Chapters The Friendship Consultants
Prologue: Correspondences
Truly interesting is the fragile line of events that history takes, and oh how easily it can be changed. Twisting a reality widdershins even a little can change the fate of empires, turn sorrow to joy, or triumph to heartbreak. Sometimes, a universe twisted in such a way may even meet another, nudged just a bit deosil. Those worlds may bump into each other, passing like ships in the night, or they may intertwine so closely that looking back, one would hardly credit them to have once been separate. I own not the worlds I have set spinning, that would be the honor of Games Workshop and Hasbro, respectively.
Our tale begins on the world of Earth, in a surprisingly spartan set of quarters in the highest tower of the largest palace ever built. A man, tall and muscular with long black hair, stern of countenance with high cheekbones and a patrician nose, and the bronze skin of one born to the desert, sits at a writing desk. Those who think they know him would be scandalized that he wears little more than a simple shirt and denim pants of an ancient yet imminently comfortable cut. He raises his hand toward one of the bookshelves in the room and with a miniscule fragment of his immense psychic might, calls a particular book to him.
The book is large, a thick hand-bound hardback whose cover is adorned only with an ancient symbol of magic, well cared for despite bearing an age far more immense than any would guess by judging its cover. As the man opens it and flips through the pages, its contents reveal themselves to be an extensive set of correspondence between two beings, one writing with a firm angular hand, the other with gentle, flowing script. The man’s notes are signed with a name, not his True Name or that which he was born to, but one of many he had borne through the long years - Merlin.
He draws and inks a quill, and on the first blank page of the book, halfway through it, he begins writing.
Dear Princess Celestia, It has been over a month since my last. My fleet is prepared and tomorrow, I begin the long hunt to find the missing Primarchs. The remembrancers are already calling this undertaking the “Great Crusade”, but I find myself focused more on worries about the well-being of… my sons. It is odd to see my own hand write those words. When I began the Primarch Project, I must confess that I viewed them merely as tools to be used in my grand plan to reunify mankind. My generals and statesmen, my greatest achievement in gene-forging, paramount among humanity, important to my plans to be certain, but until they were taken from me, I had never thought of them as my sons. I do not know if I would have done a good job raising them, and will never have that chance. I thought hard about your advice, and I am resolved that I will do all I can to genuinely be a father to each of them when I reclaim them. They *are* more than just weapons.
Merlin
Within an hour, a new passage appears in the book.
Dear Merlin, I wish you the best of luck, old friend, and it gladdens my heart to see you write the words that seem so odd to you. I know your universe is far less forgiving than Equestria, or any of the mirror-worlds linked to it, but friendship and family still have great power, even there. Your sons may be vastly different from what you would originally have wanted them to be, but they will still be worthy of a father’s love. Let them be brothers, and encourage them to be friends, and they may yet forge bonds strong enough to stand against the darkness we both fear is coming. ~ Celestia
As the man who was once known as Merlin, now known only as Emperor, waged war across the galaxy to reunite humanity and find his sons, he kept up his correspondence with the confidant known only to a few among his inner circle. Malcador the Sigilite, the Emperor’s seneschal, spymaster, and best friend for millennia, had met her, and greatly approved of her moderating influence on his friend’s at times terrifyingly cold nature. Without Celestia of Equestria’s advice, things may have gone much differently, from the order of the acquisition of his sons to the way in which he handled some important issues. Some key missives hold clues to what was and what could have been.
Dear Princess Celestia, This week I found another of my sons. He was named Angron and used as a gladiator by the people of a planet called Nuceria. To say that life was unkind to him where he emerged from the Warp would be an understatement of the gravest kind. His brain had been implanted with foul augmetics that greatly increase his aggression and prevent him from knowing a moment’s peace. I found him the night before the slave revolt he lead would have made its last stand. He refused to come with me. I was half-tempted to take him without his leave. I didn’t have the logistics to evacuate his people in time, and I couldn’t just obliterate the butchers he faced, for his brother Roboute had already brought them to compliance. I agonized over the decision for a few minutes until Malcador brought me to my senses and helped me realize the obvious. I must admit I felt rather stupid for feeling that much angst when you’ve probably already noticed that the solution was built into the problem. When the forces of Nuceria’s rulers massed for their final attack on Angron’s rebellion, I led my Custodes in a teleport deployment between their forces, introduced myself openly, and demanded they stand down. There was some… initial disagreement, but I made my point and they obeyed. I had my ships land and with the time restriction and enemy army no longer factors in the matter, I was able to evacuate the rebels. Angron wept, something I get the feeling he very rarely does, and thanked me for being the first authority figure in his life who actually cared. He is still damaged, but for the first time in his life, he has hope. It is an amazing feeling to have brought that to him.
Merlin
Dear Princess Celestia, I finally had a talk with Lorgar about his fanaticism. Thank you for talking me out of making some ill-advised grand example of things. I went against my instincts and decided to let him know the truth of some important things. He finally, truly understood my distrust of religion, but he argued that if the horrors in the Warp were such terrible things, then maybe all of the devotion he brought forth and directed toward me would help stand as a bulwark against the Dark Gods. It is an interesting position, and not entirely without merit. He does also at least now understand that he should focus more on actually making progress than spending inordinate amounts of time making sure every world he takes is fanatically loyal before he moves on.
Merlin
Dear Princess Celestia,
Barely two thirds of my sons have been found, and I have lost two of them to tragedy. The XI Legion is no more, and its Primarch slain at great cost. The II Legion is mostly intact, but without its Primarch, I have folded them into the Thirteenth. Out of grief and shame I have commanded that the names of the fallen be stricken from Imperial records, and I shall not name them here. The Primarch of the Eleventh was a paragon of nobility and virtue who became corrupted by an ancient xenotech device that turned him into an inhuman monster. He bound his legion to him through some horrific method granted to him by that device, and they were slain to the last. Those of my sons that I had found already fought alongside me in facing him. The Primarch of the Second was a skillful orator and negotiator who had won over many worlds with words alone, though he was willing to back up those words with force, and yet he was broken and turned by the Eleventh. There was no way to save him, and Russ ended his suffering. The Eleventh was felled by Guilliman and Horus standing together, but he rose again, and Magnus and I were forced to use our powers to obliterate him, body and soul.
Merlin
Dear Merlin, I know only a shadow of the grief that weighs on your heart now. And I can only offer you the advice that was given me almost one thousand years ago when I was forced to banish my sister. Reach out to others. Do not bear this burden alone, and remember that there are those who truly care about you for your own sake. ~Celestia
Dear Princess Celestia, Thank you. Your advice, and Malcador’s, helped a great deal. Roboute also helped. He is among the most human and empathetic of my sons in temperament and is both observant and stubborn. I also had a chance to talk with Magnus about his delvings into the Warp, and their dangers. I’m not sure he took it to heart like Lorgar did, but he has resolved to be more cautious. I must prepare for departure soon. I’ve glimpsed the thread of fate that will direct me to another of my sons.
Merlin
Dear Merlin, I have just encountered the most magically gifted unicorn I have ever met. A young filly who just earned her cutie mark, a symbol I know very well indeed. And the burst of magic that earned her the mark was triggered by something even I have only seen once before, a sonic rainboom. I felt fate itself intertwining the destinies of several ponies into that event. She, and the friends she will have in time, have a great destiny ahead of them. I have taken her under my wing, as my personal protege. All of my plans and gambits are nearing completion. Fate willing, when my sister returns, the Elements of Harmony will be taken up by ponies bound by true friendship. When I forced the Elements to my will to stop Nightmare Moon, I could only draw upon their power, and could not truly use them, for Luna was the rightful bearer of half of them. Perhaps those ponies bound to the fate of my new student, Twilight Sparkle, will be able to do what I could not. I can scarcely bring myself to hope that things will play out as I desperately wish. I am not sure my heart could take it if this last chance to free my sister fails. ~ Celestia
Dear Merlin, My faithful student just attempted to warn me about the return of Nightmare Moon. She was worked up enough that she didn’t realize just how quickly I would have had to write my reply if I hadn’t already prepared it months ago. She is en route to Ponyville, on the edge of the Everfree Forest, ostensibly to oversee the finishing touches for tomorrow’s Summer Sun Celebration. In truth, the ponies she will meet in the process are far more important than the details of the celebration. The stage is set. The curtains are rising. In the next two days, I will finally know if all this has been worth it. ~ Celestia
Dear Merlin, THEY DID IT! My sister is returned to me, free of Nightmare Moon’s influence. Oh how I have missed her. I have given Twilight Sparkle the task of learning more of friendship, and I know that she and her new friends will have the fate of Equestria in their hooves more than once in the future. Who knows? They may even be able to provide a more satisfactory solution to Discord than leaving him encased in stone for eternity. ~ Celestia
Dear Princess Celestia, I am gladdened to know that your sister is free of that foul corruption and stands at your side once more. I have to admit I rather liked her. I have found another of my sons, who has called himself Konrad Curze. He wasn’t in the best of circumstances before I found him. In point of fact, he had taken control of his crime-ridden homeworld by brutally murdering anyone who harmed another. I’m keeping a close watch on him, and have left a garrison force from the XIII Legion on his homeworld of Nostromo to ensure they do not fall back to their old ways now that they no longer have their terror of the “Night Haunter” to keep them in line. Guilliman opted for about half of that force to be remnants of the II Legion. A force of idealists might be just what the world needs to grow beyond what they were.
Merlin
The correspondence continued apace, through events great and small, Celestia having someone with whom to discuss her grand plans and the manipulations necessary for them, and Merlin having someone to help keep him grounded and in touch with the best of his nature. Due to the strange difference in the flow of time between their realities, the decades stretching into centuries of the Great Crusade passed as the weeks stretching into years of Celestia’s plan to prepare Twilight Sparkle for her ascension. The Primarchs were found and worlds brought into compliance, as Twilight became Princess of Friendship and in time took two students of her own, one with whom she communicated through a book very like the one whose extracts we have been perusing.
One day, a message came that Celestia had long been half-expecting, for she knew her human friend as well as any could claim to.
Dear Princess Celestia, I have fought alongside all of my sons, and by now, I feel that I should get started on my project to give humanity access to the Eldar Webway. We have fought a great battle on Ullanor and I am set to name Horus as my Warmaster and have him take up leadership of the Great Crusade. However, I feel that not all of my sons are ready for me to run off for what many of them would see as a glorified science project. Aside from those of my sons with problems of their own, such as Angron and Konrad, there are a number of rivalries that divide them. Russ and the Lion fight honor duels every time they meet due to a brawl they ended up in over what was known millennia ago as “kill-stealing”. Perturabo and Dorn resent each other for their matched specialties. Guilliman, for all his empathy and humanity, has a bad habit of wording important things he’s trying to tell his brothers badly enough to anger them. Mortarion despises Magnus for his psychic might and keeps trying to get me to ban all psykers from the Legions due to his own prejudice against them. I would like to ask a favor of you. Could you spare your protege and her friends as consultants to help sort this out? By my reckoning of the current time difference between our realities, a week in yours should translate to a couple of months here. I believe that trick you described Twilight using to reach the mirror-world using the link between Sunset’s book and hers would work between ours. It would take me less than an hour to rig a proper portal on my side.
Merlin
Dear Merlin, I have asked Twilight, and she is willing. I have given a rough outline of your reality and the situation, but you will have to fill her in on most of the details. And I concur regarding the transportation arrangements. It would be best if they didn’t have to deal with full armies of your Marines, so bringing together all of the remaining Primarchs in a controlled environment would probably be for the best. Have them each bring one member of their respective Legions as, I believe you’d called them, equerries? It would give the twins an excuse to both be present without spoiling their secret, at least. ~Celestia
Dear Princess Celestia, Good idea on the Equerries. I’ve gathered my sons together on a defense station above Ullanor, with a company of the Adeptus Custodes as an honor guard. I’ve finished the portal and am ready to receive those you are sending to me. Thank you, old friend.
Merlin
And so the stage is set and the players ready for our tale.
Author's Note
Here's a new story I've been working on for a while, born out of a number of odd mental images such as Konrad Curze looking uncomfortable while being enthusiastically hugged by Pinkie Pie.
'Tis largely a fix-fic intended to alter the circumstances that in canon lead to the Horus Heresy, through judicious application of ponies.
Editing this to include an omake, showing the particulars of the "initial disagreement" on Nuceria:
The copper-haired giant stands defiantly between his rebels and their oppressors, face already contorting into a rictus of pure hatred. He beats his axes together in a steadily rising rhythm, taken up by his forces, and he howls . Righteous anger, seething hatred, defiance, and pure, unreasoning rage blend into a terrifying, primal sound. To the shock of all present, just as that terrible roar reaches its crescendo, a deafening staccato of thunder and lightning tears along the ground between the two armies. Angron’s vision clears first, and he sees the man he met last night, his father, standing tall in golden powered armour that is as much an intricate work of art as it is protection, a flaming sword in one hand. Standing with him are figures almost as tall as Angron himself, clad in slightly less ornate armour. Most bear glaives with bolters built into them, while those closest to the Emperor bear broad-bladed swords, themselves grafted with bolt pistols, and large shields worked with the Emperor’s two-headed eagle crest, the aquila.
Angron watches as his father walks to the leader of all Nuceria and stands before him, disapproval radiating from him. “I am the Emperor of Mankind, to whom you have sworn allegiance. The army you seek to destroy is lead by one of my sons, whom I am here to reclaim. Commendably, he refuses to abandon his men. I am working on something of a deadline here, so I will give you one chance. Stand. Down.”
The last two words hit home with a palpable force, but the man who has hunted these “eaters of cities” for so long flushes red with rage. “This is an internal matter. They are rebels and murderers, and you have no jurisdict--” His tirade is cut short by the precise sweeping arc of the Emperor’s sword, and the flaming halves of his corpse fall to the ground.
“Wrong answer. Does anyone else seek to challenge my authority?”
The Friendship Consultants
The tale I here weave is wrought of the tapestries of two realities which I own not. Hasbro and Games Workshop, whose most excellent tales of the world of Equestria, and of the grim darkness of the far future, have provided the inspiration and the threads to be woven.
Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, stood in front of a large mirror, to which were attached a large variety of magical devices, and, bizarrely, a book with Princess Celestia’s cutie mark on it that she had emplaced as they arrived. She had already outlined the device’s basic function and had begun on the details. The other bearers of the Elements of Harmony had tuned out and gotten to work on packing their supplies, having last heard the exact same explanation when she had first constructed the apparatus to allow her to travel at will between Equestria and the parallel world in which Sunset Shimmer lived.
“Twilight, what is this big favor that Princess Celestia is asking of you? The one for which you’ve invited the rest of us?” Starlight Glimmer interrupted when Twilight paused for breath, eying the portal curiously, certain that she could identify which bits did what at about a third of the way through her mentor’s explanation.
“Oh, sorry, I guess I did get so worked up explaining the principles behind this that I forgot to let everypony know why we’re going through the portal. Princess Celestia has asked me, as the Princess of Friendship, to help with a friendship problem a friend of hers has… in a different reality,” she answered, finishing with an excited grin.
“Ah, so that would be why you didn’t use the book that links Equestria to Canterlot High, darling?” Rarity asked. She had noticed that the book that was currently connected to the portal was far older than the one through which Princess Celestia, and later Twilight, had communicated with Sunset Shimmer.
“Exactly! Princess Celestia’s friend lives in a reality separate from both Equestria and the world CHS is in. This friend is the leader of a huge empire with a lot of enemies that make angry Yaks look as noncombative as Fluttershy,” at which the pony in question uttered a soft, “oh my…”, “and is skilled with both magic and science. The details she was willing to share were kind of sparse, actually, but the friendship problem is that he has a lot of sons and they don’t get along, and he’s worried that if nothing is done about it, they could end up destroying his empire. Especially since each of them apparently leads a legion of several thousand soldiers. He’s supposed to be giving us more information when we arrive, and time to adjust… If the portal functions exactly the same as the one to Canterlot High, we should come out the other side in appropriate forms for that reality, with appropriate clothing. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it doesn’t hurt, at least.”
“Oh this is gonna be soooo fun! I get to make lots of new friends!” Pinkie Pie said as Twilight wound down her briefing, quite literally bouncing up and down in excitement.
“Ya may wanna tone it down a might, Pinkie. Some of this fella’s sons might be like Cranky,” Applejack said.
“Yeah, they’re probably some crazy-skilled warriors if they’re leading soldiers and their enemies really are as bad as what Twilight said. They might not be okay with your usual super-hyper-in-your-face-ness...stuff,” Rainbow Dash trailed off at her lack of ability to adequately describe the party pony’s usual state of being.
“I wonder if I get to be a human this time or if the portal’s going to make me a dog again…” Spike wondered aloud. Before anyone could reply, the portal flared to life, activated from the other side.
“Time to go, everypony.”
Twilight Sparkle went through first, striding confidently, Spike at her side. The now-familiar feeling of mirror-portal travel hit harder than during her trips to Canterlot High, and the transit took far longer. “This must be pretty similar to what cider feels when somepony drinks it…” she found herself thinking before a sudden flash of non-existent colours deafened her with the taste of great bell ringing and the smell of being slapped across her whole body. Shaking her head an eternal instant later, she groaned and blinked up at the great vaulted ceiling of the large room she had landed in.
“Oh, thank Celestia somepony put down mattresses…” she heard someone saying in a slurred voice, before realizing that she was the one speaking. Wincing, she unsteadily rose to her feet, to find her friends doing the same and having far less success at it.
The first thing that struck her was that unlike the world in which CHS existed, the human colour palette was apparently far more limited here. Her friends’ manes kept their vibrant natures as human hair, but their skin ranged from dark brown to a few shades lighter than peach. Spike was standing and stretching, not a dog this time, but a human shorter and younger-looking than the forms the ponies had taken, with spiky hair the same green colour as his usual form’s spines.
The second thing that struck her was the clothing the magic involved had decided was “appropriate”. Like her outfit at Canterlot High, her clothes fit perfectly and were customized to incorporate her cutie mark into their design, but everypony’s clothes were just so… severe and drab by comparison. Her own clothes mostly consisted of a simple high-necked blouse with a calf-length skirt and practical boots. Rainbow Dash was wearing a jumpsuit of drab green and a jacket identical to the one she was given on joining the Wonderbolts, and boots that Twilight could tell were built to allow speed while withstanding great amounts of punishment. Rarity was gifted with an opulent dark blue dress that managed to convey a sense of wealth and taste without being too flashy, a necklace with three diamond-cut sapphires around her neck and very fancy shoes. Applejack, seemingly immune to this odd dimension’s fashion sense, wore a plaid shirt and denim trousers, and hard-wearing boots along with her ever-present hat. Pinkie Pie was staring down at her clothes in bewilderment, her dress a muted grey except for the bright balloons embroidered into it. Fluttershy’s deep green dress was elegant enough to hint that she had once been a famous model, however little she had liked it. Starlight Glimmer wore a knee-length skirt, a blouse, and a severe jacket that matched the skirt. And Spike had a short-sleeved tunic and simple pants.
The third thing that struck her was the view from the room’s window. Her jaw dropped as she gazed down upon the planet Ullanor, and past it to the star it orbited. Starlight noticed her expression and followed her gaze. “Oh my… Twilight, does that view mean what I think it means? Are we … are we in space?”
“I...I… there are NO WORDS,” Twilight managed to say, gazing awestruck out of the window.
The door opened as the new arrivals gathered around the window to stare at the most amazing view any of them had ever seen. They turned to find two men entering. The first was pale-skinned, frail-looking man with grey hair, simple grey robes, and a staff with a flaming double-headed eagle as its headpiece. The second stood taller by nature, and taller still in the armour he wore. The golden panoply looked thick enough to stop a full-grown dragon’s flame, almost-gaudily ornate with single- and double-headed eagles worked into the breastplate, pauldron, and greaves, a human face on one knee-plate, with laurels and vines scroll-worked into the surface anywhere that didn’t already look fancy enough. The gauntlet of the left arm was oversized, the fingers worked into long cruelly-hooked talons. Sheathed at his side was a massive sword with a scabbard and hilt every bit as ornate as the armour. His bare, tanned face was framed by long, straight black hair, the high cheekbones and patrician nose giving him a naturally stern countenance, and his dark eyes smoldered with the intensity of his drive to better humanity. And yet, the faint ghost of a smile softened it.
“Greetings, children. I am the Emperor of Mankind. I currently claim no name beyond my title, though Celestia and Luna know me by a millennia-old alias I once had, Merlin. This,” he paused, knowing that Celestia’s influence on their world would cause them to place more value on the words he planned to use than any of the other man’s official titles, “is my best friend, Malcador.”
Twilight gave a formal curtsey that Canterlot High’s Rarity had taught her, “Hello, sir. I am Twilight Sparkle of Equestria, Princess of Friendship. These are my friends, Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Starlight Glimmer, and Spike.”
There was a thump from behind Twilight and she looked back. Everypony but Spike (who gave a practiced bow) had imitated her curtsey, and most of them had managed it slowly and carefully, even Rainbow Dash. Pinkie Pie hadn’t bothered with slow or careful, and had ended up on her face. Twilight barely managed to restrain herself from facehoofing...face-handing...whatever humans called that gesture, and turned to see the Emperor of Mankind genuinely smiling as he moved forward to offer his right hand to help Pinkie back up. She grinned squeakily and thanked him.
“Your new forms are going to take some time to get used to. I’ve set up this room as a place you can spend a couple of days doing so before venturing out into the rest of the station. Also, the cogitator terminals on the walls have information about my sons, and the history of our reality. I would recommend using them to learn while you get used to moving about on two legs. I believe from what Celestia has told me about her previous adventures through the mirror in Equestria that Twilight can help you with the basics of using them. If you need anything, use the comm terminal. The kitchen staff have been informed that you have problems with meat, so you should not have to worry about that, at least.”
Author's Note
A bit of an omake, taking place right before the Emperor and Malcador entered the room:
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“What might that be, old friend?”
“Making sure our guests arrive in a room with a window, giving them a chance to get acclimated, and then walking in for introductions.”
“As they would have said back when you were designing mobile telephones in the third millennium, ‘Well, duh.’ I want their first experience in our reality to be one of wonder.”
“Heh. I still can’t believe they let me get away with what was basically tax evasion. Or with wearing that bloody turtleneck sweater. And don’t you change the subject on me, old man. So, you want to have their jaws on the floor *before* you show off that armour?”
“It is a ruler’s prerogative to meet foreign dignitaries in his most impressive clothing.”
“And you’ve never gotten around to having a decent tailor make you suitable clothing out of actual cloth…”
“And who picked the design of your staff of office? The one you’re carrying right now?”
“... Dammit. You win.”
The Friendship Consultants
Chapter II: Queries and Equerries
As ever, the tale I weave here is wrought from threads spun by Hasbro and Games Workshop, and I own them not. As a matter of temporal clarification, the main body of our tale takes place between Seasons Six and Seven of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, and around the time in which the canon of Warhammer 40k would have had the great Triumph of Ullanor.
As the Emperor of Mankind left the chamber, the member of the Adeptus Custodes he had set to guard the door and assist the new arrivals spoke up. “Um, my Lord, a moment, please?”
“Very well.”
“Why, exactly, was I given this task? I understand that these ‘foreign dignitaries’ will need protection, but… why me?”
The Emperor smiled. “Because you are the perfect choice. You are proven in battle, more than competent as a bodyguard, skilled and devoted enough to stand between your charges and Angron in a bad mood, and… Well, even I can’t think of a way to phrase this politely. You are, for all your skill, still endearingly awkward. It is more important than you know that they have someone as human as you to interact with.”
“I’m… well, thank you, my Lord.”
Each of the Primarchs had been advised to choose an Equerry to accompany them. A few had been heavily advised by their father to bring a specific person with them, such as Alpharius with his twin Omegon. The Lion had been explicitly ordered to stop by Caliban to bring Luther with him. Most of them had been given relatively free rein, however. After speaking to his guests, the Emperor spoke with them to work out the reasons behind their choices.
Vulkan, Perturabo, and Ferrus Manus had all chosen their most accomplished artisans. Forgemaster T’Kell, Warsmith Barban Falk, and Iron Father Ares Voitek, respectively. “We hardly need bodyguards, so I brought someone representative of my hopes for my Legion”, Vulkan had said. The Emperor was rather amused when Manus, and even Perturabo gave almost identical answers.
Sanguinius and Corax had both brought their chief bodyguards. Sanguinius smiled and explained that Azkaellon had been with him through the worst fighting and never faltered, and as the leader of the Sanguinary Guard, he was also well suited to more diplomatic endeavours. Corax was rather more laconic, merely stating that Gherith Arendi, Captain of the Shadow Wardens, could keep up with him.
Leman Russ shrugged and told his father that Bjorn the Fell-Handed’s wyrd would lead him to greatness, and that this might give him some perspective.
Jaghatai Khan laughed. “You have to ask why I bring my most trusted advisor? Targutai Yesugei knows me better than you do, father. And I have to admit, Mortarion’s reaction was amusing.”
Mortarion, on the other hand, made a bold and somewhat bitter choice. Unable to bring his full Deathshroud bodyguard, he settled on someone he considered expendable, Vitas Phorgal, a member of the Moritat, a group of jump-pack wearing gunslingers who fought individually, with a suicidal recklessness. “This entire endeavour is useless, father,” he said, putting a considerable amount of scorn into his voice. “I brought the Moritat to make a statement. I trust you can read it.”
Mortarion didn’t entirely despise the Emperor, but his father’s intervention against the Warlord of Barbarus had rankled, even if Celestia’s advice had led him to give Mortarion the ability to kill the creature himself instead of stealing his son’s kill. The Emperor made a mental note that Mortarion was to be moved up on the list of his sons with issues that needed to be worked on.
Fulgrim had chosen Julius Kaesoron, Captain of the First Company of his Legion. “Father, Kaesoron is loyal, skilled, and both more interesting and far less annoying than Eidolon. Granted, that’s not very difficult, but he’s quite well-read and we discussed literature and poetry on the way here.”
Guilliman went into such detail about the logistics of why he had chosen Phratus Auguston that the Emperor almost tuned out, at least until he said. “And aside from that, Marius Gage is a bit too pompous for this gathering. While he’s competent, I know my brothers think me somewhat full of myself… Bringing along someone who truly is wouldn’t be helpful.”
Angron literally snarled, before forcing some composure on himself for his father’s sake. “Khârn was one of the first of my Legion to reach out to me, and he’s certainly worked the hardest at it. It would feel wrong to bring anyone else.”
Magnus told his father that out of his entire Legion, he couldn’t think of anyone better to bring than Azhek Ahriman, and that Arhiman’s recent outreach to Othere Wyrdmake of the Vlka Fenrika had shown him that the man was fairly good at interacting with those outside the Thousand Sons. And that Mortarion’s reaction had been amusing. The Emperor was equal parts amused and concerned that both the Khan and Magnus had independently decided to troll their psyker-hating brother.
Rogal Dorn had brought First Captain Sigismund, and told his father, “He is my right hand. I trust him like no other in my Legion.”
Konrad Curze had smirked when the Emperor asked him to explain his reasoning for bringing the First Captain of the Atramentar, his bodyguard. “Because I can’t see any paths before me that don’t involve fighting, and I trust Sevatar in a fight. Your insane idea to try to get us to accept each other might even work, but there will be blood along the way, father.”
The Emperor nodded in response, “I know. There are too many forces loath to the idea of my sons being a united family.”
Horus, when asked, actually laughed a deep, booming laugh. “Father, this may sound a bit odd, but I had the Mournival draw straws and Loken happened to win. Honestly, I’m somewhat glad he did. He and Torgaddon have friends in the other legions, and Aximand could adapt, but I shudder to think how Abaddon would deal with all this.”
The Emperor had gone around to Jonson and Alpharius to talk to them, to allay suspicion in his other sons as to their particular choices, but both knew full well why they brought who they did, and asking would have been rather disingenuous. Jonson still brought it up. “You think that my friendship with Luther has been damaged by sending him to defend Caliban, don’t you? Honestly, it may have, but I trust him enough to command the defences of our homeworld.”
And that left Lorgar. “Father, I know you may be wondering at my choice, and honestly, I would love to have been able to bring someone personable like Argel Tal, but after our talk at Monarchia, Erebus and Kor Phaeron reacted… oddly. It was like they were deeply disappointed, even hurt that things turned out the way they did. I looked through the old Colchisian faith and I was somewhat disturbed by the similarities between it and what you described of the Ruinous Powers. I no longer trust either of them, and leaving them both in charge of the Word Bearers would have been horrendously ill-advised. So, I brought Erebus, and gave Argel Tal and a few trusted others orders to keep an eye on my foster father. Hopefully this gathering will bring out the best in my First Chaplain.”
The chamber that Twilight and company had arrived in was surprisingly well-appointed, now that they had a chance to look over it. The cogitator terminals were in recessed alcoves along one wall, and each had a comfortable chair. There were several large couches in the center of the room, facing a large screen, each with a table in front of it. A hallway leading further into the station led to eight bedchambers, each with its own restroom.
Twilight had, of course, gotten the hang of using the cogitators first. If anything, they were simpler than computers at Canterlot High. She showed the others how to use them, and aside from information on the Primarchs, they held vast amounts of data on Terran history from archaeological speculation on events millennia before the Emperor publicly revealed himself (and unique to the database on this station, annotations by the Emperor and Malcador, mostly correcting wildly-inaccurate theories on events they’d actually been present for) to space colonization to fragmentary histories of the Dark Age of Technology and Old Night. They also included unexpected topics like cooking, art, fashion, agriculture, and popular entertainment. Being familiar with similar systems that had infested the internet of the early third millennium on Earth, Malcador had made sure the documents were interlinked and that following such links opened the relevant information in a new tab.
Twilight immersed herself in reading history and soon had dozens of tabs open on hers and Starlight was doing much the same, while the others focused on things that interested them.
“Oh, Fluttershy, darling, it looks like humans developed the same art style as those stylized graphic novels you read, the one your ‘unexpected guests’ from last Nightmare Night were drawn in. And they have comic books like yours, Spikey Wikey.” Rarity, unsurprisingly, had gravitated toward art and fashion, and had almost as many tabs open as Twilight.
“Hey, they have karate here too!” Rainbow Dash had found martial arts, and stood up to stretch and try out some moves. “Wow, this is weird. The moves are exactly the same, but they’re easier to do as a human.”
“Ew! I know Princess Celestia warned us about humans eating meat, but there are so many recipes for cooking it… EVEN IN DESSERTS!” Pinkie exclaimed, half-fascinated and half-horrified by the revelation of candied bacon. The others realized with a sense of not-quite-dread that she was going to end up in the kitchens at some point, and would probably put enough sweet stuff on the table for even the Primarchs to get a sugar high.
Fluttershy was cooing over an article on the large, ill-tempered reptilian Grox that were used on a number of Imperial worlds as food sources and beasts of burden. Oddly enough, out of all the ponies present, she had the least problem with humans eating meat. After all, she looked after carnivorous animals as well as herbivores.
Applejack had looked over agriculture techniques, made a mental note of a few that could help Sweet Apple Acres (including one vindicating Fluttershy’s acceptance of the vampire fruit bats), and had begun looking into the files on the Primarchs themselves. Apparently Leman Russ was fond of a drink that made the somewhat-terrifying Zap Apple Sheep Liniment that Granny Smith used to help her joints, and which could be safely consumed in very small doses, look like fresh apple juice.
Spike had looked over the files on the Primarchs enough to get a basic understanding, and being a bit bored, wandered just outside the room to talk with the Custodes at the door.
“Hi! I’m Spike. Sorry if I’m bothering you, but I’d kinda like to start getting to know everypo--err, everybody.”
Slightly taken aback and more than a bit amused, the very tall modified human in his very impressive armor looked down at the green-haired teenager, making note of the slip of the tongue… just who *were* these ‘foreign dignitaries’ he was guarding? “Hello. I’m Andronicus. My Lord Emperor has given me the task of guarding you and your friends while you’re here. Some of His sons can be a bit… less than personable, so I think you should stay around here until He formally introduces everyone. But, we can talk if you’d like. This is one of the more secure locations in the Imperium right now… I’d pity anything that tried picking a fight against all eighteen of the Primarchs, let alone my Lord Emperor.”
Spike smiled up at him. “Nice to meet you, Andy. We’ve got those cool cogitator-things and it looks like the Emperor and Malcador wrote the articles on the Primarchs, but… well, what are they like as people?”
Andronicus shook his head ruefully, and though Spike couldn’t tell, he was smiling under his helmet. ‘Andy’ was certainly a far better nickname than some he’d picked up from his brothers in the Custodes. “I have only interacted with a few of them before my assignment here, so I don’t know much more than what you could learn from the cogitators, but I’ll do my best.”
They chatted for almost an hour before Twilight realized that Spike was missing and ran out the door. “Oh, there you are. Is everything okay?”
“Yep, I was just chatting with Andy about the Emperor’s sons.”
“Andy?”
“My name is Andronicus, but it’s not a bad nickname… I’ve certainly been called worse, even by those I consider friends.”
They spoke for a bit longer before Twilight and Spike returned to their chambers. Unseen by all, Corvus Corax smiled. If the young one was any indication, his father’s plans to forge bonds of friendship between his brothers might just work.
Author's Note
And now, we know who was chosen, and the ostensible reasons for it. And oh, yes, Erebus is NOT happy. Instead of another omake, this time, you get the Dramatis Personae of our tale.
The Emperor of Mankind - (Mostly) Immortal ruler of Terra, father of the Primarchs, most powerful psyker in human history, huge science geek, massive badass. Has an astoundingly large collection of aliases he’s tried on over the years. Pen-pals with Princess Celestia.
Malcador - Also (Mostly) Immortal. Emperor’s best friend and confidant for millennia, Badass Bureaucrat par excellance, powerful psyker, surprisingly snarky. Has a very long, very interesting resume.
Andronicus - Adeptus Custodes. Socially-awkward badass. In another timeline turned quite hilariously widdershins from canon, he ends up the Emperor’s sole caretaker and last sane member of the Custodes, with a rather embarrassing nickname.
Lion el’Jonson - I Legion Primarch - Grew up alone in the hideously deadly forests of Caliban. Too stoic and secretive for his own good, but otherwise fairly decent.
Luther - Jonson’s recently-estranged best friend and vaguely-father-ish figure. Resents having been sent back to defend Caliban without being told why.
Fulgrim - III Legion Primarch - White-Haired Pretty Boy who in canon rivals Sephiroth for the reigning champion of the dark side of that trope. Obsessed with perfection and hates the fact that he isn’t as good at art as he wants to be. Surprisingly good blacksmith.
Julius Kaesoron - First Captain of the III Legion. Leader of the Phoenix Guard. Avid reader and definite Warrior-Poet.
Perturabo - IV Legion Primarch - Brilliant civil engineer who resents having to destroy instead of build, no matter how terrifyingly good he is at it. Not as ignored as in canon, but still not that well-regarded by his brothers.
Barban Falk - Warsmith of the IV Legion. One of Perturabo’s best smiths and siegemasters.
Jaghatai Khan - V Legion Primarch - United his homeworld Chogoris through cunning hit-and-run tactics. Feels a need, a need for speed. Basically Genghis Khan IN SPACE with a bit of Sun Tzu thrown in. Pretty reasonable guy, but his brothers tend to have a hard time reading him. Friends with Magnus, Vitriolic Best Buds with Mortarion.
Targutai Yesugei - Librarian of the V Legion. Badass psyker trained in Chogoris’s shamanic traditions. Jaghatai Khan’s friend and most trusted advisor.
Leman Russ - VI Legion Primarch - Literally raised by wolves. Challenged his dad to a drinking contest when he first met him, then an eating contest, then laughed his ass off and swore himself to the Emperor after getting bitch-slapped with a certain taloned power fist. Boisterous Bruiser who’s far smarter than he lets on.
Bjorn the Fell-Handed - Destined for greatness. Kinda surly. Shot down and then rescued a remembrancer who wanted to record the Vlka Fenryka’s achievements for posterity. REALLY hates the idea of ending up in a Dreadnought.
Rogal Dorn - VII Legion Primarch - Brutal Honesty personified, with about as much tact as a cactus. Brilliant siegemaster and engineer. Has managed to piss off Perturabo and Curze already.
Sigismund - Dorn’s Right Arm. As much of a blunt realist as his Primarch. Great swordsman. Friends with Khârn.
Konrad Curze - VIII Legion Primarch - Grew up alone on the crime-ridden world of Nostromo and taught himself right from wrong. Didn’t exactly do a great job there. A seer who tends to interpret his visions in the most cynical and pessimistic ways. Not entirely sane, and is the illogical extreme of Frank Miller’s version of Batman.
Jago “Sevatar” Sevatarion - Captain of the Atramentar, Curze’s bodyguard. Snarky, badass, terrifying… Like his Primarch, actually. In canon, the first to scream “DEATH TO THE FALSE EMPEROR”.
Sanguinius - IX Legion Primarch - Charismatic, angelic (right down to the wings), genuinely good person who cares about the people of the Imperium and is one of the most beloved of the Primarchs because of it. A seer who does a far better job of interpreting his visions than Curze does. Controls his occasionally-literal bloodlust extremely well.
Azkaellon - Captain of the Sanguinary Guard. Terrifying in combat. Rule-bound enough to make you think he was a member of the XIII Legion. Frighteningly loyal to Sanguinius. Not as diplomatic as Sanguinius told his father he was.
Ferrus Manus - X Legion Primarch - Great with technology and a blacksmith close to Vulkan’s level. Not so great with people. Best friends with Fulgrim, of all people. Has nifty living-metal hands thanks to forcibly making sure a ‘dragon’ made of the substance went the way of the T-1000.
Ares Voitek - Iron Father of the X Legion. Recruited into the Legion when Ferrus Manus decided to assimilate the techies who maintained the relics from the Dark Age of Technology on Medusa. A stern combination of preacher and technician who disdains weakness.
Angron - XII Legion Primarch - Former gladiator from Nuceria. Staggering anger management issues thanks to the archaeotech ‘nails’ that were literally hammered into his brain that so far can’t be removed. Has a softer side somewhere in there.
Khârn - Angron’s voice of reason, and the only Marine brought onboard who had actually served as an Equerry to his Primarch before the Emperor’s summons. Friends with Sigismund and Garviel Loken. All around, a great guy.
Roboute Guilliman - XIII Legion Primarch - Raised on the world of Macragge in the realm of Ultramar by a warrior-king named Konor, who actually treated him well, and Konor’s Seneschal, Tarasha Euten, who is basically Guilliman’s ridiculously badass foster mother. Between the two of them, they managed to raise him to be one of the most well-adjusted of the Primarchs. Treats those below him with great respect, and isn’t afraid to question his father, but has a bad habit of phrasing advice to the only people equal to him, his brothers, badly enough to piss them off.
Phratus Auguston - First Captain of the XIII Legion. High enough in the Legion’s hierarchy to be a good pick politically and logistically speaking, and far more personable and down to earth than his immediate superior.
Mortarion - XIV Legion Primarch - Surly asshole. Raised as a weapon by an alien warlord on the toxic hellhole of Barbarus and ended up defending the humans he was meant to conquer. Resents his father for helping him kill said warlord, though not nearly as much as his canon version hates the Emperor for kill-stealing in the same situation. Hates psykers thanks to his past experiences.
Vitas Phorgal - Moritat of the XIV Legion. Slightly-crazy gunslinger from a specialization known for fighting with suicidal recklessness. Specifically chosen as an insult. Not that bad a person overall, but knows why he was picked and resents it a bit.
Magnus the Red - XV Legion Primarch - Second most powerful psyker in human history. Complete nerd who wants to know ALL THE THINGS. Friends with Lorgar and Jaghatai Khan. Only the tallest of the Primarchs on most days, capable of punching Titans in the face when he wants to.
Ahzek Ahriman - Chief Librarian of the XV Legion. Just as big a nerd as his Primarch, but far more outgoing. Tends to make friends with people who don’t genuinely reciprocate. Like Rune Priest Othere Wyrdmake of the VI Legion and Chaplain Erebus of the XVII Legion.
Horus - XVI Legion Primarch - Not yet named Warmaster, Horus is the dutiful, favored son of the Emperor, having fought alongside him longer than any of the others. Has genuinely saved his father’s life in battle. Respected, personable, and charismatic. Worries about his father’s darker side.
Garviel Loken - Captain of the Tenth Company of the XVI Legion, member of the Mournival, Horus’s four chief advisors. Formidable and forthright warrior who views it has his duty to always speak his mind. Has impressed Rogal Dorn. Very sensibly mistrusts Erebus.
Lorgar - XVII Legion Primarch - Mercurial, outgoing orator raised in a religious order on his homeworld of Colchis, and original author of the Lectitio Divinitatus, expounding the Emperor’s deific nature. Has toned down his fanaticism after a long talk with his father. Thinks Guilliman hates him. Friends with Magnus and one of the few Primarchs to reach out to Angron. No longer trusts his foster father Kor Phaeron or his First Chaplain Erebus.
Erebus - First Chaplain of the XVII Legion. Manipulative asshole who already follows the Dark Gods of Chaos. REALLY hates that Monarchia didn’t get exploded and that he no longer has an easy in for corrupting his Primarch. In canon, got his face flayed off for mouthing off to Horus after he fell to Chaos. May yet experience said fate…
Vulkan - XVIII Legion Primarch - (Mostly) Immortal master blacksmith, very determined, and tied with Sanguinius for absolute nicest of the Primarchs. Also, pretty scary-looking with jet-black skin and glowing red eyes.
Forgefather T’Kell - Master craftsman of the XVIII Legion. Trained on Mars, very meticulous, almost as good as his Primarch at making things.
Corvus Corax - XIX Legion Primarch - Soft-spoken, laconic master of guerilla warfare. Has a habit of disappearing on people when they look away for a second. Fairly reasonable and friendly, but if you piss him off, he will literally tear tanks apart with his bare hands. Living, breathing Edgar Allan Poe reference.
Gherith Arendi - Commander of the Shadow Wardens, Corax’s bodyguard. Can sneak around in power armor and shares his Primarch’s party trick of disappearing on people.
Alpharius - XX Legion Primarch - Secretive complexity addict. Insists that everyone in his Legion use his name around outsiders. Friends with Horus.
Omegon - … Also XX Legion Primarch - Alpharius’s twin brother. Even more secretive.
Twilight Sparkle - Princess of Friendship, Element of Magic - Quite possibly an even bigger nerd than Magnus. One of the most powerful unicorns in all of Equestria, even before she became an Alicorn. Has thrown down with some frankly terrifying monsters and has an extremely analytical mind, but her heart is her true power.
Spike - The Brave and Glorious. Twilight Sparkle’s Number One Assistant and adopted little brother. Has had some problems with feeling ignored and has been helped through them. Quite competent, unless he’s subconsciously sabotaging himself. Has saved the Crystal Empire, twice. Former Dragon Lord.
Starlight Glimmer - Twilight Sparkle’s Student. Former Evil Overlord, now learning the ins and outs of friendship with Twilight’s help. Recently lead one of the more interesting rescue missions in Equestria’s history, and helped free not just Equestria, but the Changelings themselves, from the threat of Queen Chrysalis.
Applejack - Element of Honesty - Hardworking farmpony. Not quite as blunt with her honesty as Rogal Dorn. Almost as strong as her brother Big Macintosh. Very stubborn, and can be a bit overprotective of her family and friends. Very talented chef, especially when working with apples or apple byproducts… as long as she’s actually coherent.
Rarity - Element of Generosity - Fashionista with almost as much of a thing for perfection as Fulgrim. Will run herself ragged for her friends without even thinking about it. Owner and chief designer for three fashion boutiques.
Fluttershy - Element of Kindness - Very kind, very shy, though she has been learning to be more assertive. Scared of adult dragons, but will make them CRY if they hurt her friends. Surprisingly good at being scary, but really doesn’t like doing it. Non-confrontational, polite, and when sufficiently motivated, an utterly unyielding badass who stares down cockatrices and can catch up to Rainbow Dash in flight.
Rainbow Dash - Element of Loyalty - Extremely fast, extremely skilled flier who has achieved her lifelong dream of joining the Wonderbolts, and who can break the sound barrier while flying straight up. Cocky, brash, and will always be there for her friends. Feels a need, a need for speed.
Pinkie Pie - Element of Laughter - Kind, extremely energetic, profoundly weird, and both willing and able to break the laws of physics and magic to get a laugh. Can predict future events to a limited degree. Supreme Pastry Chef, so long as her sous chef isn’t completely out of her mind due to severe sleep deprivation. Willing to go the extra mile (or thousand) to make friends with people she’s just met.
The Friendship Consultants
Chapter III: Introductions
As ever, the characters in our tale are dragged kicking and screaming from properties owned by Games Workshop and Hasbro, with a hint of If The Emperor Had a Text-to-Speech Device thrown in for seasoning.
Konrad Curze looked around the room as he waited for the people his father had called on to be introduced. It was somewhat large, though not nearly enough that eighteen Primarchs, their Equerries, and a half-dozen of the Adeptus Custodes would make it feel anything but crowded. As always, snatches of half-formed visions and glimpses of possible futures rarely to be trusted as literal or even remotely true jolted through his brain as his fever-bright gaze flowed around the room.
From the ludicrous /Azkaellon doubled over laughing at something that had been said to Sanguinius…/ AZKAELLON? Even Guilliman thought the man had a stick up his arse …that could happen easily enough …I wonder what it is, and if it’s even a true vision …ukashan... I don’t want to see any more of THAT…
Konrad winced slightly, knowing that vision was far more metaphorical than the others but trusting it implicitly. Lorgar’s First Chaplain was soaked in darkness and filth to his very soul, enough to make the Night Haunter’s hands flex unconsciously in the movement that would have extended the claws of his armour, had he been wearing it instead of relatively simple civilian clothes. He swiftly smothered the urge to draw one of the many concealed Widowmaker knives that even the Custodes had missed and put it through Erebus’s brain. That wouldn’t be justice.
His father walked up onto the small stage in the room, as impossible for his son to read as always, not from lack of visions but instead from the terrifying, painfully muddled multitude of them twisting and churning around each other. One of the Custodes /Ten millennia of stoic suffering as the last of them to hold to his duties, and then it gets worse when the Emperor is able to communicate again and he has to explain what has happened to the Imperium in the interim.../ poor bastard, I genuinely hope whatever tragedy I just glimpsed never comes to pass, I don’t think I could stomach his brothers’ descent into... *shudder*… ushers in their guests onto the stage.
Their introductions pass into his brain without him paying conscious attention to them because /their true forms shine bright in his eyes, not young women and a scrawny teenager all with wildly-colored hair but a collection of small, painfully adorable horses and a tiny dragon-child/ I don’t even need to look at my smug angel of a brother to know that he sees the same and that is what my vision showed as stunning him more effectively than Vulkan’s hammer slamming into that overly-pretty face… Konrad smirked slightly as he noticed Sevatar’s look. The Captain of the Atramentar might not be able to see what his Primarch can, but he noticed the reactions of the Night Haunter, the Angel, and of bloody course Magnus.
Curze spoke softly in Nostraman as the Emperor’s guests filtered down from the stage to mingle with the Primarchs and some of the station’s staff brought out food and drinks, “Things have gotten more interesting than even I realized. I’ll explain later.”
As the reception went on, he found himself, along with Russ and Angron and their Equerries, speaking to Starlight and Spike. Well, mostly it was a back-and-forth between the Wolf and the girl, with occasional comments from Khârn, Bjorn, and surprising himself more than anyone, Konrad. Angron mostly just glowered positively welcoming, from him , and Spike was studying them all intently. Russ was going on about his homeworld, sipping mjod from a large flagon, and Curze heard the extremely energetic pink-haired girl Pinkie Pie? Guess her parents were on to something when they named her… launching into a rather amusing anecdote to Sanguinius and Vulkan across the room. Something clicked in his brain as he realized that two of his visions were about to collide. Oh, this is going to suck.
While Guilliman liked to show off his ability at processing information by dual-wielding stacks of paperwork while looking at a news feed and reading a book all at the same time, the other Primarchs had similar skill at it, and Curze’s mind calculated trajectories and timing and reactions, and just before Pinkie got to her punchline of “And I said, ‘Oatmeal, are you crazy?!’”, he tapped Russ on the shoulder to get his attention.
As such, the Wolf’s impressive spit-take hit him instead of Angron. As all of those around him looked equal parts shocked and amused, and Russ looked genuinely mortified, Konrad breathed a sigh of relief at having averted disaster, or started to, anyway. “Eurgh… How do you drink this stuff, brother? I can smell my nose-hair burning away!”
“How do you think the Vlka Fenrika hone their sense of smell? Let’s find you a towel,” was the Primarch of the Rout’s amused response as he looked for one of the human staff, and noticed that Azkaellon was laughing himself hoarse, with a genuinely impressed Sanguinius smiling at Pinkie Pie.
Author's Note
Sorry for the long delay and short chapter, many, many things decided to get in the way, and I'm only now getting back into the mindset to write this again.
And yes, after Konrad seeing a vision of what the Custodes might become, he is pretty determined to make sure nothing happens to his father, just to prevent THAT from happening.