“Just a gigolo… And ev’rywhere I go…”

The VNC Thames floated dormant within the vast expanse of space within the Aristotle’s Eye, a system hundreds of thousands of light years away from the Sol System where Earth and her colonies were just beginning their development into a galactic power, a massive system surrounded by beautiful clouds of gases and star formations, filled with many hospitable planets and stars orbiting a greater star that made each planet, gas giant and star look miniscule in comparison, a beautiful blaze of white-blue flame that burned bright enough to illuminate and warm every planet and star in its orbit.

“… People know the bar I’m playin’…

Among the Thames, were the Venators Mecca, Gao, and the Edison, hulking vessels that spanned roughly seven kilometers in length and half that in height and a third in width, forming a thick, triangular base that sloped upward toward the back, where six massive thrusters were stationed, powered by cold-fusion engines. The triangular rear supported a large, oblong frontal hull that shared the same width of the ship, albeit longer and making up the entire front half of the ships, supported by thick, rigid and edged patterned armour plating, with the exception of the ‘head’ of the ships, which was bulbous with rounded corners and curves to contrast the blocky design of the rest of the ship. The Thames was the exception, as rather than having a triangular base, it had two protruding rectangular blocks with the secondary thrusters on the back, the primary thrusters and engines mounted on the middle, central body of the ship. Less blocky armour, the outer covering being smoother and less dotted with various protrusions except for the top and bottom sections.

“… Paid for every dance… Sellin’ each romance…”

Below the Thames, a planet of red—really orange—deserts, seas of glistening, clean water, and the remains of civilization that were left over from wars that left the planet in such a state of anarchy that it was abandoned. Ships laid half-buried in the many deserts of red sand, with entire cities and towns in similar states of disarray. Others within the beautiful biomes of green grass and blossoming flora, often with nature taking back the super-cities and towns from a once booming civilization, now a monument to what could go wrong.

“Every night some hearts… betrayin’…”

Within the winding corridors of the Vanguard Naval Cruiser Thames, an atrium was bustling with activity. Soldiers in reddish desert-pattern digital camouflage combat uniforms were lined up in messy lines and groups, listening as a Non-Commissioned Officer of the Vanguard Colonial Army—adorned in a crisp, double-breasted uniform jacket, jackboots and dress-pants of similar colouring—was being publicly commended and promoted by another person, a Commissioned Officer of the Navy, dressed in a similar uniform, except his was white, and his epaulettes were gold with a single blue star woven into the fabric above the golden maile.

“There will come a day…”

The officer spoke highly of the woman, giving her praises for acts of bravery and courage on the battlefield. Her expression was violently neutral; however, her eyes showed her displeasure, and gave a glimpse into the kind of woman she was—cynical, experienced, the term ‘scarred’ comes to mind. A hardened veteran of war, with one leg held up at a ninety-degree bend, with a form of crutch holding it up, with a rubber foot and metal-legged peg supporting the weight she could not, and one arm in a sling, with only a bandaged nub from a little past the elbow within.

“Youth will pass away…”

The crowds of soldiers were made up of uniformed or armoured men and women, sometimes creatures of non-human origin. Some were roughly seven feet, others rounding out to about nine to ten feet, wearing thick armour that matched—mostly—in design compared to their human counterparts.

For the tall, alien creatures, they had thick breastplates and abdominal plates, two belts of equipment along their hips, a sheathe or two on the back of the hip, sleek greaves and thigh plates. Pauldrons on the top pair of arms, with a universal set of upper-arm plates, elbow-pads of sorts, and forearm protection. Simplistic full-head covering helmets, with a “pinched” oblong style of visor that stretched to cover their four eyes and provide accurate view-sight, sometimes with 40mm-esque filters or tubes attached to the “cheeks” of the helmets, the tubes would stretch to the back of the helmet, serving mostly an aesthetic purpose. Some of the humanoid creatures sported white symbols on the left breast of their torso-plates, glyphs or sigils, one could say. Plain ghosts to their old allegiances, often simple, crude and used drippy white paint that bled when applied.

The humans had similar armour—minus the symbols, rather sporting basic emblems or family coats of arms. The armour composed of similar helmets—smaller, thinner visors, with basic “muzzles” that pushed out a bit further, with either filters on the sides, or tubes. Their armour composed of two thick plates that made the breastplates, with thinner plating that lined the abdomen, with small bumps and spiked pieces along the spine and plates covering the lower back, a thick set of plating covering the upper torso, linking with the thick breastplate. A large, bulbous pauldron on the left shoulder, a smaller, often spiked or visceral plate armour on the right. Form-fitting plating on the upper-arms, elbow and forearm protection, with a TAC-PAD mounted on the non-dominant arm’s bracers. Sleek leg armour—greaves with knee-pads and shin-guards and thigh-plating. Some had robotic replacement limbs, either from the shoulder or pelvis down. Never was there only a replaced forearm or calf.

“… Then what will they say about me?”

“… And I bestow upon you, Miss Sunset Shimmer of the Vanguard Thirty-First Army, Mesa Corps, Vulture Division, Twelfth IMAT Regiment, Cavalry Battalion, Company D, the rank of Gunnery Sergeant. May you lead your soldiers well and fight with honour.” The officer replaced her simple silver epaulettes with a set of similar ones. They shared the same primarily silver colouration, except for one golden chevron at the top, and a single red star. They were fastened to her uniform’s shoulders by the officer. Afterward, he threw up a salute—the right index and middle fingers positioned near the temple. Sunset returned the salute, stepping down from the raised platform in front of her fellow soldiers. She walked through the crowd to leave, getting bumps to the arm or pats to the back in recognition.

“When the end comes I know…”

Sunset barely reached the edge of the crowd when the Thames suddenly rocked, sending most of them to the floor, or in a similar state as explosions suddenly shook them to their cores. Sunset was sent flying into the door. Her head impacted the bulkhead hatch, and she soon made close friends with the floor, with a steady line of blood trickling down the side of her head. Her ears rang as she slowly lost consciousness.

Sunset awoke to the feeling of falling. Alarms rang out all around her. She was being dragged out of the atrium by one of the humanoids from the crowd—an Eliksni Corporal of one of the EMC—Emergency Medical Care—Battalions, in two arms one of the narrow-bodied precision rifles for Riflemen, the barrel was short, however the “scaffolding” rails and supports around the barrel that made up the body of the rifle allowed for a wide-variety of modifications. Thin rib-style rail covers covered the internals of the bullpup rifle, a bulbous, ribbed scope mounted on the receiver’s rail—a TZ12 medium-range scope. She was placed against a wall as the Eliksni rushed forward to engage what was assumed to be the attacker.

It stood at twelve feet, with long, lanky limbs and black, callused skin, with wisps of smoke rising off of it, with three-fingered claws that were curved and ready to slice open whatever came close. Its face was hidden, covered by a brown hood attached to a cloak that hung low and covered the legs and body of the beast, hiding any armour that it may have. The EMC Corporal fired the piercing rounds of his rifle at the beast, only for them to tear into the cloak and either plink harmlessly off of an unseen metal, or dent the thick, callused skin.

The beast screamed at the corporal and launched itself forward with a frightening pace, impaling it on one claw, using the other to crush its helmet like a tin can, causing a burst of white matter to rise from the body as it went limp. It tossed the body away and turned to face Sunset, ready to move on her dormant form, when two smaller Eliksni jumped onto its back—Stealth Drakes, as they were nicknamed—armed with light kukri-esque serrated blades, stabbing at it in hopes to kill the monster. Sunset couldn’t make any more of the fight out before blacking out again…

”… As life goes on…”

Sunset’s consciousness returned to her with a start. She was lying, pinned under a shattered pipe, her leg impaled on a sharp piece of metal. She saw fires alight in the distance, the sound of gunfire filling the night, along with screams and howls of utterly inhuman beasts. The sound of flowing liquid caught her attention, as she looked slightly to her left, to find a tipped fuel barrel slowly leaking its fuels onto the metal beside her, slowly dripping down to her face. Fear wracked her mind as she struggled to move—let alone save herself.

Looking around, Sunset found she was surrounded by piles of corpses and debris—some on fire, with a few of them being taken from the piles by those black creatures to be placed onto pikes or Hedgehog-like barriers… Some were still alive. Dozens of the hulking monstrosities limbered about, doing the previously stated task, or adding to the piles. The sounds of footsteps approached as Sunset let her head hit the ground, panting. The exertion from holding her head up was too much—blood loss and injury left her weak.

“Well, well… It appears one of the vermin is still alive… and kicking.” The voice penetrated the air and made Sunset grimace. Deep, gravely and full of arrogance and pride. Sunset cried out as she felt herself picked up by one of the black beasts. Her leg spurted blood, and she screamed, crying out in agony as the excruciating wound was worsened. It took her a few seconds to open her eyes, and when she did, Sunset wished she hadn’t.

Standing ahead of her, towering a few feet taller than the rest, was a light-gray skinned monstrosity, with the same lanky limbs, with an almost regal air about him. He wore not a hood, rather thick, rusted metal armour on his body, and a crown of bone and flesh. His face was disgusting—with six, beady black eyes that oozed malice, hate and entropy. And a mouth holding several long, disgusting tongues that hung out, with several mandibles lined with teeth that opened up far more than they seemed like they were supposed to, supported by bolted metal plates. It let out a laugh and tossed Sunset back to the ground. She coughed, and rolled onto her stomach, desperately trying to crawl away.

“Your entire army is weak.” The Alpha—as she dubbed the bastard—kicked Sunset, causing her to fly to the left, impacting a large metal hull piece. She tried to get to her hands, only to find herself off-balanced due to her lacking a leg and an arm.

“Undisciplined.” He planted his clawed foot on her back and pushed her down, causing her to lose whatever strength she had gained. Sunset coughed and sputtered.

“A dirty bug that doesn’t know when to give up.” He picked up Sunset and stared her in the eye.

“Remember me… I am Orruth, Conqueror of Worlds and Destroyer of Civilizations… and I will eradicate all… filth… from this planet!” He threw Sunset onto a plate, next to the same fuel barrel, now forming a puddle that splashed across her face. Orruth scraped his claws against the barrel, causing sparks to ignite. Sunset desperately tried to get away as the flames approached. Orruth strode away, a wicked grin encompassing his face as Sunset’s screams filled the air, and the smell of burning flesh reached his nostrils…

“… Without me…”

Author's Note

This is the final reboot of the Sunset-Shimmer-In-Vanguard-AU story I'll be writing, if it doesn't gain any traction and gets grounded, the series shall be put to rest, as I've written 2-3 other variants of this story before.

This story is going to--primarily--focus on the story of Sunset Shimmer, her life, as well as Twilight and how she adapts to this new world she's been thrown into, once she's introduced.

My Little Warhorse takes place in the Vanguard-AU.