical dog blades. Lastly, another alpha drops down in front of them all, a grizzled creature carrying a stolen power sword. Their screams are deafening as they herald the arrival of upwards of a hundred dogz and thirty hogz, all of them rushing our position head-on.

"Grenades, guardsponies!" I command, the frags being thrown hastily into the horde. The foes are disoriented by the attack, their sheer numbers making them easy targets for the explosives, nearly fifty of them already dead as one of them stumbles to the ground in front of me. I scream my lungs off in a way I hope is inspiring as I bring my hooves down over the beast's head, the guards cheering and firing like mad. Laser guns restrict how quickly they can be fired by holding the trigger, so as to prevent overheating, but quickly pulling the hoof-trigger in rapid succession bypasses this safety feature, and that is what these guards are doing as their guns' barrels begin to redden with the heat. "Sisters, bolter fire!" As five of the front runners fall to laser fire in but a second, Sunbeam raises her storm bolter and regular bolter at once, my relic bolter and Lens's scoped bolter also raised. Our weapons roar to life, dropping the foe with ease again and again. They are almost completely depleted of forces until the gunship swings around and drops a dozen more right on top of us. My bolter clicks empty first, and I twist to fire my flamer, the fire forming a protective wall of pain as the guards find their laser weapons' cartridges burning out. One of the guns is disfigured by the heat, becoming useless.

Just as I'm reloading my flamer, a dog leaps over the flames and swings his ax at my head. I duck and he hits my back instead, his feral strength and momentum knocking me to my haunches. He kicks his shin into my lips in an attempt to disorient me before finishing me off, but I endure the blow without blinking, taking him by surprise as I push myself back to my hooves and stab my horn into his throat, a burst of angry magic separating his head from his body and sending both flying back into the horde. Lens has reloaded and now Sunbeam is out of bolter rounds. The sergeant switches to her plasma gun, firing orbs of searing blue energy that eat away the foe and their armour. I leap into melee with my chainsword drawn, finishing off the cannon fodder before being knocked from my feet by one of the alphas. I look up to see an overcharged plasma shot obliterate that alpha's head, only for it to be replaced by two others. Their armour is protecting them from Lens's fire, so I draw my combat knives and deftly deflect their unskilled attacks, piercing a brain with each knife. I don't bother to extract them just yet, holding forth my power ax as the alpha with the power sword approaches. However, the looter with the heavy bolter is firing on the sandbags and crates the guards are hiding behind, and the explosive bolts will make short work of the cover, whilst Sunbeam and Lens Drops fight desperately against the hog nob.

I block an overhead strike from the power sword, my attention elsewhere as I focus my magic on pulling the heavy bolter from the looter, who is aggravatingly putting up a good fight. He's too strong, and my magic too weak. I mutter a prayer to Twilight Sparkle, redoubling my efforts as my eyes begin to bleed and-- GHAK! "Pretty little pony fighter." His claws are on my throat, squeezing the breath out of me, but I can't let him break my focus. The looter can't fire anymore, too busy trying to wrestle back his stolen gun, just a little more… mmf!? This… THING, is slobbering in my mouth! It's KISSING me. No, the gun. Must focus on the gun. rancid smell, disgusting taste, almost have the heavy bolter… there! It has lost the weapon. I'm thrown to the bodies that function as the ground, my vision swimming in the blood my magic has forced from me as-- ow… that hurt. The power sword has cleaved into the side of my back, just behind my left shoulder pad. "There's too much armour in the way of your pretty little flanks, pony." A uselessly disfigured lasgun bounces comically off the alpha's head as he finishes speaking, a surprised look crossing his face… I think. I blink furiously to clear my vision, trying to regain my bearings.

"Rrraaah!" One of the guards has come to my rescue, jumping and slamming his body into the alpha's face shoulder first, the impact enough to relieve the dog of his grip on the powersword in my shoulder and back. I rise to help the guard, but the looter is already retrieving the heavy bolter. The time I bought has run out. I turn toward the thing with my power ax raised, silently sending it spinning forth to cleave into the looter's skull from a distance. The alpha grabs my horn, squeezing it… so hard… dear Twilight, it HURTS. He punches my face, ignoring the guard bucking his leg for all he is worth. "Leave her alone, damn you!" The gunship is back, aiming for the only guard out of cover.

"No! You rotten-- GAH! ROTTEN TURNCOATS!" I hear Lens screaming in indignation as the nob flings her away to focus on Sunbeam, my battle sister coincidentally landing on my problem, rolling away after hitting the alpha and smashing her head against the metal struts of the trench we approached from. I use the freedom of motion to throw myself over the guard, hiding my head under my armoured hooves as the machine gun opens fire. The bullets ping against my armour, rattling my nerves and bruising my skin as I clench my teeth, holding out against the barrage. The gunner seems to give up as the firing stops and I hear the engine drift away, but I also hear squigs roaring and gretchin yelling, their small arms fire spreading everywhere. Before I can get off the guard, the grizzled alpha takes a seat on my back, wrapping his arm around my throat and forcing me into a choke-hold. He's laughing at me, licking my ears, enjoying himself… the squigs jump down from the top of the trench, and with Sunbeam busy…

Lens has recovered, the laser on her augmetic setting off the explosives on the squigs before they can reach any targets. I throw my head back into the dog's chin, stunning him before rolling to my right. With him beneath me and the guard free I slam my elbow into the dog's chest, loosening his grip as I finally roll back to my feet. I catch a glimpse of Sunbeam, pressed against the blast door and pushing against the nob with all her might, its tusks pinning her in place. The alpha is on me again, continuing to grope at the only exposed flesh he can find, holding my jaw shut with one hand and groping my neck with the other. I hastily finish screwing in my last flame canister, activating the weapon and setting the fiend's fur afire. He's rolling around in the corpses to extinguish himself when Sunbeam is flung straight into Lens, the lone guard fighting desperately against a mob of gretchin as the other ponies attempt to reload their burning lasguns. The nob is ignoring the guard, focusing on the best fight and turning toward Sunbeam and Lens. "It's a fight now!" It screams, barreling forward.

The alpha jump-kicks my face with fire still licking his right arm, grabbing at the handle of the powersword still stuck in my back. He has kicked me into reaching distance of my chainsword. A bullet from a gretchin passes in front of my eye, giving a bit of a shock, but it won't slow me down. I've had enough.

The guard tramples the offending gretchin as I reach back and grip my chainsword, the dog lifting his head out of reach and gripping the powersword for one last yank which I deny him. I stab the revved weapon into his left thigh and he howls in pain as I release the chainsword, lifting my hooves to his wrist and twisting, breaking his hand before pulling the powersword out myself, stabbing it into the nob's shoulder as it attempts to charge past. It falls to the ground, kicking and squealing in pain as the dog punches my face with his good hand, but I instantly counter by slamming my forelegs into his arm from above and below, breaking the appendage. He falls to his knees, growling in anger as he tries to grip his broken arm with his broken hand. I slam my hooves at either side of his head, shutting him up as he begins to drool stupidly. I hold his shoulder with one hoof, kicking his face with the other with enough force to shatter his jaw and his neck, blood spraying over my already blood-stained armour and fur.

The nob stands, huffing and puffing at me. "You're gonna die!" Unlike with the dog, the only lust in the hog's eyes is bloodlust; a welcome change.

I push the dog's corpse down to the rest of the bodies, squaring my shoulders and sneering at the nob. "You first." He charges, roaring angrily, but I merely roll to the side as his tusks and skull slam into metal struts. He shakes his head in disorientation, turning about to face me.

"That ain't fair. Fight me proper!"

"I'm right here, hog!" He charges again with renewed vigor, failing to notice how close to a strut I am. I jump at just the right moment, climbing over him as he slams into the strut, yanking out the powersword with my teeth as I pass his right shoulder and bucking his hindlegs as I land behind him, twisting about to stab the sword into his flanks before backing away.

"Hey… That kinda hurt." The guards are staring out at us with shock and awe as the hog turns toward me more slowly, limping slightly. Of course, the gunship comes back. With the gretchin killed, the unarmed guard takes cover with my squadmates while I try to shield my face with my hoof, the nob charging me with a loping gait as I am pinned by a heavy machine gun. I need to shield myself from this fire, and the nob provides a way by viciously trying to kill me. I lower myself just as he strikes out with his tusks, my belly against the corpses for a split-second until I rise and stab my horn into the nob's neck. I let his armour and body protect me from the gunship until the gunner inside decides to stop, not too keen on shooting a nob. I kick the thing off my horn and turn toward the gunship, screaming my hatred as I repeatedly throw bursts of magical energy into its shields. Blood spurts from my eyes as the shields reach critically low status, the vessel veering off desperately, managing to escape my fury. The nob manages to stand, and I punt him back down with my hoof, gripping his head and twisting until his massive neck finally snaps.

"You will slay no children of her majesties today, hog." I quickly retrieve all the melee weapons that matter to me, putting mine back in their places and securing the recovered power sword to my back. My suit's automated healing systems administer drugs that will facilitate faster natural mending of my genetically enhanced organs, bringing my internal bleeding under control. I lick the blood from my eyes off my lips, as well as the blood from the cracks in the lips themselves from the blows I took to the head, my bullet-pierced left ear twitching irritably. I walk up to my squadmates and the unarmed guard with his brown coat and armour reddened by gretchin blood. He gives a shaky bow before us.

"Space marines, thank you… I thought we were done for." He seems surprised when I wrap him in a gentle hug, nuzzling the side of his head and kissing his cheek.

"Thank you, guardspony, for saving my life." When I release him he just stands there for a moment, touching a hoof to his cheek in disbelief. Then he starts a happy canter to the other guards, a grin splitting his face, upon which he falls when he gets tangled in the mangled corpses of our foes.

Lens giggles at the sight, but falls when she tries to stand. Sunbeam presses into her side, the adept's augmetic wrapping around the sergeant's shoulders. I take her other side and we slowly make our way to the blast door, our battered bodies healing themselves with supernatural speed. "Where is lieutenant Mist?"

"Through here, mi'ladies, but… the door is sealed."

"As in, welded shut?" I do not need such bad news right now.

"Well, not particularly--"

"Are you kidding me!" It's the stallion from before, the one who saved my life. He looks indignant. "They are Ultramares! Let them through!"

"That's not our decision--"

"Hey!" He's pounding on the metal now. "Open up, damn it!"

We walk up beside him, speaking calmly but firmly as one. "Open this door." The guards on the other side must have been cooed, because the portal is finally open to us a moment later. I turn toward the guard with his plain brown coat and short-cut soot-black mane, covered in the blood of xenos, and I say: "I want you with me."

"I… uh… w-what?"

"Come."

"Uh… yes, mi'lady." I'm feeling a bit better already, and Lens is once again standing on her own power. We are walking through a command bunker with back-up vox arrays, barely functioning past all the interference from the repurposed array held by the dogz nearby. There are a few injured here, but most of the medical supplies must have been in the other building on the other side of the plaza, not that I noticed any such supplies.

"You'll need a new gun, of course. Go and fetch one, please. Double-time."

"Yes, mi'lady!" He pounds his hoof into his chest before moving off down a side passage to an improvised armoury, my sisters and I approaching a lanky stallion with a bright grey coat, dark grey mane, and piercing cyan eyes.

"The scouts have returned, sir," one mare reports.

"How many?" He asks.

"Two."

"Damn," and he sees us. "I sent out ten."

"Lieutenant Mist," I greet as we all pass salutes for some reason. Screw this garbage, there's no time. Guards are dying.

"You are in command?" Damn it, Snide! Wasting time with pointless questions.

"Yes, mi'lady. Unless my superiors rise from their graves. So far, they seem content to stay put." There's a massive explosion in the sky behind him, and he turns from us to look out the viewport. "It's that damn gun. We can't get any of our reinforcements through its field of fire."

"What of the other guns?" Sunbeam asks. "Aren't they a concern?"

"No," Lens answers. "I recognize this system. Captain, we can save them."

"You know your machines, space marine." Mist smiles at us, but grimaces again when his attention returns to the gun. "The hog rok landed close to that gun. The defense array works on a slave component system. All the secondary guns are controlled from the main battery. When the hogz took it, they took them all, but all we have to do to reverse it is take back the same battery. Without reinforcements, we stood no chance, but perhaps with your help."

"You see, captain? It is a simple matter." I smile and nod at Lens in affirmation, quite pleased with the news.

"We will take the gun, and you will get your reinforcements."

"Right, so how many of my ponies will you need to back you up?"

"Just one," I say with a smirk, my stallion returning to me.

"Riflepony Sturdy Branch with a fresh gun, reporting for duty, mi'ladies, sir."

"A conscript?" This news is not expected. He seemed to fight with such zeal. Was it all really only for his own survival?

"Riflepony," he responds nervously, trying to deflect attention away from how he was recruited by showing his current determination to serve.

"I admire his bravery," I say with an edge of defensiveness, Mist bowing his head to me.

"Of course… this way."

"I don't suppose you have any bolter magazines?" Lens asks without any real hope.

"You'll find plenty in the manufactorum and the armouries around it, but bolters are useless to my ponies. We can't even lift them, let alone endure their kick-back."

"What about in the primary array control room?"

"Right," Lens says. "That structure is very close to us now. We can hit it on the way to the main battery."

"It should have what you need in its secondary armoury," Mist replies. "If the dogz haven't looted it clean just yet."

"Lens, do you have any shots left?" She pulls her magazine out and estimates the bolt count by checking how full the thirty-round magazine is.

"Perhaps fifteen." Sunbeam solemnly reloads her plasma gun, and I note that she has only two full power cells remaining. I've one canister for my flamer, but at least it is mostly full.

"I've a line of basilisk artillery cannons set up further ahead, and a heavy bolter emplacement guarding a choke point," Mist informs us. "If we can push past that then you can divert to the vox array, and then follow the maps you'll find there to the defense battery." Mist leads us past the basilisks she spoke of, but before we reach the choke point with Mist and the three guards moving there with us the ground erupts. "Dog diggers!" Vehicles with vicious metal implements designed to churn through rock and dirt pop up with dog cargo unloading to greet us, three of the things dispensing a fresh horde of some of the most vile of the species. Even more rancid than the others, these are the dogz that spend the most time underground, digging for gems with their bare paws. As their grimy bodies lope forward, promising desecration and degradation, I leap forth to meet them.

"For the Princesses!" Their armour is reinforced by magical gems, making them impervious to standard anti-infantry weapons. With that in mind, I draw the power sword to break through such defenses, Sunbeam's plasma fire a great aid in breaking down their shielding. Lens preserves her bolter rounds, joining me in melee combat, picking off stragglers with her combat knife. Sturdy Branch stabs furiously at any foes who fall with his bayonet, stabbing between armour plating and discharging his laser weapon directly into flesh, bypassing the magical shields. We move in synchronous motion, my swings fluidly flowing together as I dance from foe to foe, cutting them all down in droves even as four more diggers arrive. Mist ruthlessly wrestles with the enemy, wrenching their necks and shooting between their armour while the remaining three guards cover Lens's back and Sunbeam covers them from the rear. Even their gems cannot save them, as the reclusive tunnel vermin are exterminated by our skill and zeal.

"This way!" Mist urges, doubling his speed. "My ponies are being charged ahead!"

"We'll save 'em!" Sturdy assures with a cocky edge that gets some amusement and worry from me. We trot to the scene, Mist falling into a firing line with his troops. I smile with joy at the sight. The guard are holding this position with the heavy gun, the gunner taking out hog gunners first and then refocusing on the front runners.

I fall on my back, my vision blurred. There must be a looted basilisk further along, because one such round just slammed into the heavy bolter and the guard using it. The weapon has been shattered into a million pieces. "WAAAAAGH!" There is only one answer to this.

"Fall before us, xenos filth!" Sunbeam and I both draw our chainswords, Lens's combat knife extending. Sturdy Branch snatches a dog's ax off the ground, abandoning his second mangled lasgun in as many hours to join our charge. The hogz are dangerous, especially when charging, but careful sidesteps and downward sweeps sever their heads nicely. We give the remaining guards and Mist time to regroup behind us and fire furiously with their lasguns, their attacks focused on lightly armoured ambushers as they guard our flanks. Sturdy steals new weapons as he goes along, surprisingly versatile with the foe's own improvised blades, throwing what he's done with and crippling far-off gunners. Soon there are hardly any enemies left, and they run for their lives as we chase them to an unwelcome sight. "Get back!" We beat a hasty retreat as a looted Lemon Russel tank opens fire with its main cannon, kicking up dirt and creating a small crater where we just were.

"Lemon Russel!" Sunbeam screams out for the guards' benefit, but none move to retreat. Mist grabs a string of frag grenades and runs past us, his remaining guards joining him as I too twist about to join the charge. "The armour is too thick for frags," Sunbeam warns.

"Only on the outside," Lens reminds as we meet the tank just as it is turning the corner. A dog leaps at Mist, but is sent flying backward by a single headshot from Lens's scoped bolter. The cannon fires again and everyone but Mist is thrown from their feet, the lieutenant already over the front of the tank to the top. A gunner I can't see fires at him, but he rolls to the other side of the cannon to protect himself. The side-guns on the tank sweep for infantry targets, but we've all bunched together under the cannon. The treads roar to life again, crushing one of the guard and forcing us to outrun it just barely, our heads lowered as we avoid its fields of fire. A hog opens the top hatch, leering at Mist.

The lieutenant cuts the xeno's neck with his bayonet and shoots out both eyes for good measure, dropping the grenades in after the corpse. "Thanks," he mutters, kicking off the armour and rolling to his hooves. "Run!" A side gun locks on him, but Lens stands in the way, her armour taking a pounding as the cannon throws Sturdy into some sandbags and sends Sunbeam into a ferrocrete wall. Then the grenades explode, killing everything inside the tank. "Keep running!" We barely manage to escape as the fuel tanks that likely caught fire finally erupt, knocking us to our bellies as flaming armour pieces are scattered everywhere. Another basilisk shell lands nearby, causing a ferrocrete pillar to collapse to the dirt inches from Mist's face.

"On the move!" I command, moving to the front. "We need to take out that basilisk."

"Right behind you!" Every triumph makes Sturdy more eager, and he barrels ahead of me. The gunner I couldn't see is standing at the top of a short set of stairs leading to a building filled with pillars that has completely lost its walls, and the hog fires on Sturdy. My guard is a bit too fast for the xeno, and as Sturdy reaches the stairs he throws one of the xeno blades, piercing the hog's neck. It falls with a gurgle, Sturdy climbing up to nick its gun. "We have them on the run! I can see the basilisk from here."

We all regroup behind the pillars, Lens studying Sturdy's weapon of choice with a disgusted expression for a few seconds before scanning the area with her optics. "There are five gunners on what remains of the next building's highest floor. If I'm careful, my remaining rounds should be enough for all of them. One or two shots for each of them. Six dogz work the basilisk, which is a problem."

"I'll get them with one of their own guns," Sturdy adds gleefully.

"Yes, well, be that as it may there is another nob in the way. Its armor is too thick for our remaining ammo to be sufficient, save perhaps for our plasma cells."

"No." I want to kill them closer. "We should save the plasma for vehicles. Sunbeam and I will distract and then destroy the nob in close combat. Sturdy, don't break cover until Lens has engaged the gunners. As soon as she does, kill the dogz on the basilisk. Mist, watch our backs for surprises, then return to your ponies. We can take it from here."

"They have no reinforcements nearby that I can detect." Lens smirks wickedly, pleased with our successes thus far. "I believe our plans will be sufficient to clear this area completely for now."

"On my signal." I watch this new nob from the edge of the pillar, and am surprised by his size. He's a bit below average for a nob, and his fur has grown white with age to some extent. I was counting on typical hog anger for this plan, and I hope my intuition about how mellow this one may be is wrong. I send vox pings to my sisters' visors, which is sufficient since we act first, our movements serving as the signal for Sturdy and Mist.

Lens lands two headshots before the other three take cover, cowering as the nob moves toward Lens, intercepted by Sunbeam and I. The dog crew start to lower the basilisk cannon, but they are interrupted when Sturdy makes his move, killing all six with astounding efficiency for somepony with such bloodlust in his eyes. He takes a place beside Lens, scanning for the gunners. "I knowz when I been beat," the hog says calmly, walking backwards with cautious steps. "Good job, little ponies. Come back to me when you'ze ain't obviously preservin' yer ammunition." I'm unsure what to do in this situation, looking from Sunbeam to the nob and back. The sergeant looks just as confused. Even in her extensive experience, I doubt she has encountered such behaviour from a hog. This absurdity is simply unheard of, and I never would have imagined it. The nob waves at us, actually smiling as he backs away behind a corner in a rubble pile.

"Captain… the gunners have wandered off. I think they're retreating too."

"What in Tartarus just happened‽" Sunbeam seems oddly enraged for some reason. I still don't know how to feel about what happened myself.

"I… doubt it is relevant to our mission."

"Ahem." Mist clears his throat, regaining our attention. "You'll have to pass through no mare's land to reach the primary vox station. We call it that because the bunkers there have been cleared and occupied by the enemy, and they have turret placements hastily constructed with metal struts all along the path. If you survive the gauntlet then you'll have a shot at the gun battery next. The first rok came down between a stretch of superstructures and the gun, so expect heavy resistance there."

"Nothing we can't handle," I say with confidence, reassuring the Lieutenant. "Sturdy, cover our flanks. I'll take point with Lens on the left and Sunbeam at the right. Preserve the plasma for those armored turrets Mist mentioned." As I finish giving my orders I notice Sturdy attaching a hog's dual machine gun harness to the shoulders of his royal armour, his ammo pouches bulging with the large drum clips used by the xenos. "I'm sure Princess Twilight is proud of your resourcefulness, Sturdy."

"Thank you, mi'lady! I'm honored to fight alongside the Ultramares."

"I don't like this," Lens says worriedly, watching the polluted skies. "That nob should not have retreated. Hogs love fighting."

"Perhaps this one is smarter than the others," Sunbeam adds, having calmed since her initial rage.

"That's precisely what worries me." Mist is on his way back to his troops as we begin to move toward our objective, but we are interrupted by an unwelcome sound. "Damn it all! Get down!" Lens was right to be worried. The nob must have coordinated with bomber pilots to have his most recent post showered with deadly explosives. The air roars and burns with powerful explosive impacts and I cover my head as I hear ferrocrete collapsing nearby. None of it seems to fall on me and my armour protects my hide from the heat wave, so I raise my head to survey the carnage.

My keenly trained eyes scan through the mist of rubble to survey the carnage. My battle sisters were just as lucky as myself, but Sturdy's left flank is supporting a newly heated piece of ferrocrete. I rush to his side as quickly as I can, coughing as my lungs labor against the smog. "Hold still, Sturdy." My left shoulder is still aching from the powersword strike, so I wedge my right shoulder pad beneath the rubble and lift it until my hooves can take over and push it over away from the stallion. His left hindleg looks slightly smashed, his armor plate there burned into his skin and most of the fur of the leg burned away. "Can you walk?"

"Better than that," he answers between tortured breaths. "I can fight." As he stands he tries and fails to mask the pain his wound causes him, but I don't see any way to dissuade him from helping us at this point. I should never have dragged him into this.

"If I ever see that nob again," Sunbeam mutters, swaying back and forth on unsteady hooves. "I'm going to blow his smart ass right off his barrel."

"Hurry up wid dem slugs! Those royal defensive wallz won'ts topple demselfz!" My auto-senses count seventeen gun turrets ahead of us, all aimed in the general direction of the buildings housing the remaining royal forces in this area. "Move it, gits!" These genetically enhanced ears are sometimes a curse.

I watch Sturdy standing beside me, his leg pain clear on his face to my eyes, but his expression stoic and stubborn. I wonder if it's strange that I want to be like him, to experience the world the way he does. When you haven't spent your life going from planet to planet, seeing for yourself that they are all essentially the same, awash with war and pain, can you look to the stars and feel wonder? Is Sturdy in awe of a great and looming universe, filled with endless possibilities in place of past failures? Is Chaos a distant and relentless embodiment of entropy for him, rather than an ever-present foe that seeks to destroy all he dares to love?

I turn away, because it does hurt to dream.

"Those bunkers the gunners are hiding in will help us," Sunbeam remarks. "The structures will limit their firing arcs and trap them inside when we close in. The turrets will topple if I burn away the supports with well-aimed plasma."

"I agree. Sturdy, watch for ambushers and shoot them down. Lens and I will handle the brawling while Sunbeam destroys the turrets." I charge headlong at the the nearest hog directing gretchin, slamming into him with my horn before he can react. Now that we are amongst our foes, Lens extends her knife and I bring my chainsword to bare. The gretchin have enough sense to flee, but their minds are sluggish compared to ours and we caught them down before they can move.

The gunners firing at us are distracted as the nearest turret smashes harmlessly against the roof of their bunker, a structure designed to withstand bombing runs. I take that vital moment to rush inside, swinging my chainsword around a full 360 degrees from the middle of the small structure, killing or wounding every creature inside other than myself. I don't bother finishing them, as time is of the essence now.

As we progress past the next three turrets we run into another bunker, these dog gunners using looted bolters and being much more attentive than the last bunch. "Run past now, while they reload!" We can't get at them with the bunker entrance serving as a choke point, and the explosive bolter rounds will obliterate our unprotected faces if we give them the chance to. Sturdy manages to run and fire simultaneously, killing some hog and dog brawlers charging our position from elsewhere, Sunbeam managing the same feat to remove two more turrets.

As I hunker down against a trench wall with my battle sisters I notice Sturdy's absence, looking back to note that he had run toward the offensive bunker. He is flush with its wall, just below the firing window, a hog stick grenade that I didn't notice him finding held in his hooves. As one of the dogz looks out with his bolter in paw, Sturdy shoves the primed grenade into its mouth and punts the beast back into the center of the structure, one of its fellows managing to scramble out just before the first explosion. These bunkers were designed to withstand explosions from the outside, the designers never anticipating a single grenade on the interior would set off several poorly protected bolter rounds and other grenades. The chain reaction is spectacular, Sturdy and the dog cowering during the structures dramatic collapse, Lens taking that moment to kill the dog with one bolt to the brain.

Sturdy collects the only intact bolter magazine from the dead dog at his hooves, strutting back to us in spite of his leg injury. "Now that was impressive." In response to Sunbeam's praise Sturdy takes a bow, passing the full magazine to Lens Drops.

"It is my pleasure to serve." From there we continue our trek, weaving around bends in the super wide trench to avoid enemy fire. Whenever we pass a bunker the frenzied foes rush from the protection of their choke point to follow us, making them much easier targets.

Within minutes every turret is felled, and we now watch the sliding door leading into the communication station close behind some fleeing hogz. "They've probably reworked the locks," Lens states with an unconcerned air as she approaches the door. We follow her and are all denied entrance. "Yes, as I suspected." Her laser quickly removes the control panel so her augmetic can manipulate the wires behind it. "Just give me a few minutes to separate the mechanism from the control hub."

"WAAAAAAAAUGH! GET 'EM, BOYZ!"

"You only have a few minutes." Apparently, the toppling of the turret line attracted the attention of several large and fight-starved hordes of xenos. We are now surrounded by what can only be called rabble. The bulk of any hog Waaagh is a critical mass of simple-minded beasts with no real skills and only the desire to kill and die on a battlefield to prove that they are worth something and secure the privilege of sexual release afterwards. These hogz are muscular, unarmoured, and carrying serrated blades and spiked clubs. Their maws froth with spittle as hundred of them swarm toward us.

Sturdy screams with fierce hatred, "DIIIIEE!" letting his machine guns roar at the foe as they begin to fall in droves, those behind jumping or trampling over the dead only to die themselves. Surrounded as we are, it's not enough to stop them reaching us.

"We can't protect you against so many." I loath admitting it, but I have to. Only if we all fight together do we have a chance, in spite of the seemingly endless numbers. Their ranks must be thinned before Lens can refocus on her task.

I don't need grace in this fight, so I wield the chainsword in one forehoof and the powersword in the other, swinging both in wide and unruly arcs, collecting skin, blood, and spit from my enemies. Sunbeam swings her own chainsword equally wide with her right hoof, using her last plasma cell to fire into dangerously close bodies and burning them into slag. Sturdy and Lens stay near the door, machine guns and laser killing scores of foes as Lens's combat knife slays the front runners. My last canister for my flamer is put to use, burning fur and flesh even as I keep striking, ignoring the flames that lick the armour on my left forelimb. I feel the sting of a shallow cut on my right cheek, unsure of which sharp edge caused the slight damage.

We continue like this until Sturdy throws his empty machine guns into the fray, Lens's laser overheating for a third time, Sunbeam and I fighting back to back at the top of a hill of bodies. Finally Lens has her opportunity, the newest hog arrivals not able to see her past the wall of corpses surrounding the door. My legs are sore from all the fighting, and even though the hogz are coming in smaller clusters they are still coming. Lens can't use visor pips to inform me of how long she will take with our helmets ruined, so all I can do is trust in her skills and mine, slaying hogz left and right. My flamer is empty, and Sunbeam lowered her plasma gun long ago.

I see a shape in my periphery, but I can't lose my focus, waiting until whatever it is gets closer so I can identify it swiftly. I don't like what I see. This machine is very familiar, and its energy shields have recharged. "The gunship… Roll to the door!" The gunship opens fire as Sunbeam follows my lead, both of us protected from the hail of bullets by the pile of bodies. We collapse on the ground, corpses falling after us as our weapons bounce off the dirt below.

The door is still closed. "Lens…"

"Almost there, captain."

I hear Sunbeam's chainsword trying to rev through all the meat coating it to no effect, sputtering with an insufficient supply of fuel. My chainsword is fully depleted, and won't rev at all. I put it and the stressed powersword back in their places and instead brandish my combat knives just in time to fight off the next cluster of hogz, Sunbeam swinging her lifeless chainsword like a big stick and Sturdy fighting with one of the hog clubs.

I feel the ground shaking, foreshadowing more dog digging machines arriving at the surface. "Lens!"

"Got it!" The door begins to slide open at a painfully slow pace, and it promptly jams with barely enough space for a space marine to squeeze through. "Damn it!"

"Can we close it on the other side?"

"Only with more tinkering, captain."

"Then you go first, then Sturdy and Sunbeam. Kill the dogs inside. I'll hold off the hogs out here." Lens doesn't hesitate, but Sunbeam and Sturdy both risk a worried glance in my direction. I won't give them time to argue, screaming a battle-cry and galloping up through the sea of bodies. I cut and hack and trample while moving too quickly for the gunship to get a bead on me, its fire carelessly cutting through quite a few hogz as I redirect the horde away from the door. This close to the vox array being used as a jamming center there's no way for Sunbeam to contact me. I'm not sure that I have any way to survive this encounter, and the discouraging thought wreaks havoc on my adrenaline rush. Two diggers emerge, disgorging dogs with magically shielded armor and fierce blades.

I'm so tired.

"Hey assholes!" I look up, Sturdy standing at the pinnacle of the corpse pile, all of the dogz and several hogz turning to face him. "Get away from my friend!" Wait… the corpse pile, of course!

"Sturdy, get through the door!"

"I'm not--"

"WAAAAAUGH!"

"I'll be right behind you, just trust me." He snarls in frustration, but does as I say, a leaping dog missing him by inches and tumbling down the pile. I rush around the corpses, bullets and snarls at my heels. Sturdy just fits through the door as I pass it by, making my way to the opposite side of the pile and climbing back up, baiting my foes to follow me up. Before the gunship lands a hit where it counts I leap back down, managing to fit through the door before the enemy can turn around.

As they start to horde together just outside, a massive exertion of my magical energies topples the pile of hundreds of bodies on top of them, access to the door from the exterior barred by the organic mass. After a couple of minutes spent catching my breath, Lens finally manages to fully re-close the door. "Wh… where is Sunbeam?"

Lens looks at me with such a bland expression that I wonder if she feels emotion at all. "She is clearing the building, as you ordered, captain."

Sunbeam

I can't stop to think, because I can't reach a conclusion about what's happening to Tied Flanks right now. Too many of my sisters have--

No, stop. Can't think. Only kill. Kill them all.

My chainsword isn't working and I'm completely out of ammunition, but that won't stop me: I still have fury. My armoured hooves are lethal while coupled with my anger, and a trail of dog corpses are behind me in this hall. There is the bend to the vox system's primary control module.

The two hogz guarding the entrance are dead before they know what hit them, a dog near the control station shivering with fear. He is alone. "Pony… marine… here." His voice is new. Not the foe I want to find. I break his face and move on. Lens can fix the vox array when she gets here.

I've reached a secondary partition of space in the station, containing mechanical control panels for moving cranes. Every station on a forge world, despite its main function, must be able to move heavy cargo to the next station for assembly purposes, and this vox station is no different.

Here is a gathering of substantial numbers. There are perhaps a dozen dogz at this control panel, including a monstrously muscular alpha and a twitching runt. The runt is at the control panel and oddly seems in charge of the others. I can see beyond him a titan class arm cannon. Apparently he has plans to retrofit this formidable plasma laser to a dog war-machine or else construct one around it.

Such a thing could obliterate the remaining royal forces in one or two shots. "They won't be our slaves, so we kill them all. Hehe…"

"The insolent mutt." This is who I want to find. The alpha turns around and yelps at his packmates to alert them to my presence, brandishing his huge club and charging at me headfirst. I use the punching rockets on my rear hooves to propel my skull into his. Mine is reinforced by dozens of reconstruction surgeries and metal rivets, while his is not. The gems adorning his armour do not have the energy to overcome my momentum, and he stumbles to the ground, disoriented.

"Die, pony!" With the alpha out of the way, the runt fires a recently retrieved rocket launcher in my direction.

Oh shit.

I roll out of the way just in time, but the rocket explodes against the wall behind me, throwing me into the railing at the edge of this walkway. My vision in my only remaining eye returns in time to see the alpha's giant club slamming into my side. I gasp in pain from the impact, but my master-crafted armour withstands the hit. He pulls back for another swing, which I duck under, snatching his wrist in my hooves and pulling him down until his face hits the floor. He groans painfully, staying down as I step over him.

I position myself perfectly, grinning wickedly at the other dogz and gunning my punching rockets, simultaneously burning away the alpha's brain and propelling me to the runt. My hooves slam against the runt's shoulders, impaling him on the controls he was operating a moment ago. I yank him down, his bones lowering the release lever and causing the cannon to fall on top of the dog and hog strong-point it was being brought to. A split second later it explodes gloriously.

The ten other dogz all run from me back through the halls I came from, so I chase them down until they suddenly stop, finding themselves surrounded by Lens Drops, Sturdy Branch, the sister I thought dead, and myself. They don't last long.

"Do you want me to lead you to the armoury, sergeant," Lens asks with a smirk, "or would you rather just keep using your hooves?"

"Ha ha, very funny." There's plenty to be done. Our next target will be that orbital defense gun.

Sturdy Branch

I've hit the jackpot this time. On our way to the secondary armory I found a dog's rocket launcher. From the looks of his broken body I assume he won't need it anymore. The ammo belt for it holds a full ten rockets. Very promising piece of wargear.

"Lens," the captain passes her weapons to the adept as she speaks. "I need you to handle the rites of repair while I contact our other forces."

"Of course, captain."

"And Lens…" The super soldier's tone of voice draws my attention, and I look up from my new rocket launcher to see the captain giving her adept a compassionate, almost motherly look. After a moment of silent hesitation, the adept meets the captain's gaze, a hint of fear in her eyes, though I know the captain is not from whence her fear comes. I'm trying to think of them as space marines rather than ponies so I don't do something stupid, but this little drama is making that pledge difficult to keep. "Do not distance your emotions from this fight. Caring, though painful in war, is what separates us from the beasts we face." I can't decipher the complex emotions that pass between them in this moment, but I know they are communicating without words. The bonds of friendship between space marines are legendary.

The moment passes and the captain leaves, the adept plugging the powersword into a charge slot. As she begins to unclog the two chainswords I load a rocket onto the front of this crude dog weapon in my lap, the sergeant taking a seat beside me. "The laser weapons won't do you much good against our thick-skinned foes, but there are plenty of more personal weapons that would fit your build." I know what she means. There are several swords and other royal blades segregated into their own section here.

"I'll certainly be taking one out of necessity, but I'd much prefer to kill our enemies from a distance. It's much cleaner for me that way. The only reason I ever made that crazy jump…" I trail off because I can't finish that thought; at least, not out loud. This mission will become even more awkward if I reveal my real reason for tagging along this far.

"Well, might I suggest that you give one of those field sniper rifles a closer look? They're not Vindicator Deed rifles, but they should do their job just fine." I look where she points and sure enough there are five sniper rifles and plenty of bullets. I've built enough of them as part of the assembly lines to know how they work. They have a limited range, but are loaded with five-shot cartridges and the bullets can pierce conventional armor.

"This is too good to be true!" I dispose of caution and hug the sergeant's neck, moving on to collect my weapons before she can react. My leg still hurts whenever I walk, but the pain has been dulled by time. I'll be fine. I can still fight, and I can definitely shoot.

"Excitable little fellow, isn't he?" I hear the sergeant whisper in good humor. It's hard to be cross with her now that I have both a sniper rifle and a rocket launcher strapped to my back and saddlebags filled with cartridges. I eagerly proceed to selecting a saber, choosing to take two and securing them to each hip.

"His enthusiasm for wargear is endearing," the adept responds to the sergeant. "I'm glad Tied Flanks asked him to join us. Come, Sturdy." Being addressed catches me off guard, but I comply regardless. The adept has arranged all of the weapons on a large worktable, each of them properly tended to, and ammunition cartridges with corresponding weapons. I recognize the purpose of the arrangement immediately, but there are a few open spaces. "If you are to use that launcher it must be cleansed of the filth of its origins and blessed with the rest of our weapons. Please, place your wargear on the table."

"Yes, mi'lady."

"Lens." I am caught off guard by her yet again. "That is my name. You can use it if you like."

"Alright," I mutter nervously, arranging my weapons and munitions with the others for the coming ritual. "Lens… nice name for a mechanicus pony."

"Thank you, Sturdy." I'm not sure if I detect or if I'm imagining sarcasm. She places her forehooves on the table, since her combat knife and scoped bolter are welded to her armour, but must be with the other weapons regardless. The sergeant… well, Sunbeam and I put our hooves in our laps and we all bow our heads. We've all prayed to the Machine God before. It is a therapeutic experience.

Tied Flanks

As I enter the vox control room I mentally set up a wireless link between my neckline vox caster and the signal core, using the sector-wide broadcast towers to make contact with my other two squads. "Swift Victory, this is captain Tied Flanks, do you copy?"

"We sure do, captain! No space marine casualties, and we have our manufactorum." She is aptly named. "The horde must have swept through this sector already. There are dead guard everywhere; civilian bodies too."

"The rok they came from is near my own position. They must have doubled back here in mass when the guard of this sector rallied behind lieutenant Mist."

"Captain," the other squad leader, Hammer Blow interjects. "There is heavy guard resistance in my sector. They say they've been taking direction from Mist via manually ferried messages to bypass the jamming effect that was felt in your sector. Now that the vox casters are working again the guards' strategies are more focused and cohesive than ever. We should have our manufactorum soon."

"Mist plans to call reinforcements from your sector, Hammer Blows, but I must remove the threat of the orbital defense system first. It is my next target and I am not far from it. Swift Victory, I need you to guard your manufactorum until the guns are down so we can get a suitably large crew into the Reaver Titan there. I'll also call down Wire Web to get those experimental tanks in Hammer's sector working."

"Thank you, captain."

"May the Princesses guide you to a swift victory, captain!"

"May the magic of Friendship protect you, my sisters."

Grimskull

Immediately after flagship crash…

I iz got better shit tah do than lay 'ere in this trash all day. I 'ave a planet to conquer! I spring on up like a loud daisy, lookin' around tah see whatz I can see. Hah! Everyhog else iz dead. I'z survived 'cause I'm da biggest and da strongest! "Hahaha!"

WARHOGZ 40000

WARBOSS

I set da frequency of me talkin' at a distance thingy and try to contact one of me dog boyz. "Grimy! You hearin' me out dere?"

"Yes," he answers right away. "Dog hears hog." Grimy iz one of dem deep diggin' dogz whose always gots a bunch of gems in 'is armour and stuff. He's me second in command in dis WAAAAUGH!

"Send me a digger transport. My ship iz down, so I'z takin' the dirty route to dem titans. they'z all gonna be mine!"

"Yes boss, it's on its way."

"Keep you'z eyez peeled fer space marines! Done ran into one of dem earlier, and where there's one there's more."

Grimy

Sometime after the flagship crash…

Hog nob called me on radio, needs me to bomb his post. There are space marines there. The ponies must die.

WARDOGZ 40000

GEM HOARDER

I call the bombers over radio. "Grimy here. Must bomb Striker's post. Striker left. Says pony marines are there."

"We aren't far! We kill the ponies good, Grimy! WOOOOO!"

Tied Flanks

Back in the present…

"…And stay alert. The leaders of this horde know what they're doing."