Liberty Unto Death; Warhammer 40k My Little Pony crossover short

by Fulgrim

Rating: teen
Tags: Crossover, Alternate Universe, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 4994

On the war torn surface of Hall's Redemption with only hours to live, bitterness and hate are the only reasons for fighting.

A single Guardspony has twelve hours to live on the battle-scarred surface of Hall's Redemption. With no escape and no redemption, the remaining ponies of Imperial Guard fight a last ditch battle against the hated servants of Chaos. Until the world dies, the true nature of war and hate is reviled.

Published 2015-06-22 00:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-06-25 03:44:23 UTC

1st Hour

A huge explosion woke Golden Valor up with a start for the twentieth time in the night. It was another artillery shell, and judging by the crater to the right of the building that they were sheltered in and the debris flying through the air, that the hab-block that the 427th had taken shelter in had been obliterated. The rest of his near-destroyed brigade was also awoken, the gas masks on their muzzles giving their faces a ghostly look. The powdered debris from the weeks of bombardment of the hive had powdered the ferrocrete of the destroyed buildings and many fighting men had bloody throats from breathing the near invisible poison.

"We need to move," said Sargent Fire as he trotted through the half asleep soldiers. "I have two bits of news, not that it matters anymore."

"W-what it it sarge?" asked a drowsy soldier.

"First, the orbital fleet has been destroyed." stunned silence met this grim news. Without the fleet, the supply lines were cut and there was no evacuation.

"Second," answered the grim sergeant " The warp rift is acting up again, if the sensors can be believed, the planet will be... Consumed."
This was impossible. With what little he knew about the warp, he could only assume it would be destroyed. The warp is described as a nightmare dimension, filled with daemons and other, more sinister things. The Imperium only used the warp for space travel, but that didn't make it any less of a hazard. Their enemy, the one they were dying fighting, and soon, all dying fighting, worshiped these evils. They say that they were once Guardsponies like them, but the daemons whispered in their ears and made them forget their loyalty to Celestia. Now the server their new masters, taking the Imperium to unimportant worlds like this one and killing off the ponies they once fought beside.

Golden Valor was neither golden or valorous, but he assumed being in Celestia's Hammer was worth some measure of glory. He was a grey Earth Pony with a dark grey coat and brown tail and mane.

Valor and his comrades hailed from the martial planet of Krieg. He and all who were born on Krieg are at that moment, sentenced to death. Krieg was a miserable planet, with much of the planet's atmosphere being toxic. The pony inhabitants were forced to do everything to survive, which ensured only the strongest survived to serve in the Imperial Guard. Almost 1,000 years ago, Krieg's rulers declared independence, and the war to subjugate Krieg was a horrible, and when it ended the Imperium ordered that Krieg tithe more ponies for the Imperial Guard, and assigned them to the most horrible war zones. Such as quarantine zones and radiation-ridden and toxic planets.

Hall's Redemption was one of those radiation-ridden worlds covered in continent-spanning cities, which made Valor feel like he was fighting on Krieg itself.

"Now, we still have work to do," shouted the sergeant, regaining the discipline in his troops. "Commissar Dark has ordered a last ditch attack on the enemy positions. We are to move out in 45 minuets." The troops protested.

"We are being hammered by artillery! How does the commissar expect us to move out under the barrage?" Shouted a more inquisitive soldier through his re-breather.

"Idiot! We are already dead! Would you rather die on your knees while the world gets devoured? Or on your hooves punishing the heretics for their betrayal of our God-Empress?" At this the soldiers looked at him, a grim determination filling their eyepieces. They all knew that they were destined to die for Celestia, but they never thought they would have to come to terms with that horrid fact. As for Valor, he swore to serve until his planet's betrayal had been payed for in his blood, and he would have no fear for that day.

Right now, he wasn't making good on those promises. He wanted to go out and fight, but he just couldn't move. His emotions were mixed, and he just sat there-his gas mask hiding the battle being fought in his heart.

"Ready to move out. Gather your squads, prep your vehicles, we leave soon. Liberty Unto Death!" shouted the sergeant and the company echoed the phrase. The ponies got up and rustled around as sergeants called their squads to them. Valor got up to join his own squad, as he passed tank crews lined up before their vehicles, he saw Sargent Fire with his squad. Colonel Star Striker had been slain earlier in the fighting, and with all other seconds being killed off, Fire took the mantle as the leader of the 97th Siege Army. As he reached his own squad he surveyed his own ponies. Starting with ten, the squad has been chipped away at, and gratefully, received reserves from the backup force. Now all reserves were being committed by Sergeant Fire, and their battle-scared squad only fielded seven. Valor was the acting leader, with their own sergeant dying in combat.
Valor was still grateful to have as many as he did. Some squads didn't receive reserves, and he passed squads of three men and even squads of one.

Departmento Munitorum officials distributed lasguns, ammo and harnesses to the squads with looks as blank as the masked men they supplied before grabbing one themselves and joining the most depleted squads.

Chimera transport tanks fired up their engines and the titanic compound was filled with rumbles as tanks backed up near squads to offer them transports. Valor marched his squad into the nearest Chimera and sat down as the back door of the Chimera closed and the tank lurched as it drove them towards certain death. The tiny caged light illuminated their helmets, casting a hellish look on their masks.

"Message from Sargent Fire," grumbled his vox-tech from under his mask as he motioned Valor to lean and listen to the speakers.

"Alright sergeants," growled Fire's voice from the vox, the rumble of his own transport audible through the speakers. "The commissar ordered fast deployment, we are being dropped at the beta sector so you shouldn't have any lack of cover." Valor knew, the beta sector was the site of a collapsed hive, and was littered with rubble, ruins, and burning wreaks.

"The heretics have seized the barrage, as you may have noticed. Scout reports have noted that the enemy has mobilized infantry to the beta sector, and armored regiments to the gamma sector, we are going to meet them. You should be reinforced by our own armor if the enemy switches forces to the beta sector, but until then, your only objective is to eliminate enemy infantry, and move to better positions to gain on the artillery devices."
"There will be no retreat, kill anyone who stands before you. and remember, Liberty Unto Death!" Valor sat back on his seat, the fire of cannons and small arms fire. The time was near.

Author's Note

Actual WH40K quote
Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.[i/] - Imperial Guard Tactical Manual

2nd Hour

"Now! Move MOVE!" Yelled Valor as the back hatch of the Chimera dropped open. He and his squad ran out into the dust choked ruins as artillery boomed in the background, and buildings behind and around them were leveled by the mammoth shells dropped on them. They ran forward under the barrage, the squad next to them disembarked only for a shell to fall on their transport. Valor and his squad were knocked from their hooves as the impressive explosion sprayed them with shrapnel, dust, and wet body parts.

They took shelter behind a ruined manufactiorum and the squad collectively cringed at every nearby artillery. Valor trotted to look out at the battlefield facing them. He could see some recently destroyed transports, as well as some blood-stained craters where squads took a more brutal look on the assault and subsequently died. Through the thick dust and debris, he could see flashed of las-fire coming from in the distance, and shadowed shapes could be seen behind these flashes.

Valor and his squad stat behind the bunker for a bit of time while waiting for new orders from Sargent Fire, peeking around cover at points to see if the enemy were advancing.

"Alright, Squads 104, 34, 97, 308, I need you to advance up the center, and pressure the traitors." growled the voice of Fire through his squad's vox-tech. Valor felt his heart turn to iron as he heard his squad's number called. The enemy's bombardment had ceased, and the fire of tank weapons and small arms had increased.

"Alright," Valor yelled to his squad. " You heard him, advance until I order you to stop. Do not fire at anypony until I order!" Valor's squad began their advance through the ash-choked ruins, crouching and scanning for any signs of the enemy. Valor signaled his squad to stop at the crest of a leveled building. His squad moved up to the edge and looked over, and saw the enemy, trying to spot anypony marching through the dusty air.
Valor had seen the enemy many times throughout the campaign, but their appearance never ceased to unnerve him. Most of them were bare headed, with a few, sack-like masks in their midst. They were disheveled and dirty, wearing the remnants of guard flak armor along with patches to cover damage and sigils in the form of a chaos star. Some had the star of chaos inscribed on their bare flesh in tattoos, or simply cut into their body with knives.

Valor signaled to his squad get lower to avoid detection. The enemy did not have the benefit of Kreig re-breathers, so their vision was harried by the intense dust that had not settled from the artillery barrage. Valor glanced around to see the squads near him taking up similar positions. When the other squads signaled that they were ready, Valor hunkered down and aimed his lasgun at the foe.

"Alright! Light them up! Light them up! The Empress protects!" Yelled Valor, and he bit down on the piece in his mouth that allowed him to fire the lasgun. Beams of crimson light lit up towards the chaos battle line, as warriors were cut down by the scything fire that they didn't see coming.

Valor and his own squad did well. He shot at a bulky pony that was acting as a sargent for the traitors, liquidating his face and leaving him to choke on his own liquid flesh for his last agonizing moments as he searched for another target. His squad had mixed shooting, some hitting the foe, and other shots hitting the steel tank traps and rubble the traitors were using for cover. The enemy wilted under the barrage, a few frantic shots were fired, but the enemy made a quick retreat down a cracked street. Valor's squad shouted with defiance as the last of the traitors disappeared through the dust.

Valor himself smiled through his mask. He and his squad stood up and slowly made their way to the entrenchments where the traitors had been a moment before. Then a sound riveted through the silence, an unearthly cry that pierced Valor's heart and brought him to think of terrible things. His squad was also unnerved, some now shuddering as the cry left it's silent echo. A flash of light appeared in the dust some meters away from him and his squad. With a boom like thunder, the flash then lit up into reddish glows, which quickly faded. Before Valor could fathom what this was, the air was again pierced by the same howls, this time, many in number.

Valor felt his heart stop and his blood go cold. He had not seen anything capable of making such a noise, but the noise itself bore a resemblance of a bloodthirsty beast and a maniacal killer combined. Something that served only to kill for the sake of killing. Out of the dust, like a demented jack-in-the-box, sprung about a dozen monstrosities. Equine in shape, the beasts had a scaly red skin without any fur. Their faces had beady yellow eyes and fanged mouths opened in vicious leers. Their heads pulled back at the end in a cone shape. Two antler-like horns mirrored this addition. Fiery swords were held aloft in blood-red magical auras near each of the creatures, albeit a lack of any horn.

The daemons gave the guardsponies no time to recover from their shock, spotting the squad next to Valor's, who had been overbold with their advance. They ran at them with horrifying speed, and began to massacre the ponies. Valor stared in horror, watching the daemons as they swipes their swords at the ponies, cutting some in half like organ-filled pinatas. Those who had the timidity to fight back were hopelessly outmatched. The daemons exposed their fangs in jeers as they cut down the last survivors and instantly began decapitating the corpses and flaying the skin off of the head, leaving wet skulls with blood veins still clinging to them.

Valor recovered from the precious seconds that he wasted watching the abominations glut themselves on flesh by evaluating the situation. With bloodthirsty daemons to their flank and traitors to their front, the only hope was to fall back to friendly lines, lest they join the pile of skulls being amassed mere feet away from them. Valor needed to give any orders to have his squad begin their silent retreat. The only thing keeping the daemons from searching for more targets was their grisly task, and Valor hoped it would be long enough for them to get to relative safety.

Already, they could hear voices punctuate the dust over the crunching and snapping of the daemon's work. They didn't want to get too close to their 'allies', but they did want to press the advantage. Valor knew what he needed to do. He had to close the distance with friendly lines to avoid death, and get their quick enough before the traitors realize they have been granted a reprieve.

It seemed like an impossible task, but the lives of him and his squad-mates depended upon it. After they had gotten safely away from the daemons and the traitors, Valor had his vox-tech relay his position to Sargent Fire.

"I copy Squad 98," replied a voice that didn't sound like Fire's.

"We need more orders from Sargent Fire, can you put him on the line?" imperatively asked Valor, hoping for the best.

"Negative, Sargent Fire is leading his squad against the heretics, and put me in position to relay orders. He says that all squads are to hold their positions, no matter the cost for the time being."

"It is has I have told you," inquired Valor. "Our positions are compromised, Squad 104 has been eliminated by... foes, proficient in close combat. Our guardsponies cannot match their skill. And getting far enough away will leave our position indefinitely in the hands of the traitors."

"Well, coordinate with the nearby squads, find a way to regain your position, no matter the cost. Orders will be incoming by Sargent Fire when he returns. And please don't contact this vox unless it's important, I have a battle to prosecute, and their are more pressing matters than some hive-worlders armed with shock batons menacing squads." replied the voice with a viper's bite of annoyance at the end of his statement.

Hive-worlders armed with shock batons? Valor felt like trotting over to the command hub and throwing that insufferable lieutenant in-front of the daemons and see what he would have to do. Commanding the guard was a grisly job. Their primary weapon was the amount of soldiers they could throw into the meat-grinder of battle for the smallest gains in return. No matter how horrible the foe was, all would be crushed under the iron boot-heel of Celestia's Hammer.

Now, they we're trying to preform that same aspect of warfare with woefully limited troops and supplies. Valor felt sick to his stomach, doing all he could to save his squad from a gruesome death at the hands of monsters just to trot back there and risk it again, this time the odds stacked even more against them.

Valor had his squad connect to the frequency that 308 was operating on to conduct a plan of action. As the vox-tech used his magic to fiddle with the knobs on his strange apparatus, the amount of small-arms fire increased to their west, with more flashes resembling lightning strikes hitting down in the center of the battle as more daemons were summoned into the fray. Valor allowed his eyes to follow the strikes upwards into the sky until he was staring directly at it.
The sky-wound.

The sky on this planet had no atmospheric sheen to hide the planet from the gaze of the stars. Letting anyone on it's surface to stare up into a night-like sky, even in daylight. But amid the constellations, an ugly thing was held in the sky. Like a gash in space itself, the sky wound was a knife-wound in the cosmos, bleeding out hues of purple and fiery orange, as it sought to devour the space around it.
It was strange to think that something so strange was the very reason that otherworldly things not even of the galaxy itself manifested themselves right before their eyes. It was also strange to think that something that appeared so far away was the very reason the planet itself was dying, right under their hooves.

"Squad 308, do you copy?" asked Valor when his vox-tech adjusted his device.

"We hear you loud and clear," replied a gruff voice.

"You saw those...things, right?" asked Valor.

"Aye, we need to end those abominations. And the only way we can do that is if we work together."

"Do you even think those things can be hurt by lasguns, or even be killed?" asked the voice.

"I-I don't know. Its best to hope so." stammered Valor, as he tried to push thoughts of the daemons pushing through a barrage of gunfire to massacre his squad.

"What's your current position?" asked Valor. A small clicking voice could be heard over a vox as they correlated the positions of the squads.

"Twenty meters west from your current position. Behind a broken wall. If you want, there's a shattered section of another wall nearby, If we can lure them towards us, we can hope to eliminate them." Valor moved away and moved his squad through the rubble until they found a large section of wall. Other ponies garbed in the same attire of the 97th Siege Army leaned up against a wall that was separated from theirs by a very large blast.

Growls and gunfire was audible in the near distance. As Valor's squad took shelter behind the wall, the other sergeant spoke to then through his vox to maintain silence.

"We heard them, in a small barricade about ten meters straight ahead. They're busy...decapitating, Squad 34." The other pony shuddered when he described the monster's gross actions. The loss of another squad was another loss that they had to cope with. That means that only his squad and the one next to him were the only ones maintaining the offensive into enemy lines. Fire in the distance spoke of a dreadful push on the enemy's part.

"Alright, we need noise to draw them out, ponies, prepare for the storm," spoke Valor to the other squad and his own. He hoped the monsters would take the bait. If not, this plot that hung on a needle-thin thread would snap. One of the unicorns in Valor's squad used his magic to pluck a large rock of ferrocrete, and chuck it out of the opening.
The squads were dead silent. The squads pressed their guns through the cracks and waited with wide eyes. Bestial growls of curiosity sprung out from the dust, and shuffling hooves could be heard. Valor began to sweat. The sounds of the daemons trotting around where in no definite place, making it difficult to gauge their position. What if they didn't take the bait? What if they went around the wall to attack them from the rear?

His questions were soon answered as the daemons themselves came out of the dust in front of the squads. Like stalking serial killers, they shambled forward with their nostrils flaring, searching for the guardsponies. The order to fire didn't need to come, as all the ponies opened fire on the daemons powered by soul-staining horror and righteous vengeance. The daemons were caught in a deadly crossfire, their faces not pulled back in fear or shock, but fury as the puny creatures thought to immolate them.

The squads shots struck true, and to the squad's delight, the daemons struck with fatal shots started to web with cracks, light spewing forth as they imploded, leaving nothing behind. The daemons tried to clear the distance, but the closest ones drew fire, and their numbers dwindled.

As the last of the daemons were destroyed, the squads shouted out in victory. Cheering that their horrible adversary had been defeated. As the cried out, they were deaf to the gurgles and growls coming from behind them. It seems the first daemons the guardsponies killed would be their last.

3rd Hour

Valor had enough hearing to look to his back and what he saw horrified him. Unlike the daemons they immolated, the ones that came at them now were very much different. Still equine in shape, these daemons were predominately green, with broken bones and bulging sacs of fat and who knows what else visible under their slimy skin. Their faces were drooping, ugly masks, with rotted eyes and yellow and broken teeth sprouting out of their maws as they screeched at the guardsponies. Their shapes were unique, with no two being the same, as many looked like corpses left out to the maggots, with deep cuts in their midsection spilling out a plethora of rotting guts that had no place in a regular pony.

large, bloated flies exited their many wounds, and flew with the daemons, spreading their foulness in the air as well as the ground the daemons walked on. Only the sluggish advance of the daemons allowed the guardsponies time to react. The daemons magicked rusted and broken blades, seeping with a layer of putrescence and muck that Valor knew would kill a pony on contact. The guardsponies shot at the charging daemons, enough to bring down a few of the abominations, but soon after, they were among them.

Unlike the other daemons, their slow movements allowed the guardsponies to engage them without being slaughtered outright. Earth ponies and pegasi used bayonets affixed to the ends of their lasguns, while unicorns magicked their bayonets and swords to swing at the foe. Valor was beset by a gibbering horror whose brains were displayed for all to see, dodging the clumsy swipes of the creature's club to deliver it a bayonet straight in the chest, a killing blow. The daemon didn't even flinch, swinging its sword at Valor who just barely ducked under it.

Valor pulled his bayonet out of the abomination's chest and stabbed it again in the neck. Instead of blood, putrid muck, urine, and other substances better not spoken of flooded out of the would, bathing Valor's lasgun and head with its foulness. The daemon laughed at this wound, as it swung its sword in an upward strike that cut Valor's bayonet out of its flesh and almost cut both of Valor's hooves off.

"Laugh this off, obscenity!" Yelled Valor as he was able to stab his bayonet into the creature's brains, ending its horrid life. The daemon collapsed, wracked with spine-snapping spasams, as its body slowly broke down to a puddle of muck, then reformed as a group of putrid plagueflies, which buzzed away. Valor asked himself in his mind, what are these things? Where did they come from? As he looked around at the swirling melee, his mind conjured up answers.

The daemons that they killed earlier were called Bloodletters, and the served Khorne, the master of slaugher and the Lord of Skulls. The daemons they were fighting now were called Plaguebearers, and they served Nurgle, the god of plagues and foulness. Valor was aghast. Where did these names come from? He had never heard them anywhere. He crashed down on these blasphemous thoughts with The Emperess Protects, chanting it in his mind like a mantra.

As the battle began to turn in the guard's favor, valor was on his knees in the mud. The voices spoke in his head, pushing him to the edge of sanity. Serve us, the said. What did the Guard ever do for you? Send you to die? We can give you more, anything you want. Visions of Valor sitting in a golden throne, atop a pile of riches flashed in his mind. He saw himself on a blood-soaked hill, his body drenched in the blood of a thousand enemies, their bodies torn and mangled under his hooves. The bodies of those who sought to hinder him from his destiny. My destiny is to die! Valor screamed at the voices in his head, trying to pull his thoughts back to the battle being fought all around him.

You don't have to die, think of it. Serve us, and we will deliver you from this planet. You can have endless riches, strength, beauty, knowledge, immortality. You don't have to die here. Immortality thought Valor, an escape from the death he was meant to die. Meant to die. To die...

Valor snapped back to reality, the smell of filtered air filling his nostrils, the feel of rubble under his hooves, and the feel of his gas mask on his mussel. No, I serve the Empress. Her gaze is upon me, and I shall not fail! Valor yelled at the voices as he scythed down a nearby Plaguebearer who was about to stab a guardspony from behind. Then have your petty death, snarled the voices, now beast-like. We will show you what happens to those who fail the Gods! they shouted, and a moment later, Valor felt their presence recede.

Their attach on Valor's psyche left him cold. He could still see the images they promised, but he had no time to waste on such things. Howling like a prehistoric leviathan, Valor charged into the last remaining group of daemons. As a red haze descended on his vision, Valor saw not the foe, but felt their body-fluids spray his chest, and the snap of their bones on his bayonet. as his rage left, Valor found himself surrounded by a circle of daemon corpses.

Many guardsponies stared at him in amazement. Many were still alive after the charge, with the lucky ones with cuts, bruises, and a few broken bones. Things representing bodies covered in an overgrowth of moss was all that was left of the unlucky ones.

Valor and the other squad's sergeant did a status check. Valor's squad had only lost three, a good showing considering the amount of enemies. Valor trotted over to the other squad's sergeant. After a brief show of thanks, Valor's squad was off, cantering back to their previously overrun position.

As they hunkered down, an incoming transmission came from the vox.

"Squads on center front," began the voice of Sergeant Fire. Valor was glad to know he was alive, and had survived his assault. "Resupply chimeras are en-route to your position to dispatch reserves and issue ammunition." This was good. His squad was running low, and after the broadcast had ended, Valor ordered a supply check to know what they needed when the re-suppliers came.

As the rumble of the tanks came closer, a chimera stopped right behind them. The back hatch opened, a munitiorium official stood in front of ammunition crates and seats full of guardsponies.

"Lets see... Squad 98, yes. What supplies do you require?" asked the official as he stared at his data-slate that was magicked in front of him. Valor trotted in front of the door.

"Yeah, we need, 3 squad members, a crate of ammunition, and standard rations for...ten." The official motioned to helpers who unloaded supplies, and three guardsponies got out of the transport and joined Valor's squad. The official tapped furiously on his data-slate as this happened.

"Also, a squad was completely wiped out, if you noticed. You're gonna need to replace them."

"Yes, I noticed," replied the official in a snotty voice. "Now if you excuse me, I have distribution to do, as you have dying to do." Valor chuckled stiffly at this remark as the door hatched closed and the tank rumbled off. Valor and a few other ponies lugged the crates over to the rest of the squad.

"Lunch boys," announced Valor as one of the crates was hungrily ripped open by ponies and its stacks of protein-paste and water-tubes seized. A few squabbles happened, but all the ponies tore off their masks and ate and drank the food in the spare time allowed before they had to be on watch again. Valor sucked down the moist paste of a protein tube and thought about his troops. Who would last? Would this be the last meal they will ever get to eat? Valor wasn't trained to be a leader, but he accepted the position with determination, he would not shirk in his duty.

Still, as the squad finished and the other crate was ripped open and its ammunition taken, Valor was uneasy. As the squad hunkered down, prepared to wait out the long slog that holding a designated area came with, Valor prepared for the storm. Not just the metaphorical storm, a storm of blood red clouds formed in the sky and slowly advanced toward them. It would be a fight worth remembering, if they got the chance.