Sunset Shimmer; Sister of Battle
By Tundara

Operation 17

Earlier…

Flash watched Rarity march off to join the rest of her class with a mix of trepidation and elation. Vindication pounded within his chest and he clenched an anticipatory fist. All his father’s plans were coming to fruition.

He wasn’t a fool. His father’s ambitions were layered as high as the spires of a hive city, and he was only one of many pawns.

A large part of Flash never expected them to reach the vault. Instead they would fight and bleed in the ruins between the landing site and mountain valley and eventually the survivors would go crawling back home. It was only once a century where the attempt could be made, as the various landing sites were rotated through.

Sure, he had grand dreams of reaching the vault, of plundering riches and being carried home in triumph on the shoulders of his brothers-in-arms to be heralded as the second coming of Marius the Great; who was only overshadowed by the God-Emperor and his Primarchs. They were only dreams. Except, now they could be reality.

News of the discoveries within the administratum building spread like a wildfire through the army. The vault was untouched and almost pristine. Ancient, automated maintenance protocols from the halcyon heights of humanity remained active even after twenty millenia. Excitement, jubilation, triumph; they surged in everyone’s chests, and made them dream of making their own discoveries.

Naturally, the knowledge of the Chaos incursions was kept strictly confidential. Being so close to active chaotic influence would unnerve the rest of the children. It made the back of Flash’s neck itch with concern and his skin crawled when he glanced towards the administratum.

Chaos was hardly alone as a threat in this place. He knew that there was something worse.

Beneath the watchful gaze of seven monolithic auramite statues deep within the governor's palace lay a secret passed down in mildewed scrolls preserved in quartz plates. Shown to only a handful of Steinsmar’s nobles, and understood by only its keepers, the knowledge contained was heretical and dangerous. It could undermine and destroy the fabric of Steinsmarian society if it ever was released, or bring the Inquisition down on the entire system.

Flash’s leg jittered. He peered out the gap left in the tent flap like a tiger through reeds at the heavy blast doors.

He was privy to secrets hidden in the vault. One of a select few disciples inducted into the truth of Steinsmar and its sister planet.

A hand swept through his grimy hair. He shot upwards, surprising the others in the tent, and interrupting the argument that had raged since word of the administratum being breached had reached them.

“Repeat that, I wasn’t paying attention.” Flash gave his head a hard shake and fixed his hard stare on the girls across the table.

“Class Three should be the one assigned to the command and logistics tent,” Progena Stacey pouted.

“Clearing the administratum is their reward.” Flash brandished his smile like a sword, making the girl wince at her own petulance. “Besides, with the voxes being jammed, this post is even more important. All this will be pointless if the mutants and monsters attack and smash us because we were too distracted by the vault and unable to communicate properly.”

Stacey’s dislike for her task couldn’t have been more obvious. Her cheeks bulged and she ground a heel on the ferrocrete. She grumbled, “Glorified runners.”

“Aye, with emphasis on ‘glory’.”

Progena Karen glared at her counterpart. “Rehashing this is pointless. Rarity won, and you lost. Serve well in your task and next time the Emperor may favour you instead.”

Flash put out of his head the bickering girls and focused on the map in front of him. It was a hastily drawn thing scribbled on thick vellum. It had the blocky administratum building, the wide open space in which the children were erecting their tents and setting camp, and the storage silos in the south. On one side were guesses for the elevations of the mountain. Criss-crossing in a wide half-circle between the silos and the rocky out western outcroppings were the planned locations of the trenches. Fully half the children were involved in digging and scrabbling in the dirt.

The kid who had made the first map had a good hand and eye, and the details were crisp and easy to make out. Two copies had been made and given to the fastest runners, who’d race to take the maps to the staging grounds for Summer Camp in the event the worst should happen.

Those would be exceptional deeds; assuming they survived.

He didn’t put much faith in either reaching the staging grounds.

Unease rippled up his spine and drove his feet forward. “I’m going to take charge of the exploration of the vault. Keep our backs safe, Stacey.”

Clearly unhappy, but keeping her complaints to herself, Stacey made the aquila over her chest and then barked orders to her subordinates.

Outside the tent, Flash gathered his classmates and led the way towards the warehouse doors. He would be at the front as they plunged into the vault through the warehouse, and into what lay beyond.

He’d only gone a few steps when Progena Karen darted up to his elbow. With her shorter legs, she was almost at a jog to keep up to his quick pace.

“She is correct that it feels wrong to leave the administratum to Class Three,” Karen said.

“It is what it is,” Flash responded. “Besides, do any of you believe that they’ll be able to get through those doors into the vault? They don’t have any heavy cutting-laz equipment in their group. They equipped themselves almost exclusively for scouting.”

Karen was briefly silent as she thought the question over. “There are rumours that there is a former administratum chief’s daughter in their class who has a way with machine spirits.”

The doubt in Karen’s own voice spoke more than any response Flash could give. Flash was well aware of Twilight and her background, and was surprised that Karen seemed to be ignorant. He shot her an arched look to prod her thoughts.

After a moment Karen nodded and blew out a scoffing laugh at the notion, and then smirked. “I worry over nothing. They’ll be stuck logging scrolls and making sure no one breaks those inquisitorial seals. And without any inquisitors to relieve them! Was that your plan when you backed Rarity?”

Flash rolled his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. “Don’t really care what happens to them, but they deserve a small reward for getting us here. They took the most risk. Only seems fair they got something for it.”

He glanced towards the administratum. It was an unimportant outbuilding. The true treasures lay ahead.

“They earned enough Deeds scouting the way,” Karen grumbled, but he could tell she wasn’t going to press further, and having no interest in the conversation he let the matter drop. “You’re too generous. Giving them any more opportunities is pointless. They aren’t even really Steinsmarians. No matter how many Deeds they garner, they will never get any attention. As progena they’re too expensive for even the desperate hab-blocks from affording their genes, and those with the means will find proper gene-mothers of good, strong Steinsmarian stock.”

Flash didn’t care to respond to her assertions.

A few steps later, they were all brought to a sharp halt as the lumens around the camp flickered. A series of claxons rang across the mountainside like the wails of the dead were breaking out of the underworld. The ground shook and a multitudinal mass of screams roiled from the sky and earth. Immediately he dropped to one knee and his short barreled lasrifle swung up to his shoulder.

His eyes darted left and right in a futile effort to pierce the half-gloom for a sign of the commotion’s cause.

Hidden lumens clanked to life and swathed the mountainside in their brilliant glow revealing huge orbital vox relay dishes half-way up, while the peak took on a reddish hue as something began to glow with awakened purpose. Children were screaming, yelling, issuing orders and demanding to be told what to do. Runners darted back and forth to relay orders with the voxes being jammed.

And then he was almost struck senseless as a deep, thirsting laugh consumed all other sounds. It felt like the noise lasted forever, but it could have only been a few moments. As the last lingering echoes of diabolic mirth faded an eerie silence settled on the camp.

Voxes emitted a series of crackles as attempts were made to see if the jamming had been broken. A girl in a progena habit dashed across the path at a full sprint.

He counted to five before standing back up as hesitant activity resumed.

Only moments later a shrill voice shout rang out, “Clear!”, and a heavy boom followed to ruckus cheers. Flash took off with long strides.

Without any sign that she was having to put in an effort to keep his bristling pace, Karen said, “The Emperor’s Light shines bright on us. We’ve pierced the Vault, and it tries to warn us away with trickery and foul portents. However, we are strong. We are resolute. We are His daughters and sons; and we walk always in His light for His glory.”

Flash spat an oath, and then added, “I have the feeling we’ve wandered into a trap.”

It was more than a feeling. He knew that they were about to enter into a hell from the Dark Age of Technology.

The lads that had used the laz-cutter to slice through the thick blast doors gave haphazard salutes at Flash’s approach. A tick of irritation flickered in the corner of his eye. If they were going to try they should do it properly, or just not do it at all. He gave a snappy, proper salute in return before he ducked through the hole, being careful not to touch the still glowing edges.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Gravel crunched under his boots as he shifted his weight and moved to the side. The motion triggered some ancient system and overhead lumens clacked alive with a reverberating hum and all the treasures were laid bare.

A short empty band extended between the loading bays and a series of scaffolding shelves that extended to the ceiling and a short ways into the mountain. Dull grey and blue plasteel crates were on the nearest set of shelves. Tatters of clear binding wrap dangled around clusters of small boxes on the shelves to his left. And straight ahead, from beneath a heavy jungle pattern camo-tarp, were the twin barrels of a tank. Behind it were four more tanks placed out and waiting to be collected.

Flash’s broad grin broke across his face and a chuckle worked its way up his throat. He stood taller, and brushed his hand over the nearest crate. The smile faded a little as his hand came up clean. He took a sniff of the oddly pure air. Cleaner than the air in the hive spires’ uppermost towers. He wrinkled his nose and rolled the air over his tongue before he let out a grunt of unsurprised dissatisfaction.

As he stood there and took in the vault’s storage crypt the rest of his classmates filtered through the hole.

“Tony, Kerry, Tommy, Sammy; with me. Fred, Cameron, Chad; check out those tanks and see if they can be operated. Emperor willing, we’ll drive them out of here. Everyone else; spread out and take inventory of this place. Get the middle strata kids to start taking anything that looks easy to carry. And get those holes widened! You’ve got four hours and then we need to get out of here.”

The boys began to fan out, and behind them came the girls of the Sororitas’ Schola Progenium.

Karen’s hissed intake of breath on seeing the treasure trove lain out before them echoed through the space. As did her prayers as she dropped to her knees, made the sign of the aquila over her chest and bowed her head. When she stood up, she gestured to the rest of her squad to follow her.

“Ensure the sanctity of these relics,” she commanded the rest of her class, and then continued to follow close to Flash.

As he moved through the lines of shelves he heard a couple of boys not from his class speaking. “The Deeds for this… Throne preserve us… How has a techno-crypt like this never been pillaged before now?”

There was a yelp as somebody was cuffed over the back of the head.

“Hush you three-toed grox! Don’t jinx us now. Just do what the fancy nobles tell you and shut up,” growled his companion.

Flash didn’t bother investigating the commotion. He was too concerned by the nature of the vault. He came to a wider space between the shelves. A cluster of shiny grey lines jutted out of this wider corridor before splitting up and heading through the loading bay. He followed the cluster to a set of hanging flaps. Beyond them was a short connection corridor with mirrors on either side, as well as a set of doors. He clicked his tongue and went to the nearest of the doors.

He reached up for the handle, and stopped. His hand hovered there, and then went back to his autogun.

“Flash?” Tony’s voice was beside his shoulder.

He made a signal to hold and considered the door, and the numbered pad next to it. A key-coded lock. It’d be a waste of time attempting to puzzle out the code, and he lacked the tools to command the machine spirit. In the back of his head a little bubble of certainty built, and pulled him away from the door. There were little chances of anything interesting being in the rooms. He pulled a piece of chalk from his belt and made a mark to inform those who did have the tools to break the door down, and then he moved on through another set of flaps.

Confidence drove Flash onward. He didn’t need to personally check every door or room and carry out a mountain of loot. The Deeds he’d already accrued were beyond anyone else in a hundred generations. Every member of the army had accumulated numerous Deeds on the march. The wealth of accolades falling on their shoulders would make them a generation of heroes sought out for years to come.

Naturally, not every member had received the same number nor had the same importance to their Deeds. To form the army, lead it as its general, and to reach the vault when even the Adeptus Mechanicus abandoned all plans on reaching the site placed Flash at the forefront. Everything discovered belonged to him as it would any Lord-General of the Imperial Guard in a similar situation.

He grinned imagining the Steinsmarian nobility clustered around the holodisplays, wine in hand, gawking at the lengthy list already attributed to him. Unconsciously his left hand drifted to the cogitator on his hip that kept track of his movements and relayed everything it recorded to powerful auspex units in orbit.

A moment of concern rippled in his throat. The little lights in the eyes had shifted from green to an unsettling red. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was bad. His fingers drummed on its cold metal surface as he entered the manufactorum.

Or, rather, a section dedicated to finishing and detailing.

Elevated gantries encircled a cavernous room a hundred feet across, and several times that in length. The floorspace was given over to all manner of conveyor belts and servitors for assembly and packing. On the nearer end were four lifts for raising the finished products to either the shipping hub Flash had just come from, or to other storage vaults for later distribution. Everything was in a standby position and asleep. What they were intended to produce wasn’t at once apparent.

What struck Flash the most was the whiteness and how the space was so clean. This was no holy forgeworld manufactorum with molten iron rivers, roaring furnaces, and coal clogged air that overwhelmed grinding filtration systems. Where was the clang of hammers and static buzz of motive force mixed with tar that lingered on the tongue it was so thick in the air? The hum of servitors and the multitudes of sweat coated labourers were absent.

This place was sleek and shiny.

New.

Unsettlingly clean.

He ran his tongue over his teeth and moved deeper into the vault. He passed sets of stairs that lead up to another level or down to the manufactorum floor. He paused for a moment at a heavy set door next to a window. Through the window he saw a rather plain clerk’s space consisting of a desk, cabinets, and a map set on the far wall. He looked down and saw that while the door itself seemed sturdy, the same couldn’t be said for the door’s handle. Flash knocked the handle off the door with the butt of his gun and went for the map.

Written in ancient Steinsanian, it was useless to anyone else. As a disciple Flash had been taught the ancient, dead language. His finger flashed over the worryingly supple paper.

As he suspected they’d breached the loading bays and storage crypt, and were in what was marked as ‘Packing’’. To the south was a large area marked ‘Heavy Industry’, connected to another area marked as ‘Heavy Industry’, but with an additional word he couldn’t make out. A large passageway jutted to the west that was attached to ‘Prototype Testing’. The large passage was crossed by a smaller one running north-south that had various things like the ‘Cafeteria’, ‘Stores’, ‘Security’, and a few others that Flash was uncertain about.

‘Security’ was by far the most common, with many such places strategically located throughout the entire complex. In the bottom-right corner was a strange square symbol next to something-‘Thermal Power Station’. Flash continued to trace his finger to the next area, and frowned. He couldn’t read the word used to mark this area. Next to it was ‘Medicea’. Further to the left hand side was the large swirling symbol that he hoped to find.

With a sharp tug he tore the map from the wall. It was a little cumbersome and large, so he folded it down to a manageable square.

Lumens flickered and his teeth ached as if he had bitten on a wool sock.

Flash froze.

“Director Albrecht, it’s a pleasure,” a saccharine voice said almost at Flash’s elbow.

He twisted around in a blur. His hand dropped to the long combat knife on his hip. At the completion of his spin, he found himself almost nose to nose with a woman in her mid-twenties. She wore a simple white uniform, and held a dataslate in gloved hands. A few tendrils of raven black hair fell out of a tight bun and framed intelligent, deep green eyes. Her expression was pinched, and stared past Flash and the other boys in the room at something unseen.

And then she stepped through Flash. There was a moment of piercing cold as her ethereal form passed through his, and then it was gone.

Ghost! He internally yelled. A manifestation of the Warp. A lingering presence imprinted through the immaterium onto real-space in ages past.

He spun on his heel to keep track of her just as she came to a stop and turned to face him again. Confusion pinched her brows together, and slowly she reached up a hand towards Flash.

Her eyes darted. Scanned his face, his clothes, the gun slung over his shoulder and knife on his hip, and settled on the folded scare map in his hand before she turned to look at where the map had been, almost as if she were seeing him.

His breath caught in his throat. It was impossible. She was nothing more than a reflection of the past. She shouldn’t have been able to see him. Yet, she clearly could. Then she snapped backwards from him as if jolted, and half-turned towards the door.

“I’m sorry, Princess, Director. I thought I saw… Nevermind. Let’s start the tour.”

The lumens flickered again and she vanished, blown apart as if she were mist caught in a breeze.

Everyone gawked at the spot the ghost had been.

Tony’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping on a dock before he found his voice. “Throne, what—”

“Don’t think about it,” Flash shot Tony a warning look. It was one of the first lessons on witchery. Never dare to even think about it, lest you draw its attention.

Next to Tony, Karen’s face was flushed and her eyes were wide as a snarl pulled at her mouth. “Sorcery,” she spat the word. “To be expected on a world that succumbed to witchery and heresy. We will mark the spot and leave a guard to keep the foolish commoners away.” She nodded primly to her subordinates.

Flash let her take charge of the room, and briskly headed towards his real goal.

As he marched along the gantries a broad grin spread from ear to ear. His father had been right. The man was always right, so Flash was hardly surprised. That strange swirling symbol indicated the repository where the ancients kept their most prized knowledge and archeotech. A single piece of which would ensure his ascension to heights hitherto undreamt in Steinsmar.

Tracing lines on the map he found the shortest way to the marked section. He had to go through ‘Heavy Industry’ and the mysterious area, but it was almost a straight path.

Common sense told him to leave. To take the victory he’d already achieved, but he was drawn onwards. Was it hubris? Greed? Loyalty to his father’s grand designs? Whatever it was, he felt the call keenly. A few ghostly manifestations would hardly stop his advance. Glory awaited.

It was slow going through the manufactorum. Security fences and doors blocked off the gantries at regular intervals. Even with the delays of cutting through the fences, it was better than venturing onto the manufactorum floor. It was divided into a plethora of smaller sub-sections through the use of see-through metal sheets. Huge gears could lower or raise the sections, and tracks allowed them to further shift. One such section part-way across the manufactorum activated in a blaze of sirens and flashing lights. A couple of kids had been in the process of scouting it out. They jumped, tried to scramble away, but were trapped as doors automatically locked. There was a heavy rumble and the section dropped into a yawning void. Roughly a minute later it was replaced by a new section with a different configuration to its assembly templates.

Machines growled and began to churn in their archaic purpose. Conveyor belts connected, servitor arms snapped, and with a deep huff steam was ejected from release valves. Sheets of metal began to be exuded, stamped, shaped, and then shipped to the next area for the next phase of forging. A small part of Flash wondered what would be created at the line’s end.

The next area was much like the rest of the vault he’d so far seen. He was on a gantry overlooking a manufactorum comprising three levels. Conveyor lines snaked throughout the facility. Blocky, ancient proto-servitors hummed and whirred to their endless tasks. Here Flash had a better idea at what the manufactorum was creating; war machines.

A group of frames for more tanks trundled from station to station, becoming more and more complete with each until at the last a twin barreled turret was dropped into the chassis that was then itself raised to another area overhead.

Next to the tanks were large, metallic spiders. They stood wispy, long legs that curved up and down to flat bodies like a pair of plates pressed together. There were no signs of optics, auspex, or weapons. As they passed overhead the line shifted forward, and in the automated process the next spider performed a ready check. Its surface rippled and in rapid sequence a slew of barrels, mechadendrites, and assorted devices emerged and then retracted. Flash realised that there were too many to fit within the body of the machine.

On the third line were what at first Flash took to be suits of power armour and lasguns. Only the armour was being bolted to skeletal frames. Digitigrade legs, power claws, lasguns attached to the shoulders, and a cyclopian head slung low between heavy rounded shoulders. These men of iron and chrome went through ready checks of their own; lasguns tracking and moving independently, claws elongating on electrified servo-chains and then rattling back into their heavy fists.

He knew what these things were. Men of Iron.

Humanity’s greatest creation and folly, and almost their doom.

And there were dozens of them waiting to be activated on the manufactorum floor. As he watched, the furthest man of iron descended through a hatch. Who knew how many had been created over the millenia.

“Throne and the Emperor’s Light protect us!” Karen exclaimed. Her grip tightened on her autogun.

Even knowing what the vault had produced, to see the stark reality made Flash contemplate fleeing the vault. To run and run and run and never stop nor look back. The instant passed and he calmed himself with a rattling breath.

“Sammy, go get the others and seal off the doors to this area. In fact,” Flash whipped the map out of his breast pocket along with a pen. He made a quick series of circles and then handed the map to Sammy, “No one is to enter these areas I’ve marked. If anyone does; shoot them. In the head. You are now my Commissars; understand?”

At first dubious, at the mention of being a commissar, Sammy grinned, though the expression was tense, and his grey eyes kept flickering to the Men of Iron that were so close.

“If any are awoken…” Flash let his voice trail off. What would happen hardly bore contemplation. “Make sure no one, and I mean no one, else leaves that first storage vault. Have the commoners gather what they can, and get ready to march. If I am not back in an hour, reseal this vault and return to the landing site.”

“What about you? Where are you going?” Sammy asked.

Already setting back off, Flash responded over his shoulder, “I believe we are in the belly of an inert, but intact, S.T.C. I’m going to see if I can find and retrieve its data-crypts.”

Sammy’s eyes widened at the implications of such a discovery. He took off back the way they’d come to gather the rest of their class and do as Flash had instructed. What Flashs didn’t say was that it was no belief, but a certainty.

This was the STC responsible for taming the Steins system.

“This is madness,” Karen hissed next to Flash as they moved at an even quicker pace.

They couldn’t stop for an instant. Who knew how long they had? Hours? Days? Minutes? Their presence might have already awoken whatever abominable intelligences infected the vault. Point of fact, it’s awakening may have been when the lumens activated, and was the source of that inhuman, horrible laughter. The rattle and clatter of machinery down bellow certainly seemed to indicate that the AIs were awake.

He suppressed a shudder.

No, if that was the case, then they’d already be dead. Given the ghosts, there was more wrong with this vault than just the Men of Iron. If they were quick enough, they could maybe slip in and out before…

‘Before’ he didn’t dare think about.

With his dozen cohorts he plunged through the spotless manufactorum with its sleeping atrocities. Worry made their pace hurried and they would cast constant glances towards the silvery skeletons.

A left, a right, and deeper. Deeper. Into brightly lit tunnels through unlocked doors. Security was relatively lax in this portion of the manufactorum. Gut instincts and his memory of the map acted as his guides.

He rounded a corner and almost knocked Spitfire off her feet. Only a quick hop to the side prevented her from being bowled over.

The girl saluted while Rarity emerged along with her squad.

Flash sucked on his teeth in annoyance and Karen stared in shock, her mouth partially agape.. It seemed impossible that Rarity and her class had breached so deep so fast.

“Rarity,” Karen stretched out the name into a sneer.

Primly, Rarity replied, “Karen,” but didn’t alter her focus from Flash.

“How did you get here, Rarity?” Karen demanded, but Flash waved the question aside. He’d seen the map. He knew of the connections to the side tunnel. That it hadn’t been sealed was the greater surprise.

“The Emperor has guided a number of capable progena into my class, darling,” Rarity responded with a cheeky smirk. “Sir Flash, there have been even more signs of the archenemy in the areas we’ve cleared.”

“You’ve quarantined them?”

“Yes, but…” Rarity’s voice trailed off as she looked around the brightly lit, pristine corridor. Her crystalline eyes burned and her hand dropped to the hilt of a sword thrust through a loop in her belt. Strange, she didn’t have the sword before.

Behind Rarity were the members of her own squad, as well as another. Further down the corridor other members of Class Three were checking doors or covering side-tunnels.

“My class has secured what we assume are the living areas and some workshops. We’ve encountered a lot of ancient signs of the fall of this vault. Bodies, damage from explosions, and so-on. The people of this vault put in a fight against something from within. But, since we passed a jury-rigged blast door back that way, nothing of the sort. Darlings, this vault is cursed.”

He frowned, but didn’t otherwise respond to such a useless comment. His attention was elsewhere. The feeling in his gut was stronger than ever that they were close to something very important. The map in his mind indicated that the data-crypt was close. He brushed past Rarity, and she fell in on the other side, a coterie made up their squads tromping behind.

“Cursed? You barely know the half of it,” Karen bit back, but didn’t elaborate further.

The look of scathing contempt that Rarity gave Karen could have sliced through plasteel.

“Darling, this portion we are in currently is practically untouched and in perfect working condition. We have managed to enter a few of the rooms, and they seem to be places for the ancients to create new technology. Mostly scraps remain, as well as signs of having been looted long, long ago.”

“We just came from a pristine manufactorum,” Karen countered. She crossed her arms and returned Rarity’s glare. “A manufactorum that appears to be for the mass production of Men of Iron.”

“Men of Iron?” Rarity covered her mouth as she gasped. “And pristine?”

“Exactly.”

Rarity’s hand dropped and she glanced over her shoulder. “Do you not find that strange, darling?”

Karen rocked to the side and glanced around the prim, white corridors with their strongly glowing lumens, freshly painted lines, and sparkling tile floors.

“A vault properly sealed…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away. “The Emperor protected us. He brought us here. He must have.”

“To destroy this place?”

Karen was strangely silent, then said, “Maybe. If that was what He intended, there is a chapter of His angels in orbit. They could obliterate this site with ease. Maybe we have another purpose here.”

Flash began to slow, and then came to a stop in front of a slightly larger, more elaborate door. In his mental map the datacrypt should be another few hundred paces deeper. Yet, this door was very enticing, with its heavy security bolts and strobing lumen above its arch. Next to the door was a security number pad cogitator.

A sense of urgency rippled up the base of his skull.

Flash was wholly uninterested in the girls’ conversation. This was it. Beyond lay a prize greater than even the datacrypts. He was certain.

The simple access cogitator next to it had a red light above the key panel. Brow furrowed, he reached out a hand, though he wasn’t certain why. His fingers brushed over the ancient keys. Slowly he pressed the one and two keys.

It was pointless. He’d never be able to simply guess the cogitator’s access code. Yet, the numbers just felt right.

A greater urgency clenched this neck.

He pressed the same numbers again, this time in reverse.

He had to hurry. Something was coming and his prize could be stolen.

The one key, again.

Close. He was so close.

Four, just to be different.

No! This was wrong.

He closed his eyes and pushed back against the dire warnings now howling through his head. There was no resistance, and he pushed through into a bubble of warmth. It was as if he sat on the balcony of the hive spires in his mother’s lap as they gazed up at the moon. She delicately clasped a book in her thin hands, and wore a sad smile. On the pages were images of ancient Terran ponies prancing around a campfire beneath a star studded sky.

‘Please,’ mouthed his mother. ‘Just one more number. Just one.’

How could he deny his mother?

His finger pressed the key.

One.

Hydraulics hissed and the cogitator let out a shrill whine that cut out sharply. The bickering behind him stopped at once.

Slowly the doors clattered open as a brassy male voice roared, “Warning; outer seals deactivated. Warning; outer seals deactivated. Nightmare alpha containment breach. Intruders at spatial manifold chamber.”

Metal ground against metal as the door clattered upwards. A harsh golden light spilled out of the doorway, garish and hot on Flash’s face.

“That is impossible,” Karen muttered.

“It was. And then it wasn’t,” Flash murmured in a half-daze. He glanced down at his hand, a little surprised that his fingers still rested on the access pad.

Rarity signalled her progena, as did Karen hers. Flash nodded to Tony and his lads, but before they could enter the room, three women burst around the corner deeper in the vault.

Strawberry toned hair flowed in the leading woman’s wake like a rose petal cape. Gold trimmed black armoured plates and white synthskin contoured to her athletic form beneath a short white dress cinched tight at the waist with a broad, long tailed red sash. In a low guard she clasped a long silver blade. She flew rather than run, only the tips of her toes barely touching the ground to propel her forward.

The women behind her wore black and white dresses similar to those used on the female servitors aboard Mother. The woman on the left had short sable hair, and raven dark ringlets fluttered as the right-hand woman ran.

It took only a few seconds for them to cover half the distance of the corridor. The sable haired woman’s forearms split open, and from them twined blades emerged. Out of her left wrist the raven haired woman pulled a long cord and began to spin it. There was a click followed by a crackle of blue lightning as powered edges ignited along the weapons.

“Hostiles!” Flash roared as he dropped to a knee. “Open fire!”

Auto-guns, shotguns, and even a las-carbine all barked. To Flash’s horror the women didn’t even slow or try to evade as a wall of diffusion shields swatted away bullets, pellets, and refracted light. Fueled by a burst of adrenaline he understood the true nature of these ‘women’.

He wasn’t alone, as Karen screamed, “They are men of iron! Unholy abominations!”

“Spitfire! Gather the class and fall back!” Rarity yelled over her shoulder as she fired another salvo that did little to slow the oncoming women. When that too proved equally ineffective she drew her sword. “Seal the vault! Seal it!”

At the back of the huddle, Spitfire and her squad broke off and darted back through the complex.

Tony and a few of the lads and a girl from Karen’s squad went to meet the charge. They lasted perhaps ten seconds. The woman flicked a wrist and Tony lost an arm. Another flick and he was cut in half at the waist. Ropey entrails, offal, and assorted gore poured across the floor as legs fell one way and body the other. She flowed over the sputtering mess, grabbed Tommy by the face, which she then smashed in a slick squelch on the wall. With a kick, she pierced the jugular of the girl from Karen’s squad with a stiletto heel. Blood splattered over Kerry’s face and blinded him for the moment it took the woman to pivot and bring her power sword up through his crotch, torso, and exit his head. It happened so fast that the other two women had yet to do anything.

“Side room!” Rarity yelled, and her squad bounded to her order.

Pinkie in the lead, she tackle-jumped Flash to push him out of the way.

The others followed suit. Octavia, Minty Fresh, and finally Red Heart all on top of each other. Rarity took up the rear. Karen attempted to follow. She threw herself after Rarity. Mid-way she was intercepted by the electrified whip. Sparks crackled between teeth in her open mouth and the air became thick with the smell of burnt hair and skin. She tumbled across the floor and sprawled through the doorway.

Rarity grabbed Karen’s hand and tried to pull her into the room. The forearm blades of the sable-haired woman pierced Karen’s calves and pinned her. Rarity’s eyes darted from Karen over the other two women making short work of the remainder of Karen’s squad, and came to rest the cogitator next to the door. Rarity slashed the cogitator.

Above the door, lumens clacked from green to red. With a hiss of servo-motors the door slammed shut. There was a squelch and gurgled scream.

Flash was pinned as the squirming squad attempted to extricate themselves. He coughed and tried to wriggle free, but couldn’t.

Karen moaned and pitifully tried to pull herself away from the door. It had slammed down on her hips, and crushed them into a pulp that oozed between the micro thin seal. Breathing hard, Rarity fell to her knees next to Karen. Her power sword clattered on the metal floor. She stared at Karen, unable to look away, eyes pinpricks overflowing with guilt.

Red Heart was the first to get to her feet. Initially her hand dipped towards her medical bag. As the extent of Karen’s injuries became apparent, she shifted to her pistol. “Emperor guide this young soul,” she said as she administered the Emperor’s mercy in a shot that echoed loudly.

Before any of them could recover, the booming brass voice from before filled the chamber.

“I know you are there, little intruders.” Panels rattled and octagonal golden dishes shook along the walls. “There is no escape. No way out. Not for you nor your collaborators that swarm through my body. Arise, my sons. Arise, my Men of Iron. Arise and purge this infestation from your father.”

In quick order they managed to pull themselves free and form a line in front of the door with weapons raised. Frozen with terror, they all held their breaths and waited for what may come next. It was a long, endless, empty minute. Nothing moved. Nothing emerged to attack. There was only a low hum permeating the room that made Flash’s teeth ache.

“Everyone, I don’t—Holy Throne!” Pinkie had turned back to the others, and in so doing she was the first to truly see what else was in the chamber.

Flash spun in anticipation of more of the women that had attacked them. Instead he got a view of hooves and a tail of stars in a darkly blue nebula. His gaze trailed upwards over fur of the deepest black so pure it seemed to steal the light, across a silvery peytral with a crescent moon emblem, and to the snarling equine visage complete with fangs, daemonic teal eyes that crackled with eldritch energies, and a horn long, slender, and piercing. From the tip of that lethal horn a narrow line of lightning emerged and connected to a thin tear in the barrier between the materium and immaterium.

All frozen in time, held in place by the golden glowing shell of an ancient proto-Gellar field.

Author's Note

So, this chapter has been in the works for an exceedingly long time. I thought it was cut, but it wouldn't leave me alone. I've picked at this chapter so long I must have rewritten it a half dozen times. Funny thing though, at a core level its pretty much unchanged. If you blocked it out using notepads its 90% what I originally wrote out last year.

My biggest debate lately has been whether to make it 17, or have it bump out 16. As you can see, I settled on leaving the published chapters in their old order, even if chronologically this chapter would fit better before the previous one.

Okay, onto a couple things. The code on the door is the numbers to spell Luna.

One of the things that happened as a result of this chapter was a surprise further development of Father, and what has been happening on Steinsanne the past 20k years. I can't wait to share Chapter 21 and everything is made clear! Hard to imagine that we have only 4 more chapters to go in this story... Until chapter creep sets in again and the narrative bloats some more.