ENTRY BEGINS. 31ST MILLENNIUM. DAWN OF THE AGE OF THE IMPERIUM
The stars. Once they were beacons of hope for Mankind to look upon and dream of new worlds, new ideals and maybe even peace. A mere fraction of these stars had planets orbiting them and a further fraction of that had naturally inhabitable worlds.
This is what had made the Calipsian System special. Four worlds each with a naturally inhabitable climate for humans to live in, abundant in resources and the close proximity of all the planets to each other, made defending the system's core relatively easy. Each world was protected by a vast array of orbital, atmospherical and surface weaponry that decimated any foe who had come to try and take the strategic strong-point in the stars.
All of this was backed up by the massive fleets of the Eleventh Legiones Astartes force-The Apocalyptians, clad in glazed, void-black armour constructed of Adamantite and Plasteel plates encased in Ceremite. Every member of the Legion had their gauntlets coloured in a royal purple, representing their closeness to the Emperor's Children. Their Legion symbol was a claw of the same colour, with the sharp points dipped in blood red, trailing lines of viscera across a green-skin's ugly maw. They were a well known legion in the northern sectors of Mankind's territories, famous for their impossible combination of Space Wolf savagery and the decorum of the Emperor's Children. Together with the system's Imperial Navy and Guard garrisons, they had successfully defended the small sector of space for a millennia, without a single Xenos laying foot, claw or tentacle upon one of its worlds.
That was until the Scarred Swords came. Calipsian IV had fallen under a tide of matt-green and bolter shells as the Second Leigones Astartes came to the system with only one goal:
To eradicate their brothers and cleanse the galaxy of the Chaos they'd fallen to.
They'd assembled one of the largest star fleets ever seen, for this was not a mission to restore compliance on a renegade world, it was one to destroy a powerful and fully armed fellow Astartes force and the star that they recruited from. A total of six thousand, five hundred and twenty eight war-ships had exited the Warp over Calipsian IV, not including the armada of Imperial Army landing vessels and smaller support ships that had accompanied the mass of ships between the lighter frigate classes and the mighty Battle-Barges. At the forefront of this fleet was the Scarred Swords' Flagship and mobile star fortress-The Excalibur. Thirty-six miles long from dagger-shaped prow to stern and twelve miles across at its widest point, between the massive stabilizer panels that jutted out from the ship's aft section while also being eighteen miles tall - from it's highest spires to its lowest antennae. It was bristling with weapons of all types, from simple macro cannons to powerful lancers and even a number of experimental Volcano Cannons. With a total of three bridges: one in the typical location of the forward aft section, one on the prow atop the bladed front and the third located at the base of the ship's rear section - The Excalibur would never be without a commander.
The Purging Fleet had taken only three months to take and destroy three of the four worlds in the system and was on its way to the core world of the Apocalyptian's home.
"Raigon" a low voice growled, to no one in particular. The voice belonged to the Primarch of the second legion-Furious Storm-Qrow, the Storm Blade. He was speaking not only of the large, blue orb dotted with flat, green continents before him-but also of his traitorous brother.
The planet Calipsian I had been renamed many years before, by The Emperor of Mankind himself, after the Primarch of the eleventh legion of astartes-Malar Raigon, who'd saved the world more times than could be counted from all kinds of threats. The savage Green-Skins, the self-righteous Eldar and even some rebellious colonists, if it could be named Raigon had fought it off the Calipsian system. It was the memories of these great honours to his name that made Raigon's betrayal all the more painful for the Primarch of the second.
Qrow stood upon the main bridge of the Excalibur, in front of his golden command throne, clad a scaled up version of the matt-emerald green power armour that was the Scarred Swords' primary colour. Every astartes in the legion wore this colour proudly, alongside a secondary colour exclusive to their company within the legion. The first company had shining gold adorning their left greaves, the sixth had shining, blood-red right arms and the tenth all had snow-white helms. It was this individuality within the legion that made them stand out against the more dull legions like the Death Guard and the Imperial fists, to whom the Swords had always been close.
The Purge fleet had now come into visual range of the last Apocalyptian fleet, at the forefront of which was the Hell Hound-Raigon's flagship. Despite being a Battle Barge, this fortress sized capital ship was minuscule in comparison to the Excalibur, it wasn't even as long as the Scarred Swords' flagship's prow was tall.
"Dragoon" Qrow looked to the sixth company captain who stood next to the 'Master's-Table' holo-display in the centre of the ship's grand bridge. Ozonus Prowl, aka 'Dragoon', was one of the four company captains who acted as their Primarch's closest advisers and were some of the most recognised men in the Scarred Swords legion. Qrow had liked Horus' idea - of The Mournival - so he'd adopted it himself, and created The Beasts of the Storm. Four astartes named after legendary creatures, in service to him The Storm Blade.
Ozonus, the level-headed captain of the sixth company, was one. The furious monster lizard, the wielder of the tornadoes and gales, Dragoon.
The next was the First company captain-Alatreon Zerith, aka Dranzer the burning phoenix with wings so sharp they could slice steel clean in two. The aggressive, Terminator Armour favouring, astartes' foul temper was matched by only one other in the whole galaxy, Ezekiel Abaddon. However, unlike the leader of the Lunar Wolves' first company, Dranzer's anger was not out of a simple aggressive nature, but out of a fierce need to protect those who he considered important, which led to a tendency to jump straight to attacking an unknown force to avoid possible betrayal.
The first captain's quick temper was excellently countered by the third member of the Beasts - Dragoon's twin brother Stratos Prowl's witty and light-hearted nature. Within the Legiones Astartes it was almost unheard of for both members of a set of biological twins to be chosen to become Space Marines, let alone have both of them survive the harsh training that all initiates must pass to become full astartes. This had solidified the blood brothers' relationship, bringing them incredibly close and if one were to fall or be injured, the other would be saddened to the state of uselessness. The light-hearted and joking captain of the tenth company was the wall that stood between Qrow and Dranzer when their aggressive natures came at odds. He represented the fast and savage white tiger of the land, known as Driger. The title suited him, as when he stepped onto the battlefield he became consumed in a maddened bloodlust that proved dangerous for any moving object, alive or not, within his field of vision.
The final beast was the youngest of them, with only about a century of full astartes-hood under his belt, Teostrum Yaol was considered a real prodigy within the legion. He captained the eighth company of the Scarred Swords, wearing the company's black left gauntlet with pride. He'd earned the name Draciel, the guardian turtle of the oceans, after defending an orbital station for five days with only a small garrison of Space Marines, against an almost infinite number of Orks. He lost many men and the platform had to be destroyed in the end, but he'd made sure the Green-skins had not obtained any of its precious technology or system data. For this he'd been awarded with the rank of company captain and a place on Furious' personal council.
All three of these captains were currently elsewhere on the ship. Draciel was on the secondary bridge on the prow of the Excalibur, overseeing the crew there. Dranzer was in the warp core chambers with a detachment of troops from his legion, ever since they'd been told the truth of what lurked in the warp the Scarred Swords had been particularly weary of the device, despite the Mechanicum's assurances of the machine's saftey. Driger was located in the Excalibur's main launch bay-a massive area on the underside of the ship's midsection - it was from here that most of the Scarred Swords legion's military forces were launched from as the entire legion (bar from a select few companies) were located and bred here.
"Are we ready to assault Raigon?" Qrow asked, his normally controlled collar was beginning to rise as spending so much time on this starship was driving him stir-crazy. But even though he could control his temper, that didn't mean his wrath was nothing to fear. He was highly skilled with almost all forms of weapon and not even Horus nor the Emperor himself could match his skill with a sword. He snarled beneath his helm at the thought that he would have to turn these skills upon one of his own brothers, with the intent to kill.
Dragoon approached his lord with a data slate clasped in his augmetic right hand. Qrow could never shake the sense of guilt he got whenever he looked at the bionic limb, knowing he'd sent Dragoon to that conflict so recklessly and had caused Driger so much emotional pain.
"All ships in the fleet's forward strike formation are in range and ready to attack on your orders lord" the captain said without any emotion at all, a tone he'd mastered over the centuries of combat he'd survived. "Or should we wait for the artillery craft and missile destroyers in the rear to be able to fire?"
Qrow looked the man right in the dark red optical lenses of his helm and he could swear he could see the concern in the warrior's sharp eyes. When he'd taken control of the second legion, he'd introduced a rule that only in situations of complete peace or when acting as diplomats for the Imperium, could his troops remove their helms. It was really just to insure the safety of his men, but he'd also been glad as in his early days as Primarch they had hidden the condescending looks of the veteran troops who believed him to be inadequate. Now, it would seem that even the thick plasteel helms could not hide the expressions of his astartes.
"The ships that are in range, when I give the order to fire are to do so, but first." He wandered over to the guard rail that separated the platform which his throne sat upon from the rest of the bridge and called. "Tell vox control to hail the Hell Hound! I would have a word with my brother before we end this."
The communications crew set about sending a message to the enemy's flagship before lone a servitor had approached the Primarch with a golden box, resting upon a plinth in the husk's mechanical grip. He grabbed the little microphone connected to the box and held it to his helmet's speaker.
"Hear me Raigon!" Qrow roared into the device, almost crushing it in his grasp.
"The Lord of the End is not here at this moment to be spoken to." A weedy, conniving little voice was what the Storm Blade received in response to his demand. "I am the Lord's Equerry-Herlias Craul. May I be of some assistance to you Lord Qrow?"
"I know who you are weasel!" The Primarch snarled, Raigon had the gall to not face him directly in this, the final battle. "WHERE IS HE, WORM?!"
"Now, now Lord, one such as yourself sho-" he didn't get to finish his sentence.
With a roar of outrage, Qrow crushed the microphone in his grasp, threw the remains across the bridge and slammed his fists down upon the steel railing.
"Admiral!"
Lord Admiral Achilles Fyndral was the highest ranking naval officer in the Purge Fleet and one of the most decorated men in the entire imperial navy, so it took a lot to surprise him or make him fearful. The Primarch's beastial wrath was one of these things.
"Y-yes lord?" he stuttered.
"All ahead full, target the ships of that fleet and set course for the Hell Hound, WE ARE RAMMING THAT SHIP!" After screaming at the naval officer, Qrow turned his attention to Dragoon. "Contact Driger and tell him to make the final launch procedures. Also prep' me a craft!" With that he began to storm from the bridge, towards the elevator that connected directly to the ship's internal tram system. But before he could get there a cacophony of sirens and alarms blared throughout the ship. This spiked concern in the Primarch, but not enough to quell his rage.
"What now?!" He yelled turning back to face the bridge.
"Lord!" Admiral Fyndral called from his position behind another deck officer, who was sat at a command console. "We have picked up a massive spike in warp activity!"
"From where?" Dragoon called from behind a vox panel on the starboard wall of the bridge.
"Are those cowards trying to jump away? Or have enemy reinforcements arrived?" Qrow asked, now back at the railing
"No lord, the readings aren't coming from the void..." he began, before his eyes widened in shock. "They're coming from within the planet."
Before anyone could react, a bright purple flash lit up the dark bridge. Everyone looked in the direction that it had come from and some of the human crew gasped, as the planet cracked in two along its equatorial line. In the centre, where the planet's burning core had once been, a warp rift sat. It pulsed and warped, growing larger as it launched bolts of purple warp lightning at the traitor ships closest to it, dragging them into it with unrelenting force. Before Qrow could give the order for a high-energy turn away from Raigon, the Excalibur was caught by one of these graviton bolts and swiftly pulled towards the rift.
The pull jarred the ship and most of the humans and all of the servitors on the ship's main bridge were tossed through the air like a rich child's playthings. The Astartes of Dragoon's command crew staggered and lurched as the spacecraft moved beneath them (sometimes, artificial gravity was more of a hindrance than an advantage) and Dragoon himself had to cling onto the Master's Table to prevent himself from joining his men on the floor. Qrow was unaffected, he was one of the strongest Primarchs in a physical sense so he was able to brace himself against then ship's movements, he was looking for something. His highly enhanced eyes scanned every inch of space outside the ship, searching for his target, seeking his prey. Then he found it, just off the Excalibur's port side:
"There!" he called to the crew as they recovered and pointing. "Target and open fire upon the Hell Hound!" Within a second or two of this order being given, the Excalibur's port side was lit up as its entire broadside opened up and decimated the battle barge with an ocean of macro shells, plasma blasts and lascannon streaks. In seconds the entire starboard side of the Hell Hound had been ripped open, the dagger shaped prow had been blown off and its bridge was gone. The Hell Hound was dead and was left to drift into the rift in ruins. But the fight was not over.
"Enemy ships opening fire upon us!" an officer called.
"Void Shields are down! Warp interference preventing us from activating them!" another shouted
"RETURN FIRE!!" Dragoon roared, his leadership instinct kicking in.
"We're approaching the rift!" Admiral Fyndral yelled, taking a firm hold of the Master's Table. "Five Seconds, all hands brace for impact!" he ordered over the ship's internal vox.
"Close blast shields!" Qrow gave the final order, as the Excalibur hit the warp rift, slowly sinking into it and creating a temporal ripple so large it destroyed several of the smaller ships around it.
Meanwhile, it was another peaceful night in Equestria, with most ponies either asleep or in nightclubs, so there were very few watching the skies that night. There was one however, a deep blue alicorn mare with a mane the same navy blue as the night sky with little white dots in it representing stars. She had a patch of black on each of her flanks and a crescent moon within each. Even without her royal crest and horse shoes, Princess Luna was the peak of beauty and royalty.
She'd taken the night off from wandering the dream-scape to simply admire her art - the stars. She recognized every little ball of light up there, well almost all.
"Hmm?" the Princess of the Night hummed to herself, as she saw one particular light that was far larger than the others and, apparently, moving towards the ground. It was too large to be a shooting star and it was clearly not a pegasus or thestral guard with a lantern.
Curious, Luna trotted over to the telescope that stood, dutifully, on her balcony and looked though it, directing it towards the light. What she saw made her gasp and knock the looking device over.
"SISTER!" she screamed, sprinting full-tilt into the castle.
ENTRY ENDS
ENTRY BEGINS. 2nd YEAR OF THE GRAND AGE OF EQUESTRIA
Furious Storm-Qrow awoke to the sound of blaring sirens and rumbling. He could feel the floor beneath him shaking, as he tried to push himself off it, groaning as he slowly rose.
"Admiral Fyndral report." he ordered, trying to shake the blurriness from his vision. He received no response from the naval officer and this concerned him, the man was normally permanently aware of everything that went on around him and an order from his Primarch was something only a fool would ignore. Rising to his full height, he looked around the bridge and saw:
Equines. Some in officer's uniforms, some clad in ceremite plate and some melded into robotic frames. Qrow could only blink. He'd seen many strange things in his life: an Ork wielding a gretchen with a spike through its face as a weapon, an Ork Deff Dread bouncing around on a giant spring, an Ork tankbusta' using a gun that fired rocket-propelled bomb squigs. Come to think of it, most of the wierd things he'd ever seen had been 'invented' by the Green-Skins. But this was on a new level, multi-coloured Equines in Imperial uniforms lying-unconscious-on the tiered floors of the Excalibur's bridge. He went to give himself a thorough look-over, but only got to seeing that he had hooves, a pair of feathered wings and a horn, before his attention was drawn back to the crisis at hand - er hoof.
He moved to one of the command consoles, moving the knocked out officer from his seat, and sitting down there. His hearts dropped into his stomach when he read off the holo-screen that the Excalibur was caught in a planet's gravity well and was being pulled in fast. Qrow began desperately applying commands to the ship through the console he was sat at, but was distracted from this when he heard a pair of groans, one from near the Master's Table and the other from behind a row of consoles on the opposite side of the bridge from Qrow. He recognised the two rising men by their attire - Captain Dragoon and Admiral Fyndral.
The latter had a beige coat and a greying black mane & tail, that were both short and spikey. His eyes hadn't really changed, a stark white with small pupils, that always had a look that pierced into one's very soul. A short horn was protruding from his head, conical and spiralling out from his mane.
It would have been hard to tell Dragoon's mane and coat colours, since he was almost completely covered in armour, however it was this 'almost' that revealed the truth. A pair of silver-grey wings emerged from his sides, just beneath his backpack and a blood-red, short, scruffy tail was attached to his rear.
"Dragoon! Fyndral!" Qrow exclaimed, relieved to see that they didn't appear to be injured in any way. "Move with haste, I need your aid!"
"Lord?" the Admiral asked in a daze. "What happened to the ship?!" he shouted, seeming to get his priorities mixed up a bit.
"We're entering atmospheric conditions." Dragoon stated bluntly, manoeuvring himself behind another console and began checking the state the ship was in, seemingly ignoring his new form and putting protocol first. "We'll need to engage impact and void shields if we're going to survive re-entry."
"Fyndral re-route all directional controls to this console and all propulsion to Dragoon's. Captain you'll be commanding our thrust on the way in." the Primarch ordered his subordinates. "I'll also need you to active void and impact shielding, Fyndral."
"All ready done lord."
"Good, now open the bridge blast-shields. And keep me informed of any situation that arises." With that Qrow took a firm hold on a control column, that was normally used for manual docking, but had been reconfigured for these circumstances. "Full thrust Dragoon, let's get free of this dive."
The Excalibur rocketed forwards and began to angle its prow up, in relation to the planet below. The ship began to judder and rock even more as it entered the atmosphere, its hull glowing bright orange as it met air resistance. A few seconds of intense shaking later and the star ship had successfully entered the planet's atmosphere, an action that was quickly followed by an earth-shaking sonic boom. The thirty-six mile long ship was now being acted upon by the planet's ten g's of gravity and it was easy to see as structural stress caused the entire ship to groan and moan as forces it was never meant to experience pushed upon it from all directions. But the Excalibur was strong and held together despite never being designed for sub-void conditions, but now it was moving stupidly fast and the ground was approaching quickly.
"Drop thrust to twenty percent!" Dragoon complied, pulling the thrust lever back to almost idle. "Find me somewhere to land, Fyndral."
"We're currently above an expanse of ocean lord, but we're hastily approaching land. I'd advise touching down before then." the fleet admiral called back to the Primarch. Nodding his acknowledgement, Qrow turned to Dragoon.
"Activate all retro-boosters along the top of the ship, push us down lower."
"Aye lord." the small, blue retros that lined the ships spine burst into life and began to force the vessel down through the air. Breaking through the clouds, the ocean that Fyndral had spoken of came into view, a vast expanse of black under the night sky, like those which had once covered Terra. But Qrow knew better than to think they'd be safe just because he couldn't see the land from where he was.
"Give me a view from the prow of the ship!" he yelled, this ship was thirty-six miles long after all. Before long one of the window panels of the bridge's main view port became a holo-display and revealing that from the front of the ship, the shore was a very short distance away.
"Divert all impact shielding to the bottom of the hull and prow!" Qrow yelled upon seeing what the display had to show. He pulled back on the control column, raising the ship's nose even further, but it was too late. The Excalibur's prow slammed into a headland, the shields preventing the ship's prow from being damaged, however they didn't stop the massive jolt from shaking the entire ship. Throughout the craft ammunition, weaponry, supplies and ponies were sent flying into walls and doors or simply tossed out of breaches in the ship's gunmetal-grey hull.
The Excalibur was now digging a trench through the land, its impact shields working so hard they were burning, white hot. Now there was nothing any of the three stallions on the bridge could do. The ship was digging so deep into the earth it was impossible to pull it free again and while Qrow wanted to stop the ship as soon as possible, he knew he had to get the entirety of the ship on land, or risk any of the breaches in the hull letting in sea water. So he did all he could do, hold on and let things play out as they willed.
It took about three minutes for the ship's mighty engines to begin passing over land and by this point the prow had begun to veer off to the right. The Excalibur was now swerving across the land, digging an even wider trench through the ground.
"Lord!" Fyndral called from the other side of the bridge, clinging onto his chair and console for dear life. "We're approaching a pair of mountains, the gap between them is just shorter than the length of this vessel!"
"Perfect." Qrow said to himself, before yelling: "Dragoon, kill the engines!" the astartes complied, bringing the thrust lever back to idle. The Primarch then turned the wheel on the column about ten degrees clockwise, the directional boosters on the upper half of the ship's port-side ignited and tilted the vessel in the same way as the steering device in its bridge. This increased the forces working to stop the ship, slowing her quicker. Upon reaching the inclined areas at the base of the mountains on either side, was where the Excalibur lost most of her momentum, finally skidding to a stop in between the two mountains.
Fyndral let out a relieved sigh, finally relaxing as the forces being exerted on his body subsided. Qrow didn't hesitate from doing his duty - standing up and beginning to bark orders at the bridge crew as they slowly came to. He turned to Dragoon as the captain slowly approached him on all fours.
"Contact all of our leading officers and tell them to meet in the main strategium. We need to discuss this predicament in detail." Dragoon nodded his confirmation, turning to leave the bridge, before the Primarch stopped him. " And tell Kyron to start investigating the issue of our transformation into equines."
"I'm sure, if he's awake, that our chief apothecary is already on it." even though he couldn't see it, but Qrow could feel his friend's smile from beneath his helm. With that Dragoon turned, once again, and made his leave. Once the captain had left the bridge, Qrow trotted, heavily, towards the left side of the bridge's main view port, over looking a massive expanse of grassy plains with a few mountains in the far distance.
For a second he felt a bit uneasy, as if someone - or - something was watching him from those distant peaks. He removed his matt-green helm, it was decorated with a golden pair of eagles wings forming the mouth plate and had a golden crest of an ornate broad-sword protruding from the forehead. Qrow stared into the shadowy-red eye lenses of his new helm, it had changed with him when they'd entered this realm and now looked distinctly equine, but he still recognised it as his helmet, crafted for him by his brother - Ferrus Manus - almost a century before.
"Father, were you aware this would transpire? Was that why you sent so many colony ships with our fleet? Or is this just as far beyond you as it is me?" all questions he knew he would, probably, never hear answered.
(3 Ship-Board Hours Later)
The group of leading officers had assembled in the Excalibur's main strategium, just as Qrow had ordered, and were all standing around the large, round hololithic-display table that was located in the centre of the massive, mostly windowed chamber.
The Strategium of the Excalibur was located in the vessel's sleeker middle section, along its central spine. It protruded as a large, rectangular tower, from the mass of spires and cannons that was the ship's back. On either side of it were a pair of twin-linked volcano lance cannons, aiming dutifully forward - towards the enemies of the Imperium. One of these cannons was currently being removed and replaced, as it had bypassed the maximum number of times it could be fired, 1,500 shots. Qrow stood watching the process of the fusion core being removed from the armoured rear of the cannon. The sound of metallic hoof-steps distracted him from his observation and he turned to look upon the approacher.
"All leading officers aboard the Excalibur have arrived lord Qrow." Dranzer's mechanical voice rasped, from the mouth plate that was permanently grafted to his face. "All are accounted for." he always gave the impression that he was talking into a vox transmitter. He had shadowy-grey fur and a thin layer of golden-yellow mane atop his head. An incredibly short tuft of tail protruding from the backside of his green, Cataphractii Pattern Tactical Dreadnought Armour, his golden left greave shined in the light of the room.
"Thank you Dranzer." Qrow nodded in thanks to the first captain, and began to make his way towards the table. Gathered there were: all four of The Beasts Of The Strom, Fleet Admiral Fyndral, Commissioner General Arcstos Node - leader of the Imperial Army Forces, Fabricator General of the Scarred Swords Xaylicth Talboran, Weapons Master of the Excalibur Rogmorun Bask and the Excalibur's chief Navigator Null. Qrow looked to all of their faces, from the identical colour schemed heads of the twin beasts, to the hooded mesh of metal plates and pipes that was the face of Talboran, all of whom possessed large, feathered wings. The royal purple coat and black mane of Draciel to the pale turquoise fur and wire mane of Rogmorun, both of these soldiers possessed a horn atop their heads, like Fyndral
"Well." he began, "Let us have council." They spoke of everything, the condition of the ship, their galactic location, the lack of communation with the main fleet, the defences they'd set up in the land around the ship and of course the casualties suffered during the battle with the enemy. The second of these topics was completely unknown, with the planet they were on was like no other in the whole of Imperium space.
"That brings us to our next point of discussion lord!" Node shouted, in his blaring, over-zealous voice. Qrow groaned internally, the general had always possessed the extraordinary ability to annoy the Primarch, every time he opened his artificial jaw. He had a darkened-red coat and mud brown mane and tail, finely cut in the ways of the Imperial Army and like Dranzer, he had no wings or horn. In Qrow's eyes, he didn't posses many redeeming qualities: Every word he spoke was at highly increased volumes, he was incapable of keeping his opinions to himself and every opinion he gave involved throwing a battalion of soldiers and armoured support at something. Also it was rather annoying that they'd already gone over this point several times before during other topics of their discussion and it had even been discussed thoroughly, but since they lacked any definitive response when it came to handling the enemy, Node was constantly brining the topic up and it was really driving the Primarch the wrong way.
"We've already been through this Node." Qrow repeated, for the twelfth time. "We lack the Intel on the enemy to strike against them, we don't know their location, we don't know their strength, hell, we don't even know if any of their forces survived translation. So, for the last time, drop it!" he put force into his last statement, attempting to make it clear that he didn't wish to discuss it further.
"But lord if we can use the fleet's scanner's we can find them!" Everyone reacted differently to this: Draciel face-hoofed, Dragoon rubbed his temples and sighed, Dranzer growled and Driger sniggered. Qrow felt like giving up completely, like leaving the ship and walking off towards those mountains, never to return. No one could tell if Node was ignorant or just plain dense.
"Admiral, explain to the General-"
"Commissioner General, lord!" Node interrupted, apparently forgetting the existence of ranks above his own and formality. This left Qrow slightly bewildered and Dranzer's temper began to rise.
"Explain to the Commissioner General, why we cannot do as he suggested." Qrow growled impatiently, although he tried to hide it.
"The long range vox arrays are damaged. We can not contact the rest of the fleet at this time." Fyndral told the leader of the Army, doing his best not to insult the man in the process.
"Then we cou-!" Node began before Dranzer cut him off.
"OH SHUT-UP, YOU INSUFFERABLE LITTLE WORM!"
"Zerith!" Draciel started, but he too was cut off - by a knock upon the door.
"Enter" Qrow called quickly, not wanting his highest ranking officers attacking each other.
A ship serf stumbled into the room, stopping next to the Primarch of the Scarred Swords and saluting.
"Lord Qrow, an army approaches." he panted, probably having run most of the distance between the closest observation tower to the strategium, which wasn't quite long enough to allocate the use of the ship's internal transport system, but still quite a long way.
"The Apocalyptians?" Dragoon asked urgently, taking a step towards the stallion and holding out an armoured hoof for the data slate he had.
"No captain, they appear to be native." said the serf breathlessly, giving Dragoon the hoof-held device. The captain of the sixth's emerald green eyes scanned the report, seeing key terms like: Pre-industrial era, monarchy, basic weaponry and medieval. He then gave the slate to his leader, for him to read over.
"I will deploy the Imperial Army immediately lord!" Node cried, standing up.
"NO!" Qrow roared, startling all of the non-astartes in the room. "I will take Dragoon and Driger with their companies. No other military force is to do any thing, I am I understood?!" aiming a glare at Node. All the men in the room saluted his orders and Qrow, the two aforementioned captains and several of the others left the room, leaving only Draciel and Dranzer left with the serf.
Draciel requested the data slate and then dismissed the stallion, as Dranzer made his way to one side of the room and watched the same volcano cannon that Qrow had been observing a view hours before, now illuminated by the morning sun, its golden panels shimmered and glinted in the light.
"Trust our Primarch's decision brother, if he needed your aid he would have asked for it." the captian of the eighth said reassuringly, flipping through the pages of information absent-mindedly.
"I am in perfect agreement with our leader's decision, that isn't what's bothering me." Dranzer growled his response, like a caged animal, ready to strike.
"Then speak your mind brother."
"It's nothing lad, nothing at all." the first captain sighed, making to leave the chamber.
"I will be here if your opinion on the topic changes." the younger astartes replied, shrugging his shoulders.
"I hate how your more mature than me." Dranzer muttered as he left, causing Draciel to smirk as he read.
Princesses Celestia, Luna, Cadence and Twilight Sparkle stood at the forefront of an army of about six thousand ponies, most of whom were clad in gold armour plating, but there were a few who wore a dark purple and some others who seemed to be armoured in crystal. Celestia and Twilight were in the same colour as most of the force - shining gold, while Luna wore the same royal violet as her thestral warriors and Cadence shined like the small detachment of Crystal Ponies in her glimmering plate of quartz.
To say they'd been shocked to see the immense, looming hull of the Excalibur was an understatement worthy of only that mighty vessel. Everypony who saw it would instantly go pale and begin to feel weak at the knees as its shadow dwarfed them. The young, purple and green dragon known as Spike, gulped and began to shake in his armour.
"W-w-w-what is that thing? Some s-s-sorta giant flying castle?" he asked the princess who's back he was riding upon.
"We don't know Spike." Celestia answered for Twilight, when the younger Alicorn failed to find her voice. "But we WILL find out."
[ENTRY ENDS]
