Ponyhammer 41K

Gillihone tossed a ball with his horn. His deep ashen gray coat was slightly illuminated with the use of magic within the Discordia. This calm stream within the warp was the only place it was even remotely safe to use. Safe in the warp, what a joke. Ships disappeared never to be seen again, others reappeared mangled with other vessels into spacehulks. Yet the worst were those that became harbingers to the daemons of the mane. There was never anywhere safe in the galaxy in Icehorn's mind much less in the warp, even if it was just the surface within discordia the border between the realm and the depths of chaos that haunted a pony's souls.

He blew his navy blue mane from his face. He had allowed to grow this time around, just so he could have cut precisely right later. It was a bit late for that, his work as an inquisitor of the Twin Sister kept him busy. Gillihone was a Lord Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos.

He paced past his sage ranked adept. Her left front leg replaced with an auto-writer and dozens of pages having printed off onto the floor beneath her. She was less pony by now and more machine, what little you could see that was still biological, her eyes, one ear, and her tail. The flowing mane was gone in place of cybernetic steel and adamant that was unmoving. Silver Scroll was this mare's name, and her hooves clanged with steel upon steel as she walked forward towards the Inquisitor.

“Your pacing is nerve racking, as usual my liege. Would you care to explain your worry?” she inquired, genuinely concerned, even though you couldn't tell if you just listened to the monotone delivery of her voice. Gillihone however had known her for nearly two centuries; he could sense it at this point. He could even tell her sarcasm occasionally now.

“There is something in the warp that courses through my horn,” Gillihone began as he looked to her with a heaviness that only came from the exhaustion of day long battle. The warp even in the Discordia, was too turbulent for something to not be wrong. He felt it in his bones. His voice reflected it back at his cohort.

“Something is just telling me that I should update my knowledge of the fallen 5 and the loyal 1,” he said as his hoof came up to muse under his chin. “What system are going to again? Mareison II? It is near the edge of known space barely within the Imperial border isn't it?” All of his questions were more him thinking out loud and looking for verification of for his own thoughts.

Silver Scroll nodded and smiled a line of pure metal along her muzzle, it was one of the few luxury features her cyberpony body had, emotional expression. “Yes, all of that is correct.”

“Something tells me-” Gillihone was cut off by the ships alarm blaring. Red lights illuminated every room of the one quiet vessel. His light corvette was no match for any form of real warship should they have encountered it. But this far out? The Fringe? Even the Yaks didn't dare raid this close to the abyss.

The intercoms turned on, “Inquisitor! Come to the bridge! NOW!! This is impossible! This is madness! This-” The communicator on the overhead bulkhead shut down as the ship went dark. After ten seconds, the lights came back on when back up batteries kicked in and the alarm was gone. The entire vessel was somehow silent as a graveyard.

Gillihone ran for the bridge. His hooves echoed off the metal walls as he made his way up to the elevator and activated it. He hoped the power would not flicker again.

Silver Scroll trotted behind him. Not running as that was not her way, even in some of the most dire emergencies she would rather require repairs than run her nearly 2 ton body at any speed. Unless it was run or be annihilated.

When Inquisitor Icehorn arrived at the bridge, his pilot and astropath were both standing there staring out of the view port. Their eyes were nothing but blackness lost, staring into the abyss. When Gillihone touched one of their flanks, the pilot turned into dust, black as the space around their ship. He took step back and looked out the viewport. His mind was nearly overcome with the endlessness of it. He glisped eternity within that endless pool of black. Then shook free before his will was lost forever. He lit his horn and used it to seal the blast door over the cockpit. The strain of which made him feel near faint from moving the massive doors with just magical power alone. “Silver Scroll advert your eyes, we are in the presence of forsaken one, Pinkamenia.”

The cybermare stopped and looked upon the floor rather towards her master. She knew he would never tell her to advert her eyes unless he had to. Those soft silvery orbs that were one of the pieces of her body not completely turned into cybernetics. Her one flesh ear twitching for information unlike the cybernetic one. Her tail drooped to the floor as well, the only hair that remained upon her body of orange and silvery white that shone brighter due to the darkness around them.

Once the blast door was sealed the inquisitor looked at the sensor readings. By what the star alignment said, they were where they were supposed to be, but by the sensors, there was nothing here, they were sitting in abyss or at least upon the edge. He shoved the black ash remains of his pilot from his mounting seat and turned the ship around. Icehorn pulled upon the throttle in full reverse shoving them back into the warp portal that had yet close. They had to flee, whatever this event of chaos was, it had consumed an entire star system. Millions of ponies and thousands of drakes just gone.

They were back in the Discordia, the surface warp used for travel and speeding away back towards the last port of call. “Silver Scroll, go now! I need all the information on the legends of the 41st Millennium in relation to the abyssal one!” His horn still glowed as he now had to focus upon the light of twin sisters to successfully navigate the Discordia and drive his ship, Whoovian's Box, through the warp. There was little chance that if he lost focus even for a split second they would arrive in one piece instead of being dragged into the deeper parts of the warp and be at the mercy of the fallen five.

Silver Scroll nodded and began to look around with her eyes. She was searching the inside of her mind as the cybernetic holographically displayed her thoughts onto her irises. She worked thoroughly to get the correct data before her right front hoof began to print new pages. Page after page rolled forward onto the floor, and the information cascading around her as she confirmed it. She knew upon their arrival Gillihone would want all the information she had, both the long and short versions. Her mind read it at a pace that even a super computer would be jealous of.

She began to speak out loud to give Gillihone priority information he would want to know first. “Upon the dawn of the 41st Millennium, Pinkamenia will return from the abyss beyond the galaxy. She will have but one goal, to turn all of creation into the abyss from which she resided for nearly an eon. A star shall die, and with it all life under its warmth, heralding when she shall walk among the living once more.

"Her followers will flock to her and they shall begin a new crusade whose purpose is annihilation. To quote the words of Pinkie Pie herself at the time she fell: ...and the mare that went before now came last, and that which was white and black and all direction was thrown against itself forming a purest pink light. Grown mightily indignant at the words of the Gods, Pinkamenia did turn her heart against them and no pony looked to Pinkamenia now, save those that serve that which they hate, who smile upon their misfortune, and who bear no love save for that of the most damned and those lost to the greatest of despair. At such times as a warrior's heart turns to Pinkamenia, all Goddess of Chaos grow fearful. Laughter is all you can hear in the great abyssal nothingness that drifts between life and death. Let Pinkamenia come back and let despair reign once again......” Silver Scroll paused, “Error, that information is not in the Imperial Archives. It is not in the forbidden section of our librarium either. It appears as though chaos itself has chosen to give us information that I should not possess.”

Silver Scroll slowly descend to her knees as she bowed her head and began to pray, “Celestia and Luna guide us. Bring your servants back to the light from the darkness we tread. Ensure that though we trot through the valley chaos, you guide us back harmony. We, your faithful servants shall know no fear and shall not taste of death so long as we remain within your eternal embrace at Cadance's feet. Forsake us not for we are your warriors whom must venture into the absolute darkness and bring the light to those whom would forsake our harmony.” She remained kneeling and prayed for the souls of the crew and for her inquisitor but not for herself. She offered her soul as sacrifice if needed to save the others. It was the only secret she kept from Gillihone.

Whoovian's Box lurched and shook as it re-entered the realm. What was likely weeks sidereal had been only mere moments for them. They had returned to Atheneigh I in one piece and were scared for their lives.

Inquisitor Icehorn had heard every word from Silver Scroll. He walked into the hallway with her while the ship was adrift. Stopping in the corridor within a hoofbeat of Silver Scroll, he drew his hand cannon and his horn glowed. Turning to Face his servant, he pressed the barrel of his gun to her eye with hoof upon the trigger. The only reason it did not touch the pupil was because of Silver Scroll's nose. TSilver Scroll could see out of her right eye was down the length of the barrel, to a final destiny. Gillihone was ready to terminate her if the mare had even a hint of taint or corruption.

His horned glowed a mixture of sickly green swirling with sanguine red. The two colors of the spell to detect mutation, corruption, and chaotic taint. After a few moments, the glow receded and he holstered his side arm, the .54 Flank Buster a relic from the past that could still put hole through power armor. An elegant six shot piece from an era long since gone. One of the few slug throwing weapons besides bolter that could deal with Mare of Battle. The inquisitor clicked into its leather hiding place beneath his coat. “You are clean, the twin sisters have seen fit to give you a vision, we must find out what it means and how we can use it.”