Black Horizons

Chapters

Departure
Lightning Strike
Redemption Denied
Portents
Search & Rescue
Ulaisse
Sanctuary
Outbreak
Underhive
Deep Hunt
Shore Leave
The Righteous and the Lost
Ordos
Battle of Ishrem
Chosen
Friendship is Magic

Departure

+Deployment alert: The following combat groups are ordered to report to sector 19 for fleet transfer at 1400 hours local rotation.+

+All Iron Warriors are to report for fleet assignment.+

+38th Company regiments Alpha, Lambda, Delta, Omega, and Gamma are to report for fleet assignment.+

+All Dark Mechanicus units have been granted assignment. Exload data hymns and stand by for deployment transfer.+

+Xenis regiment Tai’chel is to report for fleet assignment.+

+Equis regiments… double-checking hierarch ident-codes… Sunshine, Sweetheart, and Candy Cane are to report for fleet assignment. Equinought Squadron, Princess Luna, report to Warsmith Solon’s forge immediately.+

+The next harvest has begun. The war factories of the Iron Warriors will again feast upon the rotting carcass of the Imperium of Man. Iron within. Iron without.+

SFaccountant presents
an MLP/Warhammer 40k crossover
Black Horizons

Chapter 1
Departure

Ferrous Dominus – sector 14 sub-level C
Laboratorium C-22: quarantine level Gamma

“Okay, but consider for a moment that getting called to meet with the head commander right before a major deployment might be a BAD thing. Just consider it!”

Twilight Sparkle led the small group of mares while they tromped through the gloomy halls of the manufactorum’s quarantine zone. All the ponies wore their power armor, except for Pinkie Pie. She had neglected to bring her Dreadnought into the underbelly of the manufactorum, and was happily bouncing along behind the others.

“What do you think he’s going to do, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash scoffed. “The last time we even talked with him was after taking the Omen. You ask me, I say he owes us more medals for that.”

“Alas, the prospect is doubtful,” Luna sighed. She flanked the Equinoughts on one side, standing apart from the smaller ponies. “Warsmith Solon seemed most aggrieved to learn of our glorious conquest. T’was a grave disappointment, although We ultimately earned his concession.” She grimaced at the memory, hoping that she wouldn’t have to talk the Iron Warrior into modifying her new ship all over again.

“Y’all are just bein’ melodramatic,” Applejack chimed in. “If we’re leavin’ the planet, then Ah’ll bet he just wants us to take care o’ somethin’. Ya know: a special mission, like when we were fightin’ the Tau.”

“Ugh. I hope that’s not it,” Rarity groaned. “Would it trouble the Iron Warriors terribly to allow us into those ‘reserve’ units I’ve heard so much about? Let us wait out the thickest fighting, just for a change!” Fluttershy nodded rapidly in agreement.

“BORING. I hope we get to attack another space ship!” Rainbow chirped, jumping up into the air and doing a brief backflip before landing again. “That last one was good, but fighting daemons creeps me the hay out! Gimme Orks or Tau or griffons or something!”

A superheavy security door loomed ahead of them, cutting off the next section of the labs. Twilight glanced at the control console, and a decryption rune spun into being over the display in her augmetic eye.

“I wouldn’t mind a special mission either, but… I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling about this,” the young Princess mumbled.

“Well, for what it’s worth I hardly think Solon would invite us to speak to him personally for a reprimand or punishment. Or rather, I don’t think he’d invite YOU, Twilight.” Rarity smirked. “The Warsmith is developing quite a soft spot for you. He’d never have the nerve.”

Twilight flushed slightly while she finished unlocking the door. Luna’s eyes narrowed at the other alicorn, and then she pouted.

The massive door creaked open, and the ponies trotted forward into the laboratorium beyond the main hall.

This section was also very poorly lit, masking all but a central path through the hall in shadows. That barely-illuminated route stretched forward nearly a hundred feet to a large metal… thing surrounded by tubes and holoscreens. It was shaped vaguely like a cauldron split into several sections, and placed upside-down. Dark Techpriest Gaela was working silently at one of the screens off to the side while Dark Magos Kaelith, the highest ranking cultist of the tech-clergy in the fleet, watched the device in unblinking silence.

Warsmith Solon was waiting in front of the thing, and he beckoned to the mares as they entered. “Good, good! You’re here! Come in! We’re almosht ready to begin!”

“Good morning, Warsmith. Good morning, Gaela!” Twilight raised a hoof to greet the Dark Techpriest happily, and then she offered an emotionless glance at Kaelith. “Magos.”

“So what’s the deal? Why did you ask for us to meet you here? Are we getting a special mission or something?” Rainbow Dash asked, rubbing her front greaves together in anticipation.

“No. Not yet, at any rate. Shliver is working on our raiding navigation, but we’ll determine shpecific deployment ordersh in transhit,” Solon explained. “Equinoughtsh, you’ll be poshted on the Harvesht of Shteel. Princessh Luna, you’ll remain on Centaur III for now. After the lasht asshault on Ferroush Dominush, I don’t trusht that our bashe garrishon ish shufficient to shecure thish world.”

“Understood. We shalt protect thy bastion in thine absence, Warsmith,” Luna said with a bow. “But was there… some other spectacle thou wished us to witness? Wherefore hath we been asked here?”

“I can only assume there’s something remarkable in the giant metal thing,” Rarity mumbled. “It reminds me of that shell that Big Macintosh was in before you showed him off to us.”

Solon laughed. “Indeed, there ish shomething remarkable! I wanted you here to shee thish, given that it ish, at leasht in part, the fruit of your own laborsh.” He turned and pointed to Gaela. “Techpriesht, proceed.”

With a swipe of her hand, the bizarre containment shielding began to give way. Hoses unplugged themselves from various receptacles, and heavy ceiling-mounted servo arms reached down to clamp onto pieces of the shielding and pull them away. Interlocking pieces of metal slipped free from within the barrier segments, and a hot arc of plasma jumped across the shield exterior.

The process took several minutes, and great sheets of vapor flooded from the openings, further obscuring whatever was inside. After a few of the shielding pieces were pulled away, Twilight got tired of the dramatic tension and switched the vision mode of her augmetic eye.

“Whaugh!” Twilight recoiled in shock, nearly backing into Fluttershy when she saw a distinctive and familiar outline appear through the vapor shroud. “Wait! Stop! Put those back! Do you know who that is?!”

Solon chuckled. “Of courshe, Princessh. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t WORRY?!” Twilight shouted incredulously, her horn lighting up with magic.

“Wait wait wait waaaaait…” Rainbow Dash mumbled as she spotted gossamer wings riddled with holes. “Is that…?”

“Chrysalis,” Luna hissed. The Iron Gage lifted off her shoulders, and the fists of ebony metal settled close to the Princess of the Night, ready to defend.

Once the mist parted sufficiently, the ponies saw clearly that it was none other than the Queen of the Changelings standing on the cauldron platform. Her legs were locked into the base with articulated claws that looped through the gaps in her carapace, and there were a series of strange mechanical rings likewise clamped onto her horn and glowing with faint red indicator lumens. Her crown was gone and in her chest, where Applejack remembered leaving a massive hole in place of her most vital organs, there was a large, irregularly-shaped object with a translucent ruby shell. Inside the shell, the mares could just make out the shape of moving gearwork and patterns of glittering circuitry. A pair of tubes ran from the mysterious object and looped over one of her shoulders, disappearing into her back right above her wings. The Changeling Queen bore no other external augments, but a long crack-like scar ran through her carapace from the ruby device and up her neck on one side, eventually slicing over one cheek and ending right below her left eye. That eye also seemed different, its iris matching the color of the scar rather than the rich green of the other eye. The entire seam was dull red, but every few seconds a pulse of crimson light would run up the length of it, like it was some sort of powered extension of the device in her chest.

“I take it you need no introductionsh,” Solon chuckled.

Chrysalis stared at the ponies expressionlessly, obviously aware of them but apparently indifferent. Only on Applejack did her gaze linger, but after a few seconds she turned to Gaela. “Can you unlock these things now? They chafe like you wouldn’t believe.”

“No! Don’t do that!” Twilight warned.

“Yesh, go ahead and do that,” Solon retorted.

Gaela’s servo arms jabbed forward repeatedly at the holoscreen in front of her, and then she swiped a hand across it. “Confirmed. All alpha level security measures disengaged. Facility quarantine Omega is in effect.”

The sound of the superheavy blast door slamming shut came from behind the mares, and Pinkie’s ears flipped down. “That… That kinda sounds like the opposite of the security measures we want? Right? Don’t you agree, Shmithy? Hello?”

The mechanical claws holding Chrysalis by the legs opened up, disentangling the hooks from her carapace and folding away. The rings on her horn fell apart at the same time, the indicator lumens turning green before the metal loops split in half and clattered across the floor. Chrysalis took her first step forward, and every one of the ponies jolted back.

The Queen of the Changelings sighed when the ponies’ weapons centered on her and Fluttershy winked out of sight. “Oh, would you calm down? Between you and the alien freaks you have enough guns to reduce an entire hive to rubble. I’m not going to try anything.”

“That’s what you’d WANT us to think just before you try something!” Rainbow growled. “We’re onto you!”

A blast of static preceded Kaelith’s interjection into the confrontation. “Affirmation: Experimental subject N-771 is adequately contained. Executive: Unit E-001.12 is ordered to stand down to reduce probability of catastrophic discharge.”

The ponies stared blankly at the Magos, their weapons not budging.

“Unit E-001.12 is you,” Gaela explained.

“Right. Yes. I knew that,” Twilight said, finally stopping the beam charge to her force harmonizer. “I just… wanted to make sure. It feels a little like WE’RE the ones being contained, honestly.” The other ponies slowly lowered their weapons so they weren’t pointing directly at Chrysalis, but none of them put them into standby. Nor did Fluttershy return to the visible spectrum.

“Warsmith, wherefore hath the Queen’s injury been undone?” Luna asked, arcs of plasma jumping between the pieces of the Iron Gage. “This scoundrel ‘tis a devious foe, best left to fester beneath the ashes with her greenskin pawns.”

Chrysalis seemed mildly annoyed by the question, but Solon was clearly delighted to have someone move the demonstration along. “Ah! But I didn’t shimply repair her! When Sherith brought her corpshe to me, barely clinging to life, inshpiration overcame me! You’ll find she’sh not the shame creature you faced within the Nethalican!”

Solon gestured with his augment arm, and Gaela walked toward the test platform. “She’sh much more than that, now. Queen Chryshalish, we are beginning the firsht tesht cycle. Mimic the Dark Techpriesht.”

Chrysalis looked over Gaela with an expression of barely concealed contempt. Another crimson pulse of light ran up the scar over her neck, and her left eye’s iris glowed the same color. Her other eye flashed green, as did her twisted, jagged horn.

Emerald fire washed over the Changeling Queen, and she reared up as her forelegs were replaced by armor-plated hands. Her wings shriveled inward and then straightened into lengths of metal, and entire new limbs sprouted from her back while her body swelled to match the proportions of the armored woman standing before her.

In but a few seconds Chrysalis and Gaela stood before each other, almost entirely indistinguishable. Chrysalis held up her new mechanical hands, looking from one to the other as she flexed the metal claws and fingers.

“Okay… so she can copy other bodies. We knew that. Didn’t you know that?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Corrective,” blurted Kaelith, “changeling mimicry analysis demonstrated limits in mass displacement and cell complexity. Subject N-771 has been modified to ameliorate these flaws in exogenetic cellular morphology.”

The other mares glanced at Twilight, who flushed slightly. “Uh… I think he meant that Chrysalis could only transform into things that were only so big or so complex before. And you… fixed that?”

“To an extent. Power armor typically comprishesh around three thoushand dishtinct replaceable componentsh. The changeling isn’t able to comprehend the material shtructure behind mosht of them, much lessh mimic them effectively to reproduce a completely functional armor shuit. The besht they could do before ish produce a bio layer that looksh like power armor, but exhibitsh none of itsh propertiesh.” Solon stomped up behind Chrysalis, his optics sweeping over her and studying the changeling in human form. “Chryshalish hash rishen above that now.”

“The illusion is still incomplete, however. You don’t have my axe,” Gaela chided. Then she reached out and tapped her twin on the chest. “This is also out of place.”

Chrysalis looked down, and her now-human face scowled. The ruby-red core in her body was poking through the breastplate of her power armor, like a giant red target on her torso.

“I see. One moment,” Chrysalis said blandly, copying Gaela’s voice perfectly. A green band of color swept over the discolored spot, sheathing it in a shell of metal that matched the rest of the armor. A second burst of magic reproduced Gaela’s power axe, which appeared in the changeling’s left hand while green sparks bounced across the floor. The two Gaelas were still not completely identical due to the lump in the middle of her torso, but it would have been near impossible to detect without the two being side-by-side.

“Weaponry reproduction ish a much greater power draw on the core of courshe, shince her variant cellsh shtruggle to transhmit the necesshary energiesh without burning themshelvesh out.” Solon reached over and tapped the power axe. “Theshe pshykant reflectionsh are lessh effective than the true machinesh, but should shtill be combat-viable.”

“Conclusive: Even the highest form of flesh pales in comparison to the deep purity of the machine,” sneered Kaelith.

Solon chuckled again, clapping his hand on Chrysalis’s shoulder. “You should conshider that a compliment. Now we begin the weaponsh tesht.”

He pointed off toward a wall, and suddenly a lumen clicked on, illuminating a metal panel with colored rings on the face. “You are cleared to fire, Queen.”

With a click and a whir, the heavy augmetic that made up the changeling’s left arm shifted into combat mode. The tri-claws spread apart, the forearm lengthened, and the primary projector opened its safety iris. Chrysalis bent her arm up to stare at it, and then aimed it at the panel.

“What an… odd creature you are, Techpriest,” Chrysalis mused while whips of crackling energy sparked around her ion blaster. “Are these limbs as uncomfortable for you as they are for me, I wonder? It feels like I don’t know my own skin right now.”

“The machines are perfect. It is your skin that is flawed,” Gaela quipped. “Now shoot.”

Chrysalis did, spitting a single blast of bright blue at the metal panel. The attack struck the face off on one side, leaving a dark scorch mark and cracking energy flares behind. A moment later the heavy servo laser fired as well, but this seemed to startle Chrysalis. She took a step back in surprise, which caused the beam to slice across the target and burn a scar across the floor.

“Ah, excellent! The weaponsh are working! And the loss in shtopping power sheemsh to lay within acceptable thresholdsh,” Solon remarked, bringing up all-new hololiths to study.

Chrysalis glanced over her shoulder while a servo arm spun its pincer jaws, opening and shutting them. “These… things on your back almost seem to have a mind of their own, Techpriest.”

“Only if your own mind is inadequate to keep them at heel,” Gaela retorted again. “Before your mimicry was little more than a crude illusion. Now you wear true imitations of the faces and wargear of the enemy. Your armor will appear as genuine to any augurs, auspex, or signum scrivener, and function nearly as well as the real thing. The difference is substantial, isn’t it?”

“Okay, uh, that’s really cool and all, but WHY did you want her to do that?” Rainbow Dash interrupted.

“Explanatory: The degree of mimicry previously displayed by species designated – changeling – was insufficient to bypass many common security installations, which assume powered armor and standard augments to generate numerous radiotronic indicators.” Kaelith scuttled around the side, peering down at Chrysalis. “This limitation has been remedied. Subject N-771 is deployment-ready.”

Chrysalis looked up at the Magos silently. Then a wave of green magic swept over her, and her body swelled even further. Within seconds Kaelith was staring at himself; a perfect copy of his long, centipede-like body aside from a sliver of ruby red peeking out from the underside machinery.

“This is… strange. Very strange,” Chrysalis mumbled in Kaelith’s harsh, static-laced voice.

“Error: Speech patterns inconsistent with target,” Kaelith spat.

“Notation logged. Dismissal imminent,” Chrysalis retorted.

“Y’all ain’t serious?” Applejack asked, sounding exasperated. “Ya spent all this time upgradin’ her powers so she could fool y’all more easily?”

“Oh, that’sh not all we did with her powersh,” Solon said proudly. “Give her shpace, everyone. It’sh time for phashe two.”

The Tech-clergy duly backed away and Chrysalis twisted left and right, swiveling her hood full of optics to look at the others. “Phase two? What’s phase two?”

“Admonition: Your speech patterns remain impaired. Directive: Utilize formal comms designations to aid infiltration protocols,” complained Kaelith.

“Does phase two involve turning into someone else? Because I’m over this body,” Chrysalis said, ignoring Kaelith and returning to her true form in a flash of green light. The Dark Magos blurted something hostile in Binaric code, but turned away toward another cogitator bank.

“It’sh lessh a ‘shomeone’ and more a ‘shomething,’” Solon admitted. “Dishengage Nemeshish lock. Authorization zero.”

“Disengage what now?” Chrysalis asked, sounding worried. The core in her chest pulsed, splashing blood-red light across the floor. The gears inside began to turn, and a slowly accelerating ticking sound could be heard from the organ.

The Changeling Queen seemed overwhelmed, if not confused. “This… This feels… good. I think. But what is it? You didn’t say anything about a second test.”

“Explanatory: [System file classified],” blurted Kaelith.

“Oh, come now Magosh, let’sh be more forthcoming! We’re all friendsh here!” Solon’s claim was met with incredulous and aggravated expressions from the others, but he gestured to a holoscreen displaying a microscopic view of a cell structure. “Your biology hash two fashinating and coincidentally very convenient traitsh: Firsht, and mosht obvioushly, your shape-shifting ability. Shecond, your ability to metabolize Warp energy.”

“Warp energy? You mean that stuff in your temple?” Chrysalis asked. “Normally we eat love.”

“The very shame. The Warp is a bottomless ocean of power, but harveshting it for shimple material purposhesh ish… problematic. For ush, at leasht. Not for your kind, Queen. Being that the Empyrean ish raw pshychic power, it sheemsh you can draw from it ash a conshumable energy shource.” Vid-captures started playing across the holoscreens, showing Chrysalis shifting into ever-larger bodies while flooded with magic energy. “With a controlled link to the Warp and a few tweaksh to your mimicry, much greater thingsh become posshible!”

“Like… what?” Twilight mumbled nervously, her horn still glowing faintly just to stay ready.

Solon laughed and punched a finger at another hololith. “Chryshalish, you may now accessh your warformsh.”

“My… warforms? What… What are these?” The Changeling Queen stared up at nothing, her left eye pulsing with new data. The core stared ticking louder and faster, flooding her body with more and more energy.

“Theshe are our weaponsh, Queen. Now activate one.”

Chrysalis started to swell, her body coalescing into green light from her horn down to her hooves. The light expanded to human size, and then grew to match Solon’s approximate dimensions, and then kept going.

“Uh, guys? Maybe we should keep that Nemesis locked after all? What do you think?” Pinkie asked, sheltering behind Applejack.

“I really, REALLY don’t like where this is going!” Twilight admitted while she scrambled backward.

The light finished building to its peak, and then started peeling away to reveal skin of dull silver and burnished gold. Massive arms, a dragon-like head, and a huge body with two rows of smokestacks on its back appeared as the magical energy abated. Standing between the cyborgs and in front of the horrified ponies was a Maulerfiend-class daemon engine.

There were some differences between this body and the typical siege walker, if one were familiar enough with them. For starters, the bladed horn rising from the snout had been replaced by a jagged horn on the war machine’s crown. For another, a row of out-of-place, loose cables were attached atop the head and hung down one side, almost like hair. There was also the matter of the core, which was once again visible in the center of the Queen’s chest among several other slits of light pulsing in-between the armor segments on the walker’s underside. But to anyone less knowledgeable about daemon engines than a Dark Techpriest (or Fluttershy), the transformed changeling was indistinguishable from the monstrous Maulerfiends.

Chrysalis turned the huge, armor-plated head of her new body left and right, and then held up a hand to stare at it. She flexed her fingers, and a plasma arc lashed across the palm briefly as the disruption field flickered.

“I… was not expecting this,” Chrysalis said. The sound that emerged from the Maulerfiend’s mouth resembled her real voice, but it sounded curiously hollow, like it was coming from deep within the walker’s body and echoing out its throat.

“Yes! Well, this has certainly been a learning experience for all of us! I think we’re done though! You can change her back now! Or open the way out, at least!” Rarity babbled.

“Not quite done, no. We shtill have a few more weaponsh teshtsh,” Solon assured them. He pointed to the floor next to Chrysalis, and another target slab popped up out of the floor. “Now, you-“

Chrysalis smashed the slab with a fist, and then grabbed onto the top and ripped it out of the floor. A blast of hot steam came from her nostrils and then she tossed the metal plate away, sending it spinning straight toward Rainbow Dash.

The pegasus jumped, leaping over the projectile. “Hey! Watch it, bug-brain! Don’t think we can’t kick your tail in that body, too!”

“I’m really hoping we don’t have to do that, though,” Twilight added. “You CAN restore the Warp power limiters you released earlier, right Warsmith?”

“Of courshe. But we’re not quite done yet,” the hulking Chaos Lord assured them. “Next ish the heavy ballishticsh tesht.”

New target slabs appeared, this time sliding out of the ceiling just over the group of ponies. A lumen turned on to better illuminate the targets, and also informed the increasingly-anxious mares that they were directly under them.

Chrysalis glanced up at the targets, and then down at her hands. Then her horn started glowing and puffs of smoke blasted from her back. A pair of extra legs sprouted from her sides, holding her body up higher, and magical energy surrounded her arms.

Twilight’s fur paled when the arms started to stretch into long cylinders. “Shields! Put up shields now!” she screamed. Luna placed a force screen ahead of the group, while Twilight squeezed her eye shut and formed a dome barrier.

The green light abated, and Chrysalis twisted her maw into a feral grin at the sight of the two Hades autocannons at her sides. She tilted them upward, seeing unfamiliar icons flash over her eyes while the rotary cannons started to spin.

A brief salvo of bright red shot cut across the ceiling, battering the metal slabs and tearing one of them clean off. That piece of metal landed atop Twilight’s shield and bounced off, but otherwise no other threat touched the ponies’ defenses. Chrysalis smirked and let her weapons fall back to a resting position, gunsmoke wafting gently from the barrels and shell casings rolling across the floor. The casings vanished after a few seconds, collapsing into green motes of light that faded away to nothing.

“Good! Very good! The core ish able to keep up with the energy demandsh of bashic combat functionsh!” Solon walked up to Chrysalis and rested his hand on one of the main guns. “How doesh it feel, Queen?”

Chrysalis eyed the Iron Warrior for a few tense seconds before she replied. “Very strange. This body… I’ve never seen it. Never felt anything like it. Never… taken it from its origin. But now, somehow, it’s mine.” She shifted the cannons back into arms, once again inspecting the huge metal fingers of the Maulerfiend’s siege fists. “That said… I could get used to it.”

Solon nodded and moved around to the front of the siege walker, inspecting her head closely. “Excellent. The warformsh are more robusht than the bodiesh you’re ushed to, I’m shure, and practice will be necesshary for proficiency. I alsho imagine you have shome queshtionsh ash to the full shcope of your combat optionsh.”

“Hey, I’ve got a question!” Rainbow Dash interrupted again. “Are you COMPLETELY INSANE?!”

The cyborgs all turned to face Rainbow, as did Chrysalis herself.

“There’sh conshiderable debate on the topic, actually,” Solon admitted. “Why do you ashk?”

“Because you scooped up an enemy that tried to sneak into your home and wipe you all out, and then made her STRONGER!” Rainbow shouted. “Why would you DO that?!”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Solon asked. “It worked with you.”

Some of the ponies winced at the retort, and an amused snort came from Chrysalis. Rainbow Dash was undeterred. “Oh, come on! That was different!”

“We didn’t quite start out as friends ‘r nothin’, but we didn’t go sneakin’ around yer home and killin’ yer boys neither,” Applejack agreed.

“The changelings have surely caused great injury, but the matter is academic,” Gaela said. “They made their attempt at insurrection and were devastated for their efforts. Their failure, and subsequently their conscription, is sufficient atonement for their crimes against us.”

“With all respect, Techpriest, We believe the changelings hath more to atone for than the harm inflicted upon thine army,” Luna said flatly.

“That may very well be true,” Solon conceded, “but I don’t care about that.”

“And it’s all well’n good if ya wanna let ‘em off the hook, but this’s a bit much, Warsmith,” Applejack groused, nudging her head toward Chrysalis.

Chrysalis laughed, and then the shape-shifter started walking toward the farmer. The other ponies scattered, spreading out to stay out of her reach, but Applejack stood firm and craned her neck up to keep eye contact with the false Maulerfiend. Chrysalis stopped once she was almost nose-to-nose with her, staring down at the mare with a metallic, fang-toothed grin.

“You think this is too much? But of course, I’m sure you’d rather I was still lying cold on the floor of the temple with that hole in my chest, wouldn’t you?” Chrysalis asked, her voice light and cheery.

“That’s where Ah left ya, ain’t it?” Applejack replied sourly, still glaring up at the siege walker’s eyes. “Ah didn’t think that Serith would wanna scoop up what was left of ya after Ah was done. Mah bad, Ah guess.”

If Chrysalis was incensed by the comment, it wasn’t apparent. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised too! I didn’t expect the space apes to keep me alive for long, much less… this.” She held up a gigantic, armored hand and plasma arcs again crawled over the palm and lashed between the fingers. “Is this what it’s like inside that shell, little pony? To know that the claws of your enemy cannot touch you? To have your feeble will manifest in fire and death? It really is an amazing feeling!” Chrysalis gripped her hand into a fist, rearing it back as if to crush the farmer. “Look at you, sneering up at me so confidently! Do you wonder whose gifts are the stronger?”

“Gimme a reason to put a new hole in yer chest,” Applejack growled, “Ah dare ya.”

“Belay that order, Chryshalish,” Solon commanded. “Do NOT give her a reashon to deshtroy your core. I worked hard on that thing!”

“Are you suuuuure, Warsmith?” Chrysalis asked, flicking her long, metal tongue out over her teeth. “It would make for a fine ‘test,’ don’t you think?”

A loud buzzing sound came from her left and right, and Chrysalis recoiled. Luna’s Iron Gage and Twilight’s force harmonizer were on either side of her, all the weapons crackling with psychic charge. The rest of the ponies were also positioned to attack as well; Fluttershy had decloaked and was aiming her grenade launcher while trembling like a leaf, and Pinkie Pie seemed to be carrying a demolition charge on her back now.

“’Tis not just her plate thou shalt contend with shouldst thou continue, knave,” Luna said darkly.

“If you hurt ANYONE your new powers aren’t going to save you from us,” Twilight snarled.

“All right, all right, I think that’sh enough. Engage Nemeshish lock,” Solon interrupted. “I don’t want any of you making a messh in here.”

Chrysalis lurched backward again, clutching at her chest with a massive metal claw. The energy flooding from her core had dropped to a mere trickle, and she immediately felt the full strain of maintaining such a large body without a prodigious power supply. She felt she probably could have held it long enough to flatten a few of the equines if she really wanted to risk it, but the Queen relented. The form of the Maulerfiend was consumed by green light and then it popped like a balloon, leaving Chrysalis behind in her true body.

“Bah. You’re no fun,” Chrysalis pouted, turning away from the ponies and trotting back to the Iron Warrior. Then she flinched, blinking her left eye repeatedly. “Agh! What… What’s wrong with my eye? It itches and it’s all blurry now!”

Solon and Kaelith were next to the Changeling Queen in an instant. One of Solon’s mechatendrils held Chrysalis by the chin and tilted her muzzle up, while Kaelith ran a ray of light over the offending eyeball.

“Analysis: Micro-lacerations detected from rapid mass rearrangement around projector nodes and circuit link. Damage is well within subject N-771 regenerative capacity,” Kaelith declared, backing away again. “Conclusive: Walk it off, coward.”

Chrysalis glared at the Dark Magos, baring her teeth before looking back at Solon. “Is he going to call me ‘subject N-whatever’ all the time?”

“Until shuch time that he deemsh you worthy of individual title,” Solon explained. “Sho yesh, probably.” Then he backed away. “He’sh correct about your eye, however. The non-biological componentsh of your new conshtruction are shure to caushe shome dishcomfort during eshpecially shtrenuoush transhformationsh. Thish ish unfortunate, but inevitable, ash they cannot shift with the resht of your adaptive morphology. I went to shome conshiderable effort to maintain much of your natural eye during modification sho that it may shtill transhform with other bio-organsh.”

Chrysalis groaned and turned toward the mares. “Can anyone translate from Drunken Idiot?”

“He said the metal bits are going to be uncomfortable, but they’re important so you’ll have to deal with it,” Twilight spat. “If you don’t like it, feel free to ask the ‘drunken idiot’ to take them out.”

“You might want to be more considerate, though,” Rarity added coldly. “He’s the only one of us who might be disappointed if you never left this room.”

“Ash if YOU have room to talk,” Solon grumbled. “You yelled and wailed at me for half an hour after I inshtalled your nerve shocketsh.”

“You didn’t tell me there would be SIX of them! And in gunmetal, too! UGH!” Rarity protested, grimacing.

“Warsmith, We must again object,” Luna said, walking up to the Changeling Queen with a scowl. “Thou cannot possibly mean to turn this wastrel free upon thy bastion! She will betray thee upon the first fortuity!”

“Bah! Don’t listen to her,” Chrysalis snorted, sticking her nose up in the air. After a pause, she glanced up at the Warsmith again. “Although, since we’re on the topic: what, if anything, is keeping me from hypothetically using all these new powers against you immediately? Hypothetically.”

“Well, for shtartersh, there’sh the Nemeshish lock itshelf. It limitsh your power intake unlessh shomeone with proper command accessh dishengagesh it,” Solon explains. “Thish reshtrictsh your mosht powerful weaponsh and sharply limitsh your damage potential. Ashide from that, I shupposhe there’sh jusht the killcode.”

Chrysalis perked up her ears. “Killcode? What’s a killcode? I don’t like the sound of that.”

“It’s a unique, encrypted transmission key that certain devices are programmed to react to by instantly shutting down,” Gaela explained. “It’s similar to the system killswitch set in the advanced Centaur-pattern prototypes. Except, as the difference in terminology suggests, a killcode transmission cannot be reversed. It will extinguish the device’s machine spirit entirely and immediately. In this particular case your own death would swiftly follow, of course.”

Chrysalis touched a hoof to the ruby-colored shell on her chest, scowling. “So that’s the leash you’ve wrapped around my throat, is it? And I presume you, Warsmith, have this killcode.”

“Yesh, obvioushly. I’m not the only one, though.”

Chrysalis glanced at Gaela, and then her eyes narrowed at Kaelith suspiciously. “So who else can end my life at a glance, then?”

“I won’t be revealing them to you, Queen,” Solon chuckled. “Shuffice to shay, there are enough individualsh with the code that you should fail any attempt to eliminate them all before they shtop you.”

“But if thou wouldst refuse service and expedite this fate, it wouldst save us all considerable trouble,” Luna said acidly, approaching the Changeling Queen. “’Tis to Father’s credit that he hath prepared for thy inevitable treachery, but there still be time to leave this bloody path entirely.”

“Warsmith, your pet seems awfully agitated,” Chrysalis remarked, her voice exasperated. “Can you give her a treat or a belly rub or a magic mechanical super organ or something?”

“PET?!?!” Luna boomed angrily, her voice instantly rising several decibels.

“Of course. What else do you imagine yourself to be?” Chrysalis said, smirking. “Look at you, yapping angrily at the intruder that caught your master’s eye like a jealous dog. I don’t know how you Princesses can stand here and listen to this metal fool slur his orders at you without keeling over from sheer embarrassment.” She paused. “Also, did you seriously just call him ‘Father?’ Is there some… context for that I’m missing? Did anyone else even notice?”

Luna’s horn blazed and her eyes turned bright white. The Iron Gage buzzed with power, and for a moment the other mares genuinely feared that the Princess of the Night was going to murder Chrysalis on the spot, right there in the lab.

Gaela interrupted, however, and Luna stopped short. “Princess, don’t harm the Warsmith’s property without cause beyond your wounded ego,” she said blithely. When the Iron Gage froze, the Dark Techpriest turned to Chrysalis. “As for you: the Warsmith still refers to you as Queen, but make no mistake: You too are his ‘pet’ now.”

“Which bringsh ush to the final phashe of thish initiation,” Solon said, stomping up to the changeling.

The Warsmith stood over Chrysalis, surrounding her with a series of hololith screens. Some were reams of scan data, some were catalogues of daemons engines, and others were vid-captures of Chrysalis fighting in the Nethalican. Chrysalis quietly glanced from one to the other, and then looked up Solon himself hesitantly.

“Queen Chryshalish,” Solon began. “It ish by my will that you shtill live, your dying hushk plucked from the floor of our temple. The remainsh of your hive likewishe belong to me. The lasht shcrapsh of your people live or die at my command.”

Solon gestured to Chrysalis with his hand. “But you are shtill Queen. The shovereign of the changeling race. And sho I have decided that itsh fate shall fall to you. Now that you have sheen what Chaosh hash to offer you – what I offer you – you have a choice to make. Either your shpeciesh livesh on in shervice to the Legion, in shervice to ME… or itsh memory ish reduced to a footnote. One of many to be marked in the datashtacksh cataloguing the hishtory and characterishticsh of the Centaur shyshtem and the numeroush fashinationsh it held before Chaosh claimed it and extinguished thoshe inconvenient to ush. Your future lay before you, Queen: what do you chooshe?”

Pinkie leaned over to Fluttershy. “I feel like this decision probably should have been worked out before they spent a month turning her into a super monster spy.”

“Ssh! Don’t ruin the dramatic tension, Pinkie!” Rarity hissed.

Chrysalis didn’t reply right away, narrowing her eyes at the Iron Warrior. “My… species? Not just me?”

“Not jusht you.” Solon glanced at Kaelith, who swiped a mechatendril across a control console.

Clicking noises came from above as a whole new sequence of lumens turned on, clearly illuminating the rest of the lab. The ponies looked to the sides, and some of them recoiled in shock while others groaned.

Rows of containment tanks, stasis tubes, and reinforced enclosures with armorglass facings were stacked within the alcoves along the walls. Some of them were crawling with changeling larvae, others with pupating cocoons, and yet others with adult changelings in widely varying states of health. Some floated unconsciously in stasis fluid, others banged soundlessly on the glass of their enclosures to try to get their queen’s attention. Yet others were spread across dissection tables or chained to large machines while servo arms churned over them toward ends unknown. Most of those individuals were dead or unconscious. Most of them.

The mares were fairly distressed at the sight for a variety of reasons, but Chrysalis looked about at the survivors of her hive with unhurried fascination. “Hmmm… what will you do with them if I agree?”

“Jusht ash you have been remade to better sherve the Legionsh of Chaos, sho will they. No more will you be shlavesh to your peculiar diet; the Warp will provide all the energy your hive can conshume.” His optics cluster rotated with a soft whir. “But make no mishtake: you will be shlavesh nonethelessh.”

“Service or annihilation. What a choice!” Chrysalis started laughing, her shoulders shaking with mirth. “Ah ha ha ha ha haah! I can hardly believe it! This is incredible!”

“You find this FUNNY?” Twilight asked, grimacing at a heated tank full of changeling eggs.

“You don’t?” Chrysalis retorted between guffaws. “I spent months cooking up a war to cripple this blighted scrap heap of yours while the Iron goons were out! Weeks of planning, whipping up locals, positioning spies, moving weapons! I had to start a miniature rebellion and unseat an Ork Warboss just to get everyone in place for a single all-or-nothing push on this wretched city! All that work, all my plans, all those lives, just for the sake of taking some fraction of your power and knowledge for myself! And it completely failed, and then you gave me that power ANYWAY!” Chrysalis laughed harder, touching the device ticking away in her chest.

Pinkie chortled, putting a hoof to her muzzle. “Okay that is a little funny.”

Chrysalis looked up at Solon again, a grin exposing her long fangs. “I agree to your terms, oh Warsmith. Make a proper weapon of my children and feed them well and we shall serve you as you wish. Spies, pets, soldiers… even guard dogs, should you need them. All are yours, as am I.”

Chrysalis didn’t bow or display any gesture of submission with her oath, and the ponies noticed. Rainbow Dash shook her head sadly, while Luna’s Iron Gage was gripping its fingers into fists repeatedly, as if the gauntlets were practicing at throttling something. Applejack spat off to the side, her jaw grinding from side to side.

“Then welcome to the 38th Company, Queen,” Solon said, flicking a finger to open up another holoscreen. “You will be joining me during the fleet transhfer thish evening. Your hive will remain here for now; the Dark Mechanicush hash much to shtudy before your shpawn are ready to take to war.”

“Question,” Chrysalis interrupted. “Does anyone know what happened to my crown?”

“Virgil found it lyin’ on the floor and gave it to Apple Bloom. It’s hers now,” Applejack replied.

Chrysalis frowned at her. “I’ll be wanting that back.”

“No. And while we’re on the topic: if ya ever touch mah little sister or her property then there won’t be enough left of ya fer Solon to put back together after Ah’m through wit’chya,” the farmer replied.

“Are you going to be like this every time we meet now?” Chrysalis drawled.

“It doesh sheem to be a pershishting theme,” Solon admitted.

“Well you keep making alliances with our enemies, dear. Usually without telling us first,” Rarity pointed out.

“I thought you’d like that. Harmony and friendship and whatnot,” Solon mumbled.

“We’re not friends, though. You make these alliances through threats and leverage, not because we’ve touched their hearts or convinced them of our benevolence. This isn’t harmony; it’s coercion,” Twilight explained.

“Can’t you make friendsh with Queen Chryshalish?” Solon asked.

“She tried to murder mah family,” Applejack said coldly.

“Then I guessh we’re doing it my way. Techpriesht Gaela!” Solon turned toward her. “Shee to the Queen’sh accommodationsh and give her the tour. She ish one of ush, now. Equinought Shquadron hash their asshingment to the Harvesht of Shteel ash well.”

“This is a really bad idea, Sol,” Rainbow Dash warned.

“Probably, but it’sh besht to keep Pinkie Pie where we can eashily track her,” Solon replied, causing the pegasus to groan.

“That’s not what I meant! I mean, you have a point, but I was talking about the changelings!”

Solon ignored her and turned away. “Princessh Shparkle!”

Twilight almost jumped in surprise. “Y-Yes?”

“Come with me,” Solon commanded, stomping off through the lab.

Twilight hesitated briefly, glancing back at the other mares. Most of them were glaring at Chrysalis while the changeling trotted past them. Rarity was paying attention, though, so she beckoned to the unicorn.

“Try to keep the girls from doing anything… dangerous, could you? I’ll meet up with you before we board,” Twilight whispered.

“Please hurry,” Rarity sighed, “Princess Luna looks like her horn might launch right off of her forehead.”

Twilight galloped past Kaelith (who had been working constantly and in near-silence while the others bickered) and quickly caught up with Solon. The Chaos Lord opened a blast door on the entrance opposite where the ponies were leaving, and Twilight followed him into the adjacent room.

“If I may, Solon,” Twilight began, “Rainbow Dash’s concern is… well, very fair. The changelings are a dangerous race and Chrysalis is a canny and malicious tyrant. None of us expect she’s as willing to obey as she pretends.”

“Good. I hope you maintain your shushpicion much longer than thoshe of ush who bear no grudge againsht her.” A servo claw swung downward and grabbed onto Solon’s right arm. Several internal locks disengaged, and the pincer pulled away the array of mechadendrites, nano-scalpels, and surgical lasers. Solon continued as soon as his arm was disconnected, and Twilight gave a small sigh and followed.

“I really do appreciate your efforts to turn enemies into allies, believe me! But I hope you’re taking more precautions against her than you explained to us just now.”

Solon stopped ahead of the alicorn and then turned around, his legs stomping rapidly against the metal flooring to wheel his massive torso in Twilight’s direction. “The meashuresh I’ve eshtablished should be shufficient to keep her on a short leash, but I have one more card to hold againsht the Queen. Come here.”

Twilight trotted up to the Warsmith without hesitation, sitting down once she was in arm’s reach. The enormous Astartes lowered his chassis, and then reached his remaining arm down toward the mare. He tilted her muzzle to the side with a finger, and then tapped the side of her skull.

Almost immediately, a flood of data poured into Twilight’s neural augments. An aggravating but not quite painful sensation buzzed within her head, and the left side of her vision suddenly became a wall of unintelligible screed. She waited patiently, and after a few seconds her optical switched back to its conventional visual mode.

Wetware inload complete.
Pandemonium codex registered.
Encryption spindle 83.91 logged.

“Okay… and what is this, exactly?” Twilight asked, narrowing her eye.

“Jusht a little shomething to help you keep tabsh on our new friend,” Solon chuckled. “That codex will allow you to detect Queen Chryshalish by a unique energy wavelength generated by her core. No matter the extent of her shapeshifting ability, your optical will not be fooled.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Really? Couldn’t you just give this to anyone with a visor interface? Why let her fool anyone in your fleet?”

Solon shook his head. “I’ve no intention of clipping the changelingsh’ wingsh sho quickly. But you…” He paused, unsure how to phrase his next thoughts. “Well, it doeshn’t matter. The codex alsho includesh authorization for the Nemeshish lock and the killcode to destroy her core. I’ve no doubt the former will be necesshary in the future, and I hope the latter ishn’t.”

Twilight blinked, fairly stunned. “You’re… giving ME… really?”

“Affirmative.” Solon backed away again, rising to his full height. “Theshe are weaponsh of shingular purposhe, Princessh. Chryshalish will be my poishoned dagger, and you shall be the shword hanging over her head. One of them, at any rate.”

Twilight thought over that for several seconds, putting a hoof to her chin. “So, if I were to step out of here, track down Chrysalis immediately, and use the killcode on her, we’d all be rid of her right away and you’d just take my word for it that it was necessary?”

“Correct. But you won’t do that,” Solon replied, turning away.

“I could! You don’t know!” Twilight retorted, her ears pinning back against her head while she followed the cyborg. “How am I supposed to use this, anyway? Should I follow her around everywhere? Should I let her know that I can control her core and kill her in an instant?”

“If you think it’sh besht,” Solon replied. “I hardly think I am better qualified than you to take the meashure of our new friend and hold her leash. I have given you the toolsh you require ash we deshcend upon the Imperium once more. Ushe them ash you shee fit. You will be judged accordingly.”

Twilight groaned. “Great. No pressure.” She spent a few seconds going through the data in her optical, and then her ears perked up. “Wait, what’s this last code entry? It says ‘Apex.’ What does that mean?”

Solon slowed his movement and swiveled around to look at her again. “Oh, right. That’sh part of the Codex too. I honeshtly forgot about it. Don’t ushe that one.”

“Okay. But what does it do? Is it another killcode?”

“Negative. It’sh another power limiter, like the Nemeshish lock,” the Chaos Lord explained. “Unfortunately, our preliminary teshtsh shuggesht that the Queen’sh biology shimply can’t endure the energy demandsh. I didn’t want to build a new core, though, sho it’sh shtill there.”

“A… power limiter? So it’s like the Nemesis lock, but even stronger?” Twilight boggled at the thought. “She was already able to take on the forms of daemon engines… what would she be able to do if the Apex lock worked?”

“Oh, it’sh not that. It almosht certainly worksh, but ushing it would kill her.” Solon continued onward again. “It’sh a pity, but her cellsh shimply can’t handle the short of shtressh endured by weaponsh of that magnitude. I imagine she’d get maybe two hundred shecondsh of combat ushage before she died. Sho don’t ushe it. Unlessh you think it’sh absholutely necesshary.”

“You’ve given me an awful lot of personal discretion, here,” Twilight noted.

“I have. You granted me a great shervice on Medrengard, Princessh Shparkle, and for that you have earned thish boon. Ushe it well.” Solon walked over a large metal plate connected to a vertical rail, and then beckoned Twilight forward.

“A boon? I did you a big favor above and beyond the call of duty and as a reward I get more dangerous responsibilities?” the alicorn asked.

“That’sh how theshe thingsh tend to work, yesh,” Solon waited until the mare was standing on the elevator platform. “Do you have any other queshtionsh?”

Twilight thought about it for several seconds. “Can I have Lord Tellis’s killcode?”

“Tellish doeshn’t have one,” Solon replied curtly.

“Really?” She seemed skeptical of the simple denial. “You built a multi-tiered system of control points and contingencies to deal with Chrysalis and distributed it in secret to ensure she couldn’t easily neutralize them! Hay, you even put killswitches on OUR power armor! But you didn’t set up anything at all to prevent Tellis from going rogue?”

“Embarrasshing, ishn’t it? That’sh why I’m more careful theshe daysh,” the Warsmith muttered wryly. Then a mechatendril reached out and wrenched a lever downward. “You have nine hoursh until the fleet breaksh orbit. You can shpend them shtalking the Queen if you wish, but don’t be late to your deshignated transhport.”

The floor shook under Twilight’s boots, and the elevator platform started rising. “Understood, Warsmith. Just… please, be careful with Chrysalis. I only have a vague idea of how powerful you’ve made her, but violent force was never her most dangerous talent.”

“I undershtand, Princessh,” Solon replied as Twilight’s lift rose into the ceiling. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”

Canterlot Palace – Celestia’s study

My dearest Princess Celestia,
By the time you read this, I’ll probably already be in orbit preparing to leave. I’ve sent similar letters to my parents and to Shining Armor in the Crystal Empire. But this one is arguably even more important. I went to some lengths to make sure Spike could send it to you someplace where Serith couldn’t possibly intercept it.
Soon me and the other Elements of Harmony will be sailing to another world, no doubt to commit terrible deeds of violence and theft against the people living there. To save Equestria, we gave our service to the corrupted soldiers of Chaos, and now that toll is due. I can’t say I’m dreading the prospect of seeing more planets out there and studying more of the corners of the galaxy packed into the fleet’s datastacks – especially on a LEGITIMATE mission this time – but the path ahead of us is paved with violence and hatred, not friendship and harmony.
I know you tried to prevent this, Princess. At times, you may have tried a bit too hard. Some ponies might not understand, but I’ve seen enough of the rot that Chaos seeds in people. In entire worlds. In reality itself. It’s cruel circumstance that we’ve had to make our peace with this vile, horrific power, but I don’t regret it, and I’ll use this opportunity to carry your lessons of love and tolerance to the stars. Chaos is strong, and we’ve used that strength for our protection. But we’re powerful in our own way, and we will overcome.
On a final note: there’s some kind of daemonic will out there in the vastness of the Warp that seems to have a vendetta. Something peculiar within the madness of Chaos that specifically desires my destruction, and perhaps all of Equestria’s, in particular. The Iron Warriors know nothing of it, despite being servants of Chaos themselves. The Dark Mechanicus speaks of it in terms of crude probabilities and hazard. The black priesthood has no clear answers, as expected. But I know by now that these aren’t random daemon attacks I’ve been subjected to. It’s personal. I’m being hunted. And I don’t know why.
They won’t stop me. I will return to you.
Sincerely, your most thankful student,
Twilight Sparkle

Celestia blinked away a tear welling up in her eye, and then bent a wing toward her face to flick it away with a feather. She looked up from the parchment, hesitantly meeting the eyes of her assistants, Raven and Kibitz. The latter pony gulped, wondering what the missive had said; Celestia hadn’t read it aloud.

“So she’s leaving, then. This is it,” the white Princess sighed. “The end of the beginning.”

Raven quirked an eyebrow, and Celestia grimaced. “Twilight Sparkle graduated from being a mere student of mine – nay, graduated from being a mere Princess – long ago, but I suppose it’s just taken me this long to accept it. She belongs to Chaos now, not Equestria. No longer does she fight in our name to protect our people, but instead where the Warsmith commands. The thought is…” her voice weakened and trailed off, and she squirmed. “… terrifying.”

“It’s utterly tragic, if you ask me. If anypony deserved a nice long vacation, it would be her. Princess Sparkle got back from the Eye of Terror, nearly got herself killed assaulting some ship in orbit, and now the humans are shipping her off to plunder alien worlds,” Kibitz said woefully. “The missions to slay Ork encampments haven’t slowed down at all, either. War, war, war, day in and day out.”

“Speaking of which: Your Highness, I’ve received word from the Company Commanders. Their recent reinforcements are lacking proper combat experience and officer training since the Tau wiped out many of their leaders, so they’ll be leaving several regiments here to fight the Orks while the fleet is away.” Raven adjusted her glasses and lifted another scrap of parchment to read. “They’re requesting we assist with scouting duty, resupply, and fire support. Actual fire support, specifically. With fireballs.”

Celestia nodded. “Of course. Get a list of the operational zones and times they expect to attack. Oh, and contact the Wonderbolts again. Assuming they’re not ALSO being carried off into space.”

“They’re not, your Highness. I’ll get on the vox immediately and have a report for you before you lower the sun.” Raven rolled up her parchment with a sharp nod.

“I suppose I should thank the Warsmith he’s leaving Luna behind,” Celestia grumbled, holding up Twilight’s letter again. “Along with the relief that there’s one fewer of my loved ones being dropped onto some distant alien world to die, I won’t have to go back to handling the moon again.”

Kibitz started to nod, but then he glanced at the parchment hovering in the air. “Ah, Princess, it seems there’s more writing on the other side.”

Celestia flipped the scroll around, and then noticed that there was, indeed, a small patch of script written near the bottom of the page. It was a little sloppier than the rest, suggesting it was written in haste, but it was still obviously Spike’s handwriting.

PS: Sorry, I almost forgot. Remember when Applejack said she killed Queen Chrysalis in Ponyville? Solon revived her. And made her stronger than ever. And is making her work for the 38th Company. She’s apparently going to be heading out with the fleet, so you won’t have to worry about her until we get back, at least. But yeah, that happened.

The corner of Celestia’s lips twitched, and the parchment started to curl as her magic aura started to heat up dangerously.

“Your… Your Highness? Is everything all right?” Kibitz asked, wondering if he shouldn’t have said anything.

“No. Things are not all right,” Celestia said flatly, a vein pulsing on the side of her head. A moment later Twilight’s letter ignited, burning away to cinders in a matter of seconds. “But on the other hoof, it seems like we’ll still get the chance to use those anti-changeling security protocols from two months ago, so that’s nice.”

“Er… Princess? Does that mean-“

“Please, Raven, go get me those reports,” Celestia sighed. “And Kibitz? Get me a dustpan and some cake. In that order, please.”

“I… Yes, your Highness.”

Ferrous Dominus – sector 20
New designation: Queen’s Hive

“And these are your quarters, Queen. Or, at least, they will be eventually. You’ll be shipping out with the rest of us today upon the Harvest of Steel, so you won’t have much time to get accommodated.”

Gaela gestured blandly to the cavernous metal room beyond the double-doors that led outside. Chrysalis stepped in past her, quickly looking over the interior.

“What is all this?” Chrysalis asked, her lips curling into a sneer. “This is where I’m supposed to live? Why is there so much trash? What’s this other room walled off with glass?”

Gaela disengaged her helmet, and Chrysalis watched in fascination as the pieces of the helmet split open and folded away. The Techpriest’s face wasn’t anything special, she decided, but she hated staring at the glowering metal masks of the power armor suits as much as anybody else.

“These are mostly incubators,” Gaela explained patiently, gesturing to a number of metal pylons arranged on one side of the room. “This area in the back are sanitation facilities, should you have need of them. I am unfamiliar with your people’s approach to hygiene, but after spending so much time in the presence of a Nurgle cultist a good wash cycle would be advisable. This armorglass enclosure is a nursery. I presume it’s where we’ll be dumping all the pupae that survive the Techpriests’ prodding. Finally, in the rear corner is your bed and room cogitator. Any questions?”

Chrysalis looked back and forth. “Why can’t they house me in the Nethalican? I like that place better. The aesthetic of the Chaos temple, for starters, is VERY preferable to this sterile industrial look.”

“The Nethalican is in use,” Gaela said flatly. “The maintenance of the Dark Portal is vital for this system’s defenses. You are not to approach it ever again.”

“Can’t you set up another one in here, then?” Chrysalis huffed, waving a twisted hoof at the room’s interior. “Such nourishment would be far better for a thriving new hive than whatever these metal lanterns are supposed to do.”

“Dark Portals are not simple devices to be installed anywhere they may be useful. Every one of them is a bleeding wound in reality held open by the madness and despair of thousands of damned souls. Their creation requires fantastic bloodshed and the most dangerous sorceries, and the second-order effects of their establishment can quickly become prohibitive.”

“That was a lot of words, but none of them were ‘no my Queen, we can’t do that.’ So what do you say?” Chrysalis asked, smirking.

“I say that you should collect the respirator from the wall and follow me to the lander,” Gaela said, turning around while her helmet re-engaged and slid back into place. “I will stay with you until I’ve shown you to your quarters on the flagship, and then you’ll be rid of me. Come.”

Chrysalis gave a lingering glance at the mask and rebreather hanging on the wall – shaped for equine use, clearly – and then scoffed, following the Dark Techpriest back out into the smog.

“So, Miss Gaela, was it? I’ve heard a thing or two about you, you know.” Chrysalis trotted next to the armored cultist, her smile revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth.

“Oh?” was Gaela’s only reply.

“Yes. You’re quite the curiosity among the ponies. Enough that their curiosity made it to me through my spies,” the Changeling Queen said proudly. “One of the hateful, angry cyborgs, a master of technological wonders, and yet… possessed of a heart of gold!”

“I assure you, my circulatory organs are all reinforced with less delicate materials,” Gaela deadpanned.

“But the ponies look up to you, Dark Techpriest! They admire you! Believe in you! Trust you.” The last word was delivered with a cold seriousness that felt sudden and out of place in the conversation thus far. “Not that Equestrians are the most prudent and suspicious folk around on our particular ball of dirt, but still. You must have quite a surprising rapport with the silly little creatures if it managed to reach MY ears.”

Gaela didn’t respond for a little while, marching alongside the streets of Ferrous Dominus in silence. Those streets were fairly busy right now, with rows of combat vehicles rumbling toward the lander lots and many more personnel rushing back and forth through the fortress-city. Few paid the changeling any mind, although those ponies that did recognize the Changeling Queen usually reacted with a horrified gasp and a quick retreat.

“As I said before, you should wear a respirator while you’re outside,” Gaela said suddenly. Chrysalis turned to face her, one eyebrow quirked. “I realize that you’re unfamiliar with the hazards of human technology aside from the weapons we’ve tried to kill you with, but the atmosphere within the city is toxic. Respiratory damage is guaranteed with extended exposure.”

“Oh? Maybe your Warsmith will make me a new pair of lungs, then,” the Changeling Queen said with a grin. “I wonder what absurd, destructive qualities they would have! Acid breath? I hope it’s acid breath!” Her wings buzzed happily at the thought, and her gait seemed more energetic than before.

“There’s only so much of you we can replace before you stop being useful to us,” Gaela warned, jabbing a servo arm at the changeling. “Do not treat the Warsmith’s gifts so lightly. He crafted life from mere ore and gave it to you, his enemy. It is doubtful you can ever truly repay the debt you owe him.”

Chrysalis frowned, her cheerful mood falling away in an instant. “Debt? Him and his Company have utterly razed my hive, stolen my kingdom, and seized my children. The changeling race is now shackled to you invaders, to be turned into weapons and expended as you see fit! I’m being shipped off into space so that I can act as his new attack dog, and you say I owe him?”

“Those are the terms of your survival, yes,” Gaela’s voice was as detached as ever. “Do you object?”

Chrysalis looked away, falling into an irritable silence. Then her horn flashed, and her body was swallowed by a blazing green wave of magic.

“It could have been worse, I suppose,” Chrysalis mumbled, her voice emerging as a static-laced growl. She had taken on the body of an Iron Warrior, and the Changeling Queen marveled at how she towered over the Dark Techpriest who had dwarfed her real body. Several of the men walking by yelped in surprise and rushed to get out of her way, or otherwise gaped at the sight. Only the fact that a member of the Dark Mechanicus guided the shape-shifter prevented greater panic from breaking out.

“I hope whoever you are right now isn’t within visual range. Astartes greatly resent doppelgangers,” Gaela said. She seemed otherwise unbothered by the massive suit of power armor walking next to her.

“No, I saw him on the way here.” Chrysalis paused, squinting at all the symbols that were flitting about on her visor screen. Then she held up a hand, marveling at the sheer size of her arm. “These creatures are remarkable. Very similar to you smaller ones, but… simply so much MORE. I feel like I could wrestle a hydra!”

Gaela said nothing, turning a corner. The landing lots stretched out into the distance, bustling with activity. Transport craft slowly descended and ascended in turn, while rows of troops and vehicles waited in long lines for transit to orbit. Masked pegasi swooped down over the groups, some of them shouting instructions and others giving happy farewells to departing friends.

“Hmm… this one is different from Serith, isn’t he?” Chrysalis asked, still observing the Chaos Marine’s power armor. It was lightly adorned, with the trim of the kneepads fashioned into half Chaos Stars and a chain serving as a bandoleer for boltgun ammunition. No actual munitions or weapons had appeared with the rest of her wargear, however; forming those objects didn’t come easily to her.

“Yes. Lord Serith is… unique. I’m sure you gathered as much in your altercation.”

“Hmph. And that Warsmith of yours is even stranger,” Chrysalis growled. “What is he, anyway? He’s not one of these Astartes.”

“He is. Or at least, was,” Gaela replied. “That aside, do not refer to him as if he is not your master too, insect.”

“Whatever you say, mi’lady Techpriest,” Chrysalis retorted, snorting through the vox grille of her helmet.

Much of the crowd awaiting their transport drop was arranged into large block formations on a given landing pad. Gaela stopped at the edge of one such group, only to realize that Chrysalis was walking past her and deeper into the lots.

“Our lander is in section 3-R, Queen,” Gaela said, gesturing a servo arm at the block of Iron Warriors and Techpriests gathering nearby.

“Bah, forget that,” the changeling retorted, stomping off to a different formation. “I see a more interesting bunch this way…”

Gaela was loathe to leave her designated boarding group, but she recognized that it was a serious liability to leave Chrysalis unattended so soon after she had been let loose. With an aggravated grunt, the Dark Techpriest moved after the disguised changeling.

“You realize that we were to travel with the Warsmith himself? Why would you want to join another boarding group?” Gaela groused.

“He smells bad,” Chrysalis huffed while she strode across the lots.

“If you maintain a form with a working environmental respirator – or had simply brought your mask as I recommended – it won’t matter!” Gaela snapped. “You cannot defy the Warsmith of the fleet, even in matters of negligible import!”

Chrysalis stopped, turning her head to meet the Techpriest’s gaze. “Is that true?”

Thankfully Gaela’s helmet was fully engaged, so Chrysalis couldn’t see her face darken in embarrassment. “It’s… true in theory…”

Chrysalis turned away again and continued walking along, halting when she spotted something past a heavy freight lander. “Ah ha! You may inform your master that I won’t be joining him to wherever we’re going. I found some friends to accompany me.”

“You’re the lone sovereign of a hive of semi-sentient drones and the only surviving leader of a lightning insurgency. You don’t have any friends,” Gaela concluded.

Chrysalis laughed, her imitated voice booming through the imitated vox receiver. Gaela growled in frustration, and then doubled her pace to catch up. The armored figures approached another lander, this one being a relatively smaller personnel carrier. It wasn’t hard to imagine why this particular transport caught the Changeling Queen’s eye; Equinought Squadron was gathered on one flank of the passenger block, talking to a crowd of other ponies.

Chrysalis paused before she entered earshot, spreading her arms to her side. In a flash of green, a boltgun appeared in one hand and a chainsword in the other.

“Why are you arming yourself here?” Gaela asked, glowering behind the mask of her helmet.

“I got the impression your Chaos Space Marines don’t go anywhere unarmed,” Chrysalis replied, holding up the bolter and marveling at the relief of a daemon carved into the side. “Am I wrong?”

Without waiting for an answer, Chrysalis strode up to the equines.

“-so it seems we’ll be broken into task forces whenever we reach an operational area rather than answering to a pony Captain. The Iron Warriors don’t really trust ponies’ grasp of combat tactics yet. Which, I mean, fair enough, we just learned to use laser guns this year. Still, without Princess Luna around, we won’t have any sort of Equiis-dominant command structure.”

Twilight stood at the front of Equinought Squadron, speaking to several smaller groups of ponies. The Nurgle-worshiping mares of Phage Squadron stood directly opposite the Elements of Harmony, listening intently to the Princess. A group of cloaked and hooded ponies stood off to the side, while several pegasi bearing a wide variety of wargear hovered overhead. Pinkie Pie stood at the rear within her Dreadnought, its crested pink helmet glowering down at the equines below.

“They called down our entire division, though. What’s going to happen to our unit commanders?” Lightning Dust asked.

“Reckon they’ll keep y’all in line out in the field,” Applejack drawled. “But none of ‘em really know what’s waitin’ fer us on an Imperial planet. Them guard fellers don’t fight like the Orks. We gotta stick t’the humans.”

Breezy Blight puffed a small cloud of toxic gas from her helmet filter. “How do you know what’s waiting for us? You’ve never been on another planet either.” Her wings, one of which was a bladed, rust-edged augmetic, swung open irritably and then slid into a resting position over her back.

“Technically, no,” Rainbow Dash admitted. “We’ve seen them, though. Even fought a few wars down there.”

“You… what? How? That doesn’t make sense,” Rot Blossom mumbled.

“Don’t worry about the details, dearie. The point is that you should, as usual, stick close to our big, tough, two-legged friends,” Rarity chided. It wasn’t common knowledge that Equinought Squadron frequently had Luna carry them into Solon’s dreams for combat practice. Frankly, the Warsmith was afraid that any other ponies that learned about it would want to join in until he had half of Equestria invading his rest.

Twilight nodded. “In addition to the standard Imperial defenses, there’s a non-zero chance that we’ll be facing enemy Space Marines!”

“Wait, really? There are bad Space Marines?” asked a pegasus soldier in shock.

“Well, TECHNICALLY the ones we might end up fighting are the good Space Marines. But yeah!” Pinkie chirped.

“Right, right… Keep forgetting we’re evil now, kind of,” another mare mumbled.

Twilight started to say something else, but her words trailed off to nothing when an Iron Warrior walked past the equines. He stopped just a few feet past Phage Squadron, craning his head up to study the lander. Gaela silently followed some way away, stopping behind the crowd. None of them paid her any attention, despite several noticing her arrival.

All the ponies remained silent. Even the ones that had been chatting amongst themselves and mostly ignoring the impromptu briefing stopped short and stared.

After many seconds of increasingly tense silence, the Chaos Space Marine turned his helmet to the side, glaring down at the ponies through a visor of blood red.

“Does my armor fascinate you that much, little ponies?” the Astartes asked, tapping his chainsword against the side of his greaves.

“Yeah, it sure does,” Applejack drawled.

The Iron Warrior hesitated for a few more seconds before he glanced down at his chest and hissed a curse. A spot of gleaming red was poking through the chest plate in the middle of a Chaos Star, like a gem set in a relief.

“Oh, come on! That could be a real embellishment! You don’t know!” Chrysalis snarled, turning toward the equines and pointing to her chest.

“Gemstones just aren’t in fashion within the Legion, I’m afraid,” Rarity sighed. “It really does look rather fetching, but you’re obviously Chrysalis.”

“Bugger me, they really DID let her loose,” Poison Kiss groaned. “And you went along with it? You actually signed up with the lads what you tried to bury with the bleeding Orks?”

“’Signed up’ is generous phrasing. But yes,” Chrysalis admitted, buffing her knuckles against her chest. The red spot vanished under a shell of gold, matching the rest of the Chaos Star spread over her breast plate. “Why wouldn’t I? The forces of Chaos were good enough for the rest of you.”

“Well you kind of started an uprising and united all the world’s other races against us, even going so far as to work with other aliens who are even worse,” Twilight pointed out bitterly, “so we were under the impression that you were pretty invested in resistance.”

“Meh. It was a good effort,” Chrysalis shrugged. “This result is… not optimal, but I’ll take it.”

“Good effort? GOOD EFFORT?! Do you have any idea what we went through because of you?!” Breezy growled. “Why did you even do it?! If you don’t even care, why did all those people have to die?!”

“Mostly to get rid of freaks like you,” Chrysalis spat, tapping her chainsword against the pattern of skulls painted on Breezy’s shoulder pad. Then she started walking toward the lander’s embarkation ramp “Techpriest! I’m sick of chatting with your pet ponies. Let’s board, already!”

Breezy Blight snarled and snapped up her leg bolter to aim at the changeling’s back, only for Gaela to slap it back down with the flat of her axe as she passed by. “It’s not ready for boarding yet. The servitors-“

“We’ll wait inside, then,” Chrysalis interrupted, striding up to the lander. The teams of servitors and Scavurel loading cargo onto the transport gave the apparent Space Marine a wide berth while she stomped up the ramp, and the Changeling Queen heard no further objections as she entered the main hold.

Gaela heaved a sigh and followed, turning to speak to Twilight as she passed. “See to it your people restrain themselves. I will see to the shapeshifter.”

“Good luck,” Applejack grumbled as the cyborg ascended the ramp.

Chrysalis walked to the corner of the largely empty personnel hold, and then seated herself in a corner, atop a metal crate. She looked back and forth, staring at the walls of plate metal and the panels full of blinking lights and unfamiliar runes. Gaela entered a moment later, and a hiss came from her helmet before it split apart and settled the pieces into her gorget.

Chrysalis looked up at her, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t think I’ll ever quite get used to your real face. It’s not nearly so different from your helmet as one would expect.”

“Some day I aspire to replace this shell of meat and bone entirely with one of impregnable metal, rather than merely masking one with the other. You’re fortunate you get to choose based on your immediate need,” Gaela explained as she approached the Changeling Queen.

Chrysalis simply stared at first, and then raised her hands to her helmet, pressing the fingers of her gauntlet against the thickened ceramite dome. After a few seconds the helmet vanished, disintegrating into a green mist. Gaela beheld what she assumed was the face of the Iron Warrior Chrysalis had copied; Thanallas, according to the spoofed ident-tags. A hard-bitten Astartes with lines of arrow-shaped scars across his leathery skin and no nose stared up at Gaela, and then lifted a hand. A shimmering panel of reflective light jumped from the gauntlet, and Chrysalis saw her borrowed face for the first time.

She peered closely at her reflection, turning her head back and forth. “I… wasn’t actually sure if any of them had a face to begin with,” Chrysalis admitted, drawing an armor-encased finger over her jaw.

“Understandable, seeing how your first contact with an Iron Warrior was Lord Serith,” Gaela admitted.

Chrysalis snorted. “Yes. I figured the others may be different. I just looked at this one and I saw… something cross my vision. Then I changed. It feels… different than before, though.”

“It is different,” Gaela said flatly. “It’s better in every capacity.”

“You may be right,” Chrysalis admitted, scowling. Then she held up her boltgun. “No; surely you’re correct.” The gun turned into a sheathe of bright green energy, and then reshaped itself. The shell of magic peeled away, exposing the glowing flex shielding of a standard plasma gun.

Chrysalis held up the gun awkwardly, turning it back and forth as if unsure what to do with it. “I spent enough time with the Orks to appreciate their own unique belligerence, but you humans are something else. What does it take to create creatures like these ‘Space Marines?’ Or creatures like Serith? Or the Warsmith?”

“Or you?” Gaela asked.

Chrysalis looked irritated for a moment, and then closed her eyes. The body of the Iron Warrior flashed a bright green, and then seemed to pop and vanish into emerald motes of light. Left behind was Chrysalis, who laid across the top of the crate with her forelegs crossed in front of her.

“This all happened so quickly that I have to confess I’m somewhat overwhelmed. I haven’t even been awake for a full day since that ridiculous cowgirl pony left me for dead in the temple. And then I find that my abilities have… changed. Changed a lot,” Chrysalis grumbled, looking down at the gleaming red object in her chest. “I no longer feel like the bodies I take on are mine. I barely feel that THIS body, my real body, is mine!”

“Because it is not,” Gaela insisted. “You are the Warsmith’s weapon now; like any other pile of crude matter, he’s drawn out your potential and placed you among his arsenal such that you can execute his will. This is the price of power, as the equines have learned well, and one that you have conceded to.”

Chrysalis looked up at the Dark Techpriest through narrowed eyes. For a few minutes she said nothing, and the only sound within the transport was the clanking footsteps of servitors moving cargo.

Then, finally, Chrysalis sighed and looked away. “I must admit, I was expecting to be welcomed to this army with a sappy friendship speech, or maybe a song. I find your fawning adulation for that spider weirdo sickening, but admittedly less offensive than having ponies squeaking at me in melody.” She looked up at the tech-cultist again. “Fine. I’ll play your game. Who knows? If you freaks can feed my hive perhaps this will all work out after all.”

The sound of greaves stomping up the embarkation ramp came from the entrance. Equinought Squadron boarded the lander with the addition of Spike and the exception of Pinkie Pie’s Dreadnought, and then walked to the back of the hold several feet away from Chrysalis. An interior door hissed open a moment later, and Pinkie bounded inside from wherever they were storing her assault walker. The other ponies followed in groups that were more or less divided by unit, and each one offered a glare at the Changeling Queen before giving her a wide berth.

Gaela watched the equines board for several minutes, and then turned back to Chrysalis. “Why did you want to take this lander?”

“Because your boss smells,” Chrysalis snapped.

“As I explained before, you can reproduce a pressurized filtration system at will,” Gaela pointed out. Chrysalis just glared at her, so after a few seconds she continued. “Very well. But why THIS lander? You seem to have selected this one only after sighting the equines, all of whom bear some grudge against you.”

“I can’t reveal ALL my secrets,” Chrysalis said coyly.

The main doors slammed shut once the servitors had embarked, sealing the cargo hold. The cyborg slaves moved to a set of maintenance braces on the lander’s wall, and the whine of engines heating up came from outside.

Twilight stamped her boot against the floor to get everyone’s attention, and then took off her helmet.

“Hello everypony, and congratulations and-or condolences on being selected for fleet duty during this next raiding circuit!” she began, floating her helmet to the floor and then standing her forelegs on it for extra height. “You’re all relatively experienced among equine squads, but what we’re getting into from here on out will be very different from the skirmishes you’re used to! For almost all of you, this is your first time leaving our world’s atmosphere! For everypony here except myself it will be your first trip to another planet!”

There were murmurs among the other ponies. Many were excited, and a few were anxious.

“We’ll be going over what you need to know about our raiding target and review specific extraplanetary tactics once we actually board the ship and begin combat preparations. In the meantime, there’s a few things you should know about our primary method of transit, the Harvest of Steel!” She paused for a few seconds, sucking in a deep breath. “First of all, let’s just get this out of the way: the Harvest is a daemon. That’s not a metaphor. It’s a giant monster possessing an armored hull and engines, and we’re going to be living inside it for a while.”

A pegasus raised her wing straight up. “Question: Why, tho?”

“Good question! I’m not completely clear on why the Iron Warriors would want ponies on the flagship, where their elite strike forces and leadership are. I suspect it’s because Warsmith Solon feels I should be there, and if I’m staying there he may as well post all us ponies there.”

“So this is your fault, huh?” Lightning Dust grumbled.

“It’s not a bad thing! The Harvest isn’t dangerous!” Twilight protested.

Spike gave her a look. “What? Yes it is.”

“It’s… I mean, it CAN be, but inflicting actual harm upon passengers is rare!”

“We were attacked by a possessed trash pile.”

“That wasn’t the ship! It was a random daemonic incursion! We’re talking about the ship here!”

“I think it’s kind of important to know about how often we’re going to be attacked by daemons on the ship,” Rainbow Dash said. “Is this a once a week thing? Are there daily daemons?”

“There are NOT daily daemons, no. This was an isolated incident!” Twilight insisted.

“You were attacked three times in, what, an hour?” Spike grumbled.

“I consider the entire day’s battles a single incident! Now let me continue!” Twilight snapped before clearing her throat. “Anyway, while there are certain protocols to be followed because the Harvest is a fusion of technology and arcane Warp-flesh, for the most part the vessel functions just like any other ship! You’ll have bunks and mess halls and sanitation cells and regular work assignments! For the majority of you it will be your first time on a voidcraft and your first time experiencing Warp travel, and as somepony who’s been all the way to the Eye of Terror and back I can tell you that most of it is surprisingly mundane! So I don’t want any of you to worry or start panicking if you hear strange noises, or a crew member cracks a joke about being in a monster’s belly, or you see a mummified engineer trapped in a mass of cables against the wall with her expression locked in perpetual agony! It’s all perfectly normal!”

There were some uncomfortable murmurs from the ponies, but unlike before, none of them interrupted to ask questions.

“…… Also you might have nightmares every single night,” Twilight added quickly, coughing afterward. “Sorry.”

“Say what?!”

Chrysalis narrowed her eyes and then tilted her head to look at Gaela questioningly.

“Yes, she’s being serious,” Gaela replied to the unspoken question. “As for the trapped crew, they’re quiet and unobtrusive. Treat them as you would a decorative statuary.”

“When we were on board during the attack on the space hulk they kept screaming and swiping at me!” Pinkie Pie complained, suddenly stepping out from under the Techpriest’s robes.

Gaela scowled down at the mare. “That’s because you kept trying to feed them candy.”

“What kind of monster gets MORE upset when they’re given delicious treats?” Pinkie demanded, waving a hoof at Gaela accusingly.

A servo arm reached down and grabbed onto Pinkie’s tail, dragging her back under Gaela’s robes and out of sight. “Anyway, Sparkle is correct that the risk from embarkation is minimal, and her experience to the contrary was unique. Daemonic incursions are rare and quickly terminated.”

“Hmph. Kind of a shame. It actually sounded rather interesting,” Chrysalis admitted.

“Yes, yes, I know it’s terrible. And there’s other creepy aspects to living in the Harvest too. But it’s a perfectly viable living space and battleship and, by the way, the air inside is at least clean enough that you can walk around without a face mask,” Twilight huffed. “Are there any other questions?”

Poison Kiss tapped her boot against the deck. “Is there a Chaos Temple on board? If there’s going to be a lot of mucking about day-to-day I might fancy some extra prayers.”

Twilight hesitated, so Gaela turned around to respond. “There are temples on the Harvest, yes. In addition, the underdecks contain a quarantine zone specifically reserved for Nurgle’s devoted.”

“Really?” Rot Blossom asked, her ears perking up. “What’s down there?”

“I don’t know, as I am not part of that cult,” Gaela drawled. “But surely it differs little from any other altar to the Plague God. Rotting remains, pools of offal, rust and detritus, and other such filth easily find their way to the bowels of our voidcraft.”

Breezy squealed in delight, clapping her front greaves together. The other ponies gave a few uncertain chuckles and shifted slightly to give the cultist mares some more space.

Lightning Dust raised her wing in the air. “I’ve got a question: if the ships is alive, and it doesn’t eat us, what DOES it eat?”

“People who tick me off,” Twilight said flatly.

There was a long, tense pause after that answer, and then the alicorn laughed. “Ha! That was a bit of an inside joke! But seriously, the Harvest does feed on the body and souls of the living, and those souls usually come from warriors and prisoners who have the misfortune of being our enemies. Next question!”

“Are we really going to have to fight humans on this mission?” a unicorn asked timidly. “They’re supposed to be on our side, aren’t they? Isn’t there anything we can do for them? I don’t wanna kill a human!”

Twilight grimaced. “Another good question, and a rather uncomfortable one. Humans are generally divided into Imperial and Chaos factions, from what I understand, with our good friends here in the 38th Company being a mere splinter of the ‘Chaos’ faction. Most humans belong to the ‘Imperial’ faction, and it’s there that the fleet finds most of its targets.”

Then she seemed to brighten. “However, while war IS the default status, there’s still something we can do! Chaos primarily refreshes its numbers by convincing humans to turn on the brutal, oppressive Imperium and join Chaos instead! With the power of friendship – aided by tactical superiority – we can show the humans a better way!”

Most of the ponies cheered, brightening at the thought.

“Is it actually better, though?” asked a hooded unicorn near the back.

Twilight grimaced. “Look, Chaos is a terrifying cult filled with monsters and blood sacrifice and torment. There has to be something out there even worse if humans are willing to defect in the first place, right?”

“Maybe we just get all the loser humans? You know, like how the 38th Company gets all the loser Iron Warriors?” asked a stallion.

“Oh, come on!” Twilight protested. “You all know at least a few humans from Ferrous Dominus! Do they seem like losers to you?”

There was a long silence from the other ponies, along with some quiet shuffling and awkward coughs. Gaela elected not to respond either, busying herself by calculating the estimated time to arrival.

“Darling, we’re getting sidetracked,” Rarity warned while she re-did her hair.

“Right. Yes. As I was saying, if you find yourself in a position to convince Imperial humans to be our friends and join the 38th Company, you should know that it’s a regular practice of theirs!” Twilight nodded decisively.

“They also take people who aren’t willing to be our friends, but happen to be wounded or helpless,” Rainbow Dash added. “So we have options if you really don’t want to kill anybody.”

Twilight hunger her head. “Ugh! Rainbow Dash, could you just-“

A metallic crashing noise came from the access doors, startling the lander’s occupants. It didn’t sound like a weapon impact, and there was no explosion or hull breach. Still, it was worrying enough that Gaela turned on her heel to scan the door for any sign of damage. Chrysalis tensed, preparing herself to leap behind the Equinoughts if necessary.

“What was that?” Applejack asked. “I didn’t hear nothin’ like that the last time we made this trip.”

Gaela narrowed her organic eye, and then her helmet started shifting back into place. “We have a problem.”

“What’s the problem? Is it Orks?!” Rainbow asked.

“Space debris?” Twilight guessed, rapidly putting on her own helmet.

“Is it daemons? PLEASE say we don’t have daemons already,” Spike begged.

“It is not any of those things,” Gaela said darkly. “It’s worse.”

“WORSE?” Fluttershy yelped. “What’s worse than daemons?”

A sizzling, shrieking sound came from the doors as a set of glowing claws punched through the barrier. The primary lock that kept the doors sealed extra-tight for void travel promptly fell to the floor in pieces.

“KNOCK KNOCK!!” screamed Tellis.

“Oh,” mumbled Twilight, clicking her helmet into place.

A loud, heavy screech came from the doors as they were slowly pried apart. Air started to rush out of the opening, and the nearest ponies scrambled away while the interior began to depressurize.

One pegasus mare made the unfortunate decision to spread her wings while escaping, and she instantly caught the bulk of the air rushing past her and out into low orbit. She was lifted off the floor and swept backward, her hooves and wings flailing uselessly. Threads of unicorn magic reached out toward her, but in the panic of the moment the telekinesis was either poorly aimed or not enough to help. The mare was flung, screaming, into the widening slit between the lander’s access doors.

Then she landed in a large, metal-encased hand, which promptly carried her back into the lander’s cargo bay.

“YES! Found the pony transport!” Tellis shouldered his way into the cargo bay, and the lander’s entry doors slammed shut behind him. The hiss of escaping atmosphere still came from the embarkation ramp, mostly because of the holes torn in the blast doors, but the Iron Warrior ignored it and stepped forward.

“Hey Tellis!” Rainbow Dash said brightly. “You’re late! Or were you assigned to a different transport?”

“I dunno. Probably? All these tubs look alike.” Tellis held the pony he caught like a cat, resting her on one arm and scratching her back with his free hand. She seemed extremely uncomfortable with this arrangement, if not mostly stunned from nearly being sucked out of the transport.

Tellis walked up to Equinought Squadron and stopped right in front of Twilight. She looked up at him warily.

“… Did you want something from me, Tellis?” she asked after a tense pause.

“You’re damn right I do! I want an apology!” Tellis snapped, still petting the confused pegasus in combat armor.

“An apology for what?” Twilight was genuinely confused. Obviously she didn’t remember doing anything to slight the Chaos Lord, despite her antipathy for him. Aside from that, though, she had assumed he would never resort to demanding apologies over more physical means of demonstrating his displeasure.

“For what?! You guys boarded a daemon-infested derelict! You had an awesome space adventure and you left me behind!” Tellis protested, his wings spreading behind him in what Twilight assumed to be some kind of intimidation pose.

The mare on his arm started squirming and flapping her wings, and Tellis paused to let her down onto the floor. Then he went back to glaring at Twilight, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Of COURSE we left you behind!” Twilight continued once the pegasus was clear. “Our objective was to take the ship intact and with minimal damage! We didn’t need you to get bored and start kicking in control panels or trying to vent sections of the ship or tossing us into the reactor pits!”

“When have I EVER done something like that?!” Tellis demanded.

A sizzling noise came from behind him. Tellis turned to look, and he saw that Gaela was standing in front of the cargo bay entrance. Her welding laser was rapidly sealing the holes made by his claws, while at the same time she wedged her axe into the remains of the lock to force it closed. Twilight coughed, still staring up at the Chaos Lord.

“…… Whatever, dweeb. I didn’t want to join your lame boarding party anyway,” Tellis grumbled, turning sharply away from Equinought Squadron. He pointed over to Chrysalis, which immediately set off a whole host of alarm bells in her head. “Did we find another changeling? Cool! I hope that Sorcerer jackass doesn’t kill this one for laughs!”

“Oh, right, you two haven’t actually met, have you?” Rainbow Dash smirked and rushed up next to Tellis, hovering at chest level. “Chrysalis, this is Tellis. Tellis, this is Queen Chrysalis! Well, ex-queen, I guess. She’s more like a vassal now.”

“Vassal Chrysalis. Cool, cool,” Tellis mumbled, striding up to the changeling in question. “Vassal to who, exactly?”

“To the big, dumb, smelly one,” Chrysalis replied sharply.

“You’ll need to be more specific. We have two of those. Was it the dorky smelly one or the angry smelly one?” Tellis pressed.

Chrysalis considered the question for a moment. “Definitely the dorky smelly one.”

“He saved your life, you know,” Rainbow Dash reminded her somewhat bitterly.

“And gave me the power to turn into a giant killer robot!” Chrysalis added. “But he’s still dumb and he still smells.”

“This one sounds a lot smarter than the other changelings,” Tellis remarked, tilting his helmet to the side. “And you said she was the Queen?”

“That’s correct,” Chrysalis said, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Up until the remainder of my hive was scooped up for the Warsmith’s experiments, I was the absolute ruler of the changeling race.” She paused, touching a twisted hoof to her chin. “… I suppose I still am, assuming any of my hive are eventually freed. But ultimately I serve you weirdos.”

“So I can still build my changeling farm, then!” the Chaos Lord said brightly. “I don’t know where I can set up on the Harvest, but I’ll put something together. I can get some dirt and food from the first raid! What do you guys eat?”

Chrysalis just stared at Tellis incredulously, so Rainbow answered his question instead. “Apparently they can eat the Warp if they’re around a portal or something, but usually they eat love. I’m not totally sure if it’s, like, sexy love or warm-and-fluffy-feelings love. Probably both. But they definitely eat love.”

“So… should I feed them hookers, then?” Tellis asked uncertainly.

“Why are they LIKE this?” Chrysalis complained to the armored mares behind Tellis.

“Very long lifespans combined with an environment of distilled terror, psychic torment, and constant warfare,” Twilight mumbled. “Although most of them still aren’t like Tellis, so take from that what you will.”

Some yellow lumens in the ceiling turned on, and a grating, feminine voice came from the vox caster.

“Beginning docking approach. All hands, prepare cargo bays and embarkation links for contact.”

A tremor ran through the vessel’s hull, agitating some of the ponies. New sounds filled the cargo bay as heavy machinery started to move and the servitors woke up once more.

“Welcome to the Harvest of Steel, the most holy vessel of Chaos. May you all be blessed by its agonizing radiance, and fortunate enough not to meet your end within its depths."

“Thank you!” Pinkie Pie chirped, waving to the vox caster.

Harvest of Steel
Deck C-13 – equine bunks

“Well these are… hmm… cozy.”

Rarity levitated her helmet onto a metal peg on the wall, looking over the room interior with a resigned expression. It had three beds attached to one wall, each one mounted higher than the other, and a cramped central floor area. Opposite the bunks were some storage racks, and on the wall opposite the entrance was a cogitator. There was little else of note in the room, and the seamstress immediately found herself pining for the spacious, if equally dull, quarters back in Ferrous Dominus.

“Boy howdy, it’ll be good to take all this armor off!” Applejack stepped in behind Rarity, and then a series of clicks came from her suit as all the sleeve locks disengaged. “A little help, Rares?”

“Of course, darling.” Rarity’s horn began to glow again.

Rainbow Dash flew in over the other two, spinning around once in the air to take in the interior. “Ceiling clearance is way less than I’d like, but whatever. I don’t expect to be hanging out in here anyway!”

Twilight stood outside the room with Spike at her side. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie had already been dropped off in the adjacent room, although the latter had already run off to explore.

“Me and Spike are in the room next door, although I’ll probably head up to the bridge to meet with Solon before we breach Warp space,” Twilight explained. “You can come with me if you’d like, but I have to warn you it’s not very… nice in there.”

“Not nice as in shrouded with foul-smelling smoke, or not nice as in crew and bystanders die frequent, gruesome deaths?” Rarity asked as she started to disassemble her own armor.

“Somewhere in-between, I think.” Twilight looked up at the bunk room’s ceiling. “Also, that reminds me: if the wall or ceiling opens up to reveal a giant eyeball, do NOT panic. Everything is fine. Just ignore it for a little while and it’ll go away.”

The other mares gave her worried looks. “Ah kinda feel like that shoulda come up earlier, when ya were talkin’ about the ship to everypony,” Applejack mumbled.

“Yes, you have a point, but Tellis cut us short. Anyway, my point is that they’re scary, but harmless,” Twilight explained with a nod.

“Probably,” Spike added.

Twilight turned to glare at him, and the young dragon shrugged. “Look, Gaela’s told me stories, okay? There are LOT of people who just up and vanish around here!”

“I think I’ll let you girls get settled in,” Twilight grumbled, turning away from the doorway. “Come on, Spike.”

Twilight’s horn flashed as she approached her own quarters, and a purple glow surrounded her armor. After a few seconds the power armor winked away, and she raised a hoof to the ident-scanner next to the door.

“The servitor should be by soon to drop off our things,” Twilight said as the door slid open. “We just need to check… uh…”

Twilight trailed off in surprise. Spike groaned. On the side of the room, laying on the bed mounted on the wall, was a familiar stallion. A batpony, specifically. Boasting a licentious grin and a fresh red rose clenched tightly between his teeth.

“Hello, my Princess,” Dusk Blade purred, his tail lightly whipping against the mattress. “How may I service you?”

Spike started making choking noises. Twilight stared blankly at the other pony for several seconds, and then took a deep breath.

Her horn flashed purple, and after a burst of light surrounded her body she was wearing her power armor again.

“Wh-Whoa, wait. Hold on!” Dusk said nervously, taking the rose into the tip of one wing. “Did you not want any service? That’s fine! You can say no! Uh… do you want the flower, though? I didn’t hurt anyone to get it this time!”

“Dude,” Spike said, the single word exuding considerable disdain.

“What? You said to stop hiding in her room! I stopped! This is me stopping!” Dusk retorted, standing up.

“You’re STILL HERE!” the young dragon snapped.

“So what? You never said I have to stop showing up entirely! And really if I wasn’t going to reveal myself like this what difference does it make if I just hide away somewhere?”

“Lieutenant,” Twilight said calmly, interrupting his panicked argument, “follow me, please. You can leave the rose with Spike.”

She suddenly turned around and started walking down the hall. Spike seemed confused, but still took the flower when Dusk hopped down and trotted past him. The batpony quickly caught up with Twilight, and they silently walked down the hall.

The silence between the two continued as they walked. The ship was fairly busy, with groups of menials and servitors carrying things through the decks. The wasted, entrapped crew writhed and mumbled hysterically within the few alcoves in the area. A few other ponies walked along the halls in groups as well, either chatting amongst themselves or happily following some human.

To Dusk Blade, however, there was nothing else but the alicorn mare plodding alongside him. Granted, she was enclosed in a pressurized shell of hardened ceramite, armed, and hadn’t even taken her helmet off for this walk, but still. Simply being in Twilight’s presence lifted his spirits immeasurably. Also she hadn’t actually made any move to activate the force harmonizer, which he interpreted as a strong positive sign.

“… You know, I have to admit that when you first told me you liked me, I was kind of glad,” Twilight said suddenly. Dusk’s ears perked up as she continued. “I’d never been told that I was, well… attractive to anypony before then. Besides the shock of the confession, you’re also surprisingly smart and a prime physical specimen, technically speaking. Quite a few of my friends insisted I could do worse!”

“And you could, but you shouldn’t have to! Settling for a pony worse than me would just be embarrassing for a Princess,” Dusk said with a firm snort.

“Yes. Sure.” Twilight stopped, glancing back and forth along the hall. The left side contained the outer bulkhead, and this particular section was riddled with entry locks for savior pods. On the right side was some kind of holding facility conspicuously labeled “Kennels” in the noosphere tag and covered over with warning runes.

She turned around, popped her helmet’s seals, and then floated it off of her head. Twilight took a moment to shake her mane free of the armor gorget, and then regarded Dusk with a cold, irritated stare.

“I’m not glad anymore, Lieutenant,” the alicorn said bitterly. “In fact, this whole… arrangement, or relationship, or whatever you want to call your habit of stalking and hitting on me in-between random acts of cruelty, has just about reached the limits of my patience.”

Twilight’s expression tightened. “You’re a bad pony, Dusk. And it isn’t JUST that you’ve done bad things, but rather that you regard moral behavior as a thin façade you have to wear around civilized ponies. You’re not too dumb to know better, and you’re not a sociopath! You’re simply a poisonous, unrepentant soul who doesn’t think of anypony but himself!”

Her expression became even more heated as she noted the complete lack of reaction from the batpony. “And you know what? Maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world. Certainly the Company can make use of ponies who are clever and amoral! You’re good at breaking into places and killing people; who am I to demand you be more than that? But I will never, EVER… are you even listening to me?!”

Dusk seemed to snap out of a daze, and he shook his head. “Sorry about that. I was just… lost in your eyes. Didn’t hear a thing.” He gestured to the mare’s face, seemingly oblivious to her building temper. “I love the new optical augment, by the way. What pattern is that? It’s really sleek!”

“It’s not any particular pattern, I don’t think. I actually got it from-“ Twilight stopped and shook her head violently. “NO! Cut that out! I’m rejecting you! Stop making small talk!”

“Oh come on. I get that you don’t like me, but I’m really trying to do better now! I gave up slavery, got a friend of my own, and went on a series of calamitous misadventures to make myself look good in front of the Elements of Harmony!” Dusk sighed, his pointed ears flipping down. “I can change! Give me a real chance!”

“Once upon a time, I would have taken you up on that offer,” Twilight admitted. “Long ago, I probably would have made it a personal friendship mission of mine to teach and rehabilitate you. And then, assuming it worked, JUST MAYBE I would have considered actually being your special somepony.” Then her eye narrowed and her horn sparked. “But that’s not my job anymore. Your behavior isn’t my problem to solve, and if you can’t think of any reason to be a better pony other than having a chance of getting into my power armor it’s probably a doomed effort anyway. The answer is no.”

“That… It’s…” Dusk tripped over his words as he tried to reply, wilting under the alicorn’s steely glare. “Okay. Then… can we at least be… friends?”

He raised an upturned hoof toward the Princess, smiling nervously. Twilight stared at it for a few seconds, and then lifted a boot and pressed its adamantium tread against Dusk’s horseshoe.

Dusk brightened. Twilight’s horn flashed.

Dusk Blade materialized in a burst of purple light and stumbled backward in shock.

“What?! Where?! How?!" Glancing around, he saw he was in some sort of small enclosure. It was made to hold several people, judging by the seats built into the walls, with a single entry hatch on one side. It was also very dark inside, with the only light coming from a small window slit in the entry hatch, but that wasn’t much of an impediment for a batpony.

A beeping noise came from somewhere nearby, and then several lumens came on to light Dusk’s surroundings. He rushed up to the entry hatch to open it, only to see Twilight’s face appear behind the window slit.

“Hey! What is this?” the thestral demanded, slamming a hoof against the hatch.

“It’s a savior pod. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you weren’t on the fleet deployment roster,” Twilight grumbled. More beeping came from the devices within the pod, and a clunking noise announced that the hatch had locked. Twilight’s augmetic pulsed with light, feeding more data into the navigational cogitator. “The trajectory I uploaded should have you landing somewhere in the badlands. Hopefully you’ll end up close enough to Ferrous Dominus that you’re not late to your next shift.”

“What?! That…” Dusk was about to start pounding his hooves against the hatch, but hesitated. “That’s actually pretty helpful. I didn’t really have a plan for going back if my seduction attempt didn’t work out.”

“You’re welcome,” Twilight deadpanned.

She stepped back, and a loud buzzer went off before a bulkhead slammed into place in front of the hatch. The final safety locks disengaged, and after a moment the pod was shot into the void.

Twilight stared at the sealed bulkhead silently for over a minute after the pod was ejected, tracking the arc of the vessel down to the planet. It was actually quite difficult to program any kind of landing point using only her augmetic interface, even one targeting a planetary region as vast as the badlands. Whatever she thought of Dusk Blade – and she had a LOT of thoughts on Dusk Blade – she didn’t really want to be the one responsible for launching him into the middle of the ocean.

Finally satisfied that he wouldn’t land anywhere TOO hostile to equine life, Twilight disconnected from the datastream and turned around. She was surprised to see Spike walking down the hall toward her; he must have followed her shortly after she left her room.

“Hey Twi, the servitors brought the rest of your stuff so we’re free to head out if you still want to check out the bridge,” Spike explained while he approached. “Or you might want to hunt down Pinkie Pie and subdue her. I think she found one of those eyeballs in the bulkheads.”

“Yeah, no, I’m not touching that. I made her promise to stay out of the calefactor, that’s enough,” Twilight mumbled, turning around. “Let’s go to the bridge. I want to see if I can get some nav-data. The Company never did let us know where in the galaxy we’re going in our deployment order. Not that it makes much of a difference to us, but maybe they have a particular planet already picked out as a target.”

Spike nodded and followed along. “By the way… I know he’s a creep and all, but I’m glad you didn’t teleport Dusk into the kennels.”

“Say no more,” Twilight mumbled. Then, after a few seconds, she craned her head back toward her assistant. “I mean that seriously, by the way. Never mention him again unless it’s to warn me that he’s back.”

Spike silently pressed a claw against his cheek, and then drew it across his lips while making a “zzzzzip” sound.

Harvest of Steel – bridge

“And our special guests have arrived at last. We are about ready to depart, then?”

Twilight grimaced as she entered the bridge. It was a disturbing place at the best of times, but she was particularly worried to see Serith standing at Solon’s side. The Sorcerer and the Warsmith himself were the only individuals here that she recognized; evidently Vice-Commander Sliver was working elsewhere.

“Hello, Lord Serith,” Twilight said warily. “I didn’t think you’d be coming with us. Don’t you have to manage the Nethalican?”

“You needn’t worry about our precious temple, Lady Sparkle,” Serith chuckled. “I’ve taught the secrets of its operation to the unicorns of the cabal and sent a crew to watch over it. I couldn’t bear to miss the excitement of your very first pirate raid!”

While Twilight was wondering how worried she should be, Solon swiveled his body around toward the Princess and her attendant. “Sherith washn’t going to come at all, actually. But apparently Missh Trixie wanted to come along sho they took a shuttle here before the fleet wash asshembled.”

Spike blinked in surprise. “Trixie? Why would Trixie want to come along on a pirate raid?”

“For the thrill of adventure and the exploration of the great unknown, surely,” Serith mused aloud. “If nothing else, it was a useful opportunity to leave the bleak crowds and sweltering industries of Ferrous Dominus. She confided to me that the city is quite dull when the streets aren’t full of rampaging Orks.”

“The Harvest of Steel speaks!” From one of more than a dozen alcoves placed along the walls, a withered man with his body wrapped in cloth and cabling began to writhe and shout. “It welcomes the Purple One! The pact is complete! The maker returned!”

“Yes, fine, we went over that on the way back. You’re welcome.” Twilight said with a sigh.

“The Harvest just wants you to know,” moaned a woman on the other side of the bridge. “She’s very satisfied you are within, and no longer hungers for your demise.”

“Great. Thanks.” The mare’s ears flattened against her head. All the Warpsmiths were staring at her now, obviously annoyed at the disruption. “Let her know I’m… uh… glad to be here,” she mumbled unconvincingly.

“Awwwwwwwwww,” came the tortured choir of voices from the entombed crew.

“If that’sh all, we should begin the transhlation to Warp shpace,” Solon interrupted, swiveling back to the main control panel.

“All vessels are moving into breach formation,” announced a Warpsmith. “All augurs are clear. Navigation calculated.”

“The Warp sings!” gasped another crew mummy in a delirious stupor. “The tides shift to speed us on our journey! Deliverance at last! Sweet carnage!”

Solon poked at his console, and the entire hull trembled slightly underfoot. “Activating Warp enginesh. Empyrean breach in three. Two. One…”

Twilight watched intently at the holoscreens at the front of the bridge. A crackling spike of plasma rapidly expanded, as if poking a hole into the void and then peeling it open further. An explosion of color filled the emptiness before the fleet, spilling into realspace from the unfathomable ocean beyond.

“… Still rainbow-colored, I see,” Serith said after a moment.

“Yesh, it ish,” Solon grumbled. “It doeshn’t sheem to have any sherioush effect, at leasht, but I wish you’d come up with a working theory for thish.”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t begin to imagine the cause, Lord,” Serith said sadly, turning his helmet to stare at Twilight.

“Warp exit has reached optimal circumference,” growled a Warpsmith. “Accelerating to maximum sub-light speed.”

“Hmm? Engines are unresponsive. What’s wrong?” demanded another, leaning closer to his own console screen.

“The Harvest… hesitates,” one of the entombed crew admitted, sounding puzzled.

Another one shrieked. “Something stirs! A disruption from within! AAAAAAAAAUGH!”

A cracking noise came from the ceiling. The web of cabling, pipes, and wires split apart along a jagged line, yawning open like a predator’s jaws and bending the surrounding metal as if it were flesh.

It convulsed with an indescribable wet sound, and then Pinkie Pie dropped out onto the floor amidst a blast of confetti.

The opening quickly closed again, vanishing back under the mesh of components while the bubbly pony lay on the deck blinking.

“… Huh. The Harvest is better now,” mumbled the crewman from before.

“You may proceed with Warp entry,” Solon advised the other Iron Warriors.

“Right. Yes. As I said, accelerating to maximum sub-light speed,” the Warpsmith said again, shaking his head and tapping his console.

As the floor started to tremble from the motion, Pinkie rolled upright to face Twilight and Spike with a characteristically huge grin. “Twilight! You’ll never guess where I’ve been!”

“Nobody cares,” Serith said flatly.

“I care a little bit,” Spike admitted.

“I’m extremely curious but also terrified at what the answer could be,” Twilight said, “so let’s just save this conversation for later, okay?”

The Harvest of Steel rocketed forward into the colorful miasma of the Warp, its bulk eventually swallowed by the swirling, prismatic wisps. The rest of the freighters and escort vessels followed, diving into the ocean of nightmares before the tear in realspace finally sealed shut.

The hunt had begun again, at last.

Author's Note

This has been a while in coming! I'm already well into the second chapter, but I don't expect I'll have it before 2020. Have a merry Christmas and a happy new year!

Lightning Strike

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 2
Lightning Strike

Harvest of Steel – unknown deck

Twilight Sparkle galloped through the halls of the flagship, her breath heaving and sweat dribbling down her neck.

The sound of her hooves banging against the deck echoed through the halls. They were utterly empty, with no other sound but the soft hum of cogitators and the overhead lumens. Every door was closed, secured behind a magnetic lock and a bright red indicator lumen.

Locked. Locked. Every door, locked.

Twilight became more frantic, and her horn flickered. She could teleport! Locks couldn’t stop her! But to where? Why?

A freezing wind blasted through the hall, and she felt a cold shock like a row of icicles had pierced her spine. Twilight tripped gracelessly as her legs seemed to turn to rubber, and she bounced along the empty metal halls before slowly rolling to a stop on her side.

“HELLO?!” Twilight shouted desperately, her voice echoing back. “THERE MUST BE SOMEONE HERE!! I CAN’T BE ALONE, THE SHIP ITSELF IS ALIVE THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE!!”

The lumens buzzed and flickered, and Twilight groaned and curled up her legs. “Not this again… Why won’t they stop? What do they want?”

The light went out entirely, and almost immediately Twilight heard new sounds: heavy, tortured breaths. Gasps for air, like someone that had just emerged from the water. Pained wheezes from long-abused organs. Rapid huffing on the verge of exhaustion.

“What… What now?” the alicorn whimpered, fearfully igniting her horn to light her surroundings.

Twilight gasped in shock and her eyes bulged. She was no longer in a hall but in a small, circular room. The floor was utterly bare, and the ceiling unremarkable, but in the walls were the grotesque alcoves overrun with cabling and wires where the desiccated “crew” of the Harvest of Steel oversaw their endless labors. But in these alcoves it was not nameless, unfamiliar humans that had been entombed. Her best friends, the other Elements of Harmony, were trapped under the cruel metal hooks and cable loops. The ponies stared down at her, unblinking, their bodies riddled with sockets and dried scars.

Also Trixie was there too, for some reason.

“You… They… NO!!” Twilight sobbed, tears dribbling down her cheeks. “How could they?! Why?! Why did this happen to you?! What did-“

“Whoa, whoa, calm down there, Princess of Drama,” Rainbow Dash said. Her wings’ feathers were gone, replaced by webs of wires that spread across the alcove interior and plugged into the walls. “Relax. We’re fine!”

“F-Fine?” Twilight stuttered, feeling sick to her stomach.

“No, we’re NOT fine! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get any moisturizer around here?! This is terrible for my coat!” Half of Rarity’s body, cut almost straight down the middle, seemed to be a blackened mess riddled with sockets and wires, while the other half was very nearly pristine. “Also the servitors are TERRIBLE at brushing! A little help, darling?”

Twilight stared for a few awkward seconds, and then rubbed the tears out of her face. “You… uh… Wh-What’s going on here?”

“Pretty much what it looks like!” Pinkie Pie chirped. “It’s not that bad, though! The Harvest is actually really interesting, and knows a ton of jokes!” Pinkie’s body was chained firmly to her alcove, and a metal cuff was secured tightly around her head and mouth, partially muffling her speech. “Plus we get immortality!”

“You…… really? You’re immortal now?” Twilight felt the last traces of panic leave her body and she sat up straight.

“Well, maybe. They promised we wouldn’t die of old age, but I warned everypony that sounded extremely suspect,” Rarity grumbled.

“Huh. Is that why you agreed to this, Trixie?” Twilight asked.

“I’m actually Chrysalis,” the blue unicorn replied curtly. “I’m just filling in for Trixie while she takes a personal day.” Most of the tubes in her alcove ran up into Trixie’s hat, with the notable exception of a thick, sparking cable that was plugged into her horn, somehow.

Twilight was more confused than ever now, glancing from one mutilated pony to the next. “Okay, hold on, was this voluntary or not? Let’s start there.”

“I was bullied into it, as usual,” Fluttershy whimpered, tugging uncomfortably at the heavy cabling plugged in where her wings used to be.

“Ah wasn’t,” Applejack grunted. She was partially suspended upright in her alcove from several wires and chains wrapped around her forelegs and belly, and had a thick central tube running down from the ceiling directly into the top of her hat. “Since Ah joined the crew, apple production has increased bah 729%!”

“Increased by what? Applejack, the Harvest of Steel doesn’t produce apples!” Twilight pointed out.

“It didn’t before, but then they plugged me in to increase efficiency!” Applejack said proudly.

Twilight slapped a hoof against her face. “Applejack, you can’t increase efficiency for production that doesn’t exist! There’s no way for the Harvest to host an apple orchard! We’re not producing apples!”

The farmer looked skeptical. “But… it went up by 729%. They had charts ‘n everythin’.”

“Zero increased by seven hundred and whatever percent is still zero!” Twilight shouted, slamming her hoof on the deck for emphasis.

Rarity grimaced at Applejack’s shocked expression. “Well, I guess somepony had to tell her…”

“YOU KNEW?!” the orange pony shouted while sparks started blasting from her wiring. “Y’ALL KNEW AND NONE OF YA TOLD ME?!”

“We wanted to, but, well… you just seemed so HAPPY about it,” Rainbow mumbled, cringing.

“WELL AH AIN’T HAPPY NOW, DASH!!”

“Please stop yelling, it makes the monster ship upset,” Fluttershy whimpered.

“Okay, look, I’m still not clear how you all ended up like this, but it seems there was some coercion and misdirection involved,” Twilight said, sighing.

“I wasn’t coerced or tricked,” Chrysalis interjected, raising an azure hoof.

“I was talking to my friends!” Twilight snapped at the changeling. “Although I should probably get Trixie out of this too, come to think of it. Mostly because I’m afraid of how her obsessive egotism might affect the ship functions.”

“BEEEEP!! BEEEEP!! BEEEEP!!” Pinkie Pie’s metal gag popped off, and she started shouting in a way strangely reminiscent of an obnoxious alarm.

Twilight cringed, feeling her vision go fuzzy from the sound. “Pinkie! Stop that… I… I can’t…”

Harvest of Steel
Deck C-13 – Twilight Sparkle’s quarters

“Buh!” Twilight flailed her hooves clumsily as she woke up, the blaring of the cogitator alarm ringing in her ears and the sterile glare of the ceiling lumens blinding her remaining eye.

Her optical turned on, and half her vision was filled with indecipherable data-screed while the other half was an indistinct blur of light. After a few seconds both sides recovered, and Twilight could finally see that she was on her bunk within her quarters.

A yawn came from below, and Spike hopped off the lower bunk and onto the floor. “Morning, Twilight.” He waddled over to the cogitator and slapped a big green button, turning off the buzzing alarm. “Were your dreams any better last night?”

Twilight remained on the top bunk, grimacing as she went through the strange and fleeting memories. “Uh… kind of. I mean, it was pretty terrible but not nearly as… intense as before.” She gave each wing a stretch before hopping down to the floor. “The others say it hasn’t been too bad either. This feels like a trend to me. Either I’m getting used to whatever was giving me nightmares, or…”

Spike waited for her to finish. “Or…?”

“Or it’s something else,” Twilight said with a helpless shrug. “I mean, the cause and effect is pretty fuzzy, here. There’s a lot of ways to cause nightmares. Anyway, let’s see what we have for today.”

She turned to the cogitator, and her horn flickered, leading a gentle wisp of purple over the console buttons. When she brought up the schedule, she blinked in surprise. “What? We’re scheduled for realspace translation today!”

“Already? We’ve only been out three days,” Spike murmured. “Does that mean you have a mission today?”

“Maybe. There isn’t much else here. I have orders to attend a briefing, though.” The screen shifted, displaying a star chart and zooming in on a particular star. “Ghessheim, huh? Six primary stellar bodies, one colonized world, one extraplanetary mining facility, two major orbital waystations.” She tapped the colony world on the screen, and new information appeared around it for her to peruse. “Wait… TWO colonized worlds. Kind of. Apparently the colony’s moon also hosts a settlement.”

“Is it a prison, like ours?” Spike asked.

“Our moon is NOT a prison. We just exiled somepony there one time!” Twilight corrected him. “And no, since you asked. If anything it’s the opposite. It says the governor’s palace is on the moon.”

“Maybe they don’t like the governor,” Spike mused.

“Rather it seems like their moon is really nice! The atmosphere is supposedly robust and there’s a strong magnetic field and an abundance of native flora. But hopefully we’ll find out more at the briefing.” Twilight jabbed a wing forward, swiping a feather across the screen to turn it off. “Come on, Spike. Let’s see what the galaxy has in store for us today…”

Harvest of Steel
Deck C-11 – communal juncture

Twilight trotted into the room through a sparse crowd of curious ponies with Spike riding on her back. She spotted her friends almost immediately, each of them already wearing their power armor with their helmets detached or disengaged. Pinkie Pie sat next to them, and next to her was a large plate piled high with doughnuts.

This part of the ship wasn’t a formal briefing room, as the humans and equines apparently weren’t given extended briefings that required dedicated areas. Instead they were funneled into a hallway intersection that had been expanded into a large room. Bleacher-like slats of metal were stacked up next to the walls, while the hallway paths crossed underneath a large hololith projector on the ceiling. Numerous mercenaries and Equestrians were already here, most of them grouped up and eating breakfast.

“Twilight! Twilight, over here!” Pinkie waved a hoof to their squad leader, pointing energetically to the doughnut pile next to her. “Looky! Looky! I have doughnuts!”

“Yes Pinkie, I can see that. Thank you.” Twilight sat down at the end of the row of power-armored mares, and Spike hopped off to sit next to her. “Where did you get doughnuts, anyway?”

“Oh, we have a bakery now,” Rainbow Dash said.

“We… We do? Really?” Twilight was surprised, obviously. She had been surprised when bakeries appeared in Ferrous Dominus, but the city-fortress was at least a city; despite the proliferation of arcane evil and industrial blight it was still expected to provide a city’s services to its residents. She’d assumed life on a void ship would be more regimented and spartan.

“Most of the raw materials came from Delgan, of course. They transferred the supplies before we set out,” Rarity said with satisfied smirk. “Cookies and Cream managed to get ahold of a plasma furnace somewhere around here and they’ve been baking up a storm ever since.”

“So when Dash says ‘bakery’ it’s more like a tin shack in the underdeck,” Applejack added. “Still, Ah appreciate the spirit! Makes me wanna take along a few bushels o’ apples and bake some pies next time ‘round!”

“I appreciate the doughnuts!” Pinkie squeaked before shoving one such ring into her mouth.

A familiar figure stomped into the junction, and Twilight perked up immediately when she recognized Gaela. She leapt down to the floor and rushed to the Dark Techpriest, shouting a greeting on her approach.

“I have arrived to facilitate your mission briefing,” Gaela said, as coldly professional as ever. “Ordinarily this duty would be carried out by an officer or an Iron Warrior, but by now it has become the prevailing assumption among the entire army that I’m some sort of pony liaison.”

Pinkie Pie jumped onto her from behind, clambering up the various servo limbs until she could climb onto the Techpriest’s shoulder pads. She started to purr like a cat, nuzzling against the cyborg cultist’s cheek.

“… Well, we do like you a lot,” Twilight offered, flushing slightly.

“I’m thrilled,” Gaela replied, not sounding thrilled at all. She walked past the Equinoughts and up to the wide open space in the middle of the room. With a glance, the lumens darkened and the hololith projector on the ceiling turned on.

“Our target system is Ghessheim. We will be translating into realspace within the hour,” Gaela announced, jumping right into the briefing. The last few pockets of hushed conversation were silenced, and everyone in the junction gave their full attention to the display that appeared above the Techpriest.

The hololith displayed a central star, and then zoomed out and to one side, showing the system’s planets stacked in a neat line in their orbital rings. Most of the planets vanished a moment later, leaving only two remaining. One was a large planet riddled with wide faults in its topography visible even in this projection, with several huge metal spike-like structures mounted within them. The other was a smaller, more verdant world, with its surface a vast sphere of blue with small patches of green and gray. Around that world were two satellites: One was the planet’s own moon, a jewel of rich green forests and blue seas. The second was clearly a space station with a great many enormous smokestacks mounted on top.

“Behold, Ghessheim IV and V. One, an extra-planetary mine manned by prisoners taken from the other, which most would consider a verdant hive world,” Gaela explained, pointing a metal claw to the fourth planet and then the fifth.

“OOH! OOH! What about the moon?! That moon is so pretty! Can we go to the moon?!” Pinkie asked, beating a hoof against her shoulder plate.

A servo arm clamped onto her tail and pulled sharply, yanking her onto the floor.

“The moon, designated Ulaisse, is the site of the system’s capital, its seat of governance, and its most formidable defenses. You will NOT be going there,” Gaela offered curtly. “The battle plans for the full extent of the raid have not yet been finalized, but assaulting the system seat would be costly and is unnecessary. Our initial fleet action will be focused here.”

The Dark Techpriest waved an arm, and the hololith zoomed in on the space station, pushing the planets out of sight. “This is the primary orbital relay and the grand refinery Eschel. It serves as a repair station for local fleets, a transport link for inter-system trade, and a massive off-world smelting hub for the ore produced on the third planet. A perfect target… if not for its bombardment cannons holding constant vigil.”

The hololith highlighted the numerous turrets placed over the top and bottom of the space station. “These weapons represent a critical threat to our fleet operations. In conjunction with a local patrol flotilla used to drive off pirates, they possess the raw firepower to defeat us in a proper fleet engagement. As such, the upcoming assault will be decidedly… improper.”

Sections of the hololith started lighting up. “Surprise is crucial. The fleet will slowly advance on the station and negotiate docking. Rather than trying to route troops through the airlock, however, we’ll deploy a series of coordinated boarding assaults once we’re close enough and overwhelm the station’s defenses. The key objective in the assault is shutting down the station’s weapon systems before the defense flotilla can move to engage the fleet. Without the station’s support, the flotilla shouldn’t be a threat before the might of our flagship.”

The hololith again zoomed in on the station, and a particular disc-shaped section lit up. “This is where your teams will be making your attack. Your orders are to secure the area and establish a perimeter before awaiting further orders.”

“That’s it? What’s that part of the station for?” Rainbow asked.

“Refined metals storage and off-loading,” Gaela said with a shrug. “I imagine there are other supply and storage facilities in the area, but our records are ripped from old Imperial logs and likely outdated.”

“Why are we attacking there? I thought the point of the assault was to knock out their weapons?” Lightning Dust asked, sounding annoyed.

“The point of the assault is to completely overwhelm the station’s defenses and ultimately occupy it,” Gaela corrected. “In doing so, we’re launching attacks on both vital and non-vital targets. This will force the enemy to spread their internal response thin and cut off their lines of reinforcement. It also ensures the interior is well pacified when we begin plundering the facility. Other assault teams will be responsible for the primary objective of crippling the weapons systems and reactor core.”

With a gesture, the hololith zoomed out again to the planetary display, showing the fourth and fifth planets with clusters of data tags. “This concludes your mission briefing for phase one of this operation. Any questions?”

Pinkie Pie started jumping up and down, flailing one foreleg in the air wildly.

“No,” the Dark Techpriest replied.

“’No’ as in ‘no I’m not taking your question’ or ‘the answer to your question that you haven’t asked yet is no’?” Pinkie asked.

“Yes. Any other queries?” Gaela asked.

“Isn’t Equinought Squadron going to be sent on some super-important near-suicidal space mission?” Rainbow Dash asked, sounding a bit disappointed. “Doesn’t Solon even care about getting Rarity killed in action anymore?”

While Rarity looked duly offended, Gaela responded with her usual bland accuracy. “While you may be given such a task as the attack proceeds and our strategy evolves, the objectives identified thus far are insufficiently lethal to warrant your assignment.” Then she gestured toward the ceiling again with a claw.

The hololith winked out, and the lumens above the junction brightened again. “We are expecting to exit Warp space very soon. May the Dark Gods favor you and the pawns of the False Emperor falter before us.”

“Iron within. Iron without,” intoned several of the human mercenaries. Most of the ponies seemed surprised at the sudden prayer, with the notable exception of Phage Squadron. They and a few unicorns wearing dark hoods chanted in perfect sync with their bipedal allies. Then they began to disperse, turning away from the center of the junction and returning to their earlier activities.

“Lame! I can’t believe that we’re going to be fighting dock workers over a bunch of rocks instead of making an all-or-nothing sprint for the control center or something!” Rainbow Dash complained. “We have experience with boarding missions too! Why wouldn’t they send us after the munitorium or something?”

“Rainbow, darling, are you really trying to help the Warsmith get me killed?” Rarity asked, glaring at the pegasus. “We have a simple mission of middling importance and expect limited resistance. I, for one, am thrilled at the prospect. And human opponents, too! For at least one battle we won’t have to contend with snarling, extra-dimensional monstrosities, giant over-armed battlesuits, or lumbering savages too thick to fear death!”

“Yeah, Ah hear ya. Ah ain’t too psyched ‘bout fightin’ humans, though,” Applejack admitted with a sigh. “These folk ain’t done us wrong. But this’s what we signed up fer.”

“We don’t have to actually kill them, right? Can’t we just, uh, subdue them?” Fluttershy asked nervously.

“Yeah, that’s true! We can make all kinds of new friends!” Pinkie chirped, bouncing up and down and grinning.

“I don’t think they’ll be too happy about being captured rather than killed, either,” Twilight warned, grimacing. “Chaos isn’t good to its prisoners, and this vessel literally runs on captives. But… well, both Gaela and Dest were originally Imperial soldiers at some point, so maybe it really COULD happen.”

Applejack looked like she was going to reply to that, but a deep rumble filled the hull and the deck started to quiver. Rarity, Twilight, and several other unicorns all winced, simultaneously feeling a cold tingle through their horns for no obvious reason.

“All hands, prepare for Warp exit! Crews to your battle stations! Assault units, suit up and proceed to your deployment area!” barked a voice from the vox caster.

“That sounds like us,” Applejack drawled. Her helmet started moving, shifting the jaw plates into place under her muzzle before the upper part extended from her armor’s cowl. A gentle toss of her head bounced her hat up before the pieces slid into place and locked together, and the Stetson landed atop the thickened ceramite shielding. The visor turned on, and the lenses pulsed a bright crimson.

The other mares attached or engaged their helmets, and Twilight summoned her power armor with a shimmering wave of violet magic. As Twilight was preparing to see Spike off she saw that Phage Squadron was approaching with Poison Kiss, the squad leader, at the front.

“Pardon me, Princess Sparkle, but I don’t suppose you know where the good Queen Chrysalis is, do you?” the unicorn asked. Her helmet was also fully enclosed, but the others could hear the grimace in her tone. “We haven’t seen her since we boarded. Which isn’t greatly surprising, seeing as the smarmy hag could be strolling about as any one of us.”

Twilight glanced about the room and ident-tags appeared in her visor readout, listing the names of everyone as she looked at them. “She’s not in here, I think. I imagine that if she’s taking part in the assault she’ll have a special role rather than being part of an attack team.”

“How do we know YOU’RE not Chrysalis?” Breezy demanded, her wings spreading threateningly. “Who better to replace than the highest-ranking pony on deployment?!”

“Would y’all give it a rest? Chrysalis ain’t that good a spah. We’d be able to tell if she was replacin’ a good friend o’ ours,” Applejack retorted, stepping up next to the Princess.

“Besides, I’ve been with her since she woke up. Chrysalis hasn’t shown her face around our deck since we boarded.” Spike slapped his hand against Twilight’s shoulder pad, nodding sharply.

“Okay, okay, we believe you,” Kiss said quickly, shooting a glare at Breezy Blight. “We’ve just been a little shirty knowing that she’s aboard. Sorry.”

“Your fear isn’t entirely unwarranted, but she’s been under surveillance since arrival.” Gaela, who hadn’t actually left since she finished the presentation, chimed in from behind the Nurgle cultists. “Queen Chrysalis is currently being taken to the bridge to be given a personal briefing. As Sparkle said, her unique abilities warrant a specialized role in the assault.”

“The bridge, eh? Well that’s… only slightly more encouraging than having her snooping about the bunks,” Kiss mumbled.

“Yo! You guys coming?” Rainbow Dash and Pinkie were at the junction’s exit, with the former shouting and the latter waving at them. “C’mon everypony! It’s pirate time!” A slight shimmer in the air betrayed Fluttershy’s presence too as they started trotting away.

“Good luck in the upcoming mission, Sparkle,” Kiss said while she turned around. “I know we don’t always see eye-to-eye off the battlefield, but I hope the Dark Gods favor you.”

Then she whirled around to face her own team, as well as the other ponies watching the encounter. “All right you bums! Stop waffling about and get to your boarding pods and tendril docks! The cycle is young and Nurgle demands his tribute of rot and despair! Move, move, move!”

Harvest of Steel
Bridge

“Ugh, so this is what the lunatic meant when he said there were two of you. You could have warned me ahead of time.”

Chrysalis gagged as she stepped into the bridge, and her eyes narrowed at a massive figure in filthy, rusted terminator armor. Sliver only briefly paid the changeling any attention, and then turned his glowering eye lens on the spread of displays at the front. Solon was standing right beneath them, his servo limbs and actual limbs jabbing rapidly at the holoscreen around him.

“Ah, good! You’re here! It’sh almosht time for your firsht misshion!” Solon said brightly. “We’ll be launching a shurprishe asshault on the planet’sh orbital fortressh shoon.”

One of the ship’s scopes zoomed in on the space station Eschel, and Chrysalis arched an eyebrow. “It’s… big. As big as Ferrous Dominus itself.”

“Shignificantly larger, in fact,” Solon corrected. “We’re going to take it.”

“Thosse gunss will be a problem should they remain active,” Sliver said, his voice a deep rumble through the sludge in his vox. “We will desstroy them individually, but that will take time. You will dissable them for uss,” he hefted his hammer and pointed its head at Chrysalis.

“Sounds like fun,” Chrysalis mused, baring her fangs. “Shall I do it sneaky-like, or do you want me to try out more of those ‘warforms’ of yours?”

“Ideally, firsht one, then the other.” Solon pointed at the changeling queen. “Dishengage Nemeshish Lock. Authorization zero.”

Her wings quivered in delight as she felt her core start to speed up, delivering currents of raw Warp energy straight into her veins. Images started flashing before her, offering glimpses of mechanical bodies of terrifying power.

Naturally, she felt a sudden urge to take on one such body immediately, here in the bridge. Even if she felt no particular desire to try murdering the Iron Warriors here and now, it would have at least been nice to tower over the smelly one-eyed Astartes rather than the other way around. Ultimately she relented, though; there was no need to antagonize her new allies yet.

“Lord Warsmith, we’ve been contacted by the system patrol fleet,” said a Warpsmith standing at one side of the bridge. “They seem to have accepted our registratum codex as genuine and are requesting a manifest before allowing us leave to approach. They seem quite interested in where we came from… Not just our origin point, but our last dozen system transfers.”

Sliver turned his head. “Do they ssusspect anything?”

“Hmmm… No. I believe they’re simply on heightened alert.” The Warpsmith swiped a grimy, oily finger across the hololith, banishing one data feed and opening another. “There should be no issue, no matter how closely they want to parse the logs. We only have to maintain our deception until we’re in boarding range, after all.”

“The Harvest hungers,” interrupted one of the entombed crew with a growl. “Wounded prey lies ahead.”

This took some of the Iron Warriors by surprise, and Solon craned his neck to look at the gigantic eye set in the ceiling. “What do you shee? Show me your quarry.”

The scopes lost focus, shifting away from the front of the station in wild, erratic loops. Eventually they slowed and converged on one side of the fortress, tracking along a long metal spar. Anchored at the end of the spar was a ship. A rather large ship, boasting an impressive series of macro cannon batteries along its flank.

“That’sh a grand cruisher!” Solon exclaimed, bringing up several new data displays. “That’sh not part of the shyshtem fleet, ish it?”

“It doesn’t seem so, Warsmith. It’s reactor is cold, which is why we didn’t pick it up right away.”

“She’s badly damaged. Her engine block has been mostly shredded apart. Still… the batteries are certainly intact.”

“Why is she not in the repair docks? That’s an emergency anchor point. What are they doing?”

Chrysalis impatiently glanced between Solon and Sliver while the other Astartes discussed the issue. “Is this a problem? Our ship is bigger, isn’t it?”

Sliver meditated on the issue for a few seconds before turning to his Warsmith. “It will not be a problem. In itss current sstate it will not be able to join the combat in time to make a decissive difference, if it is even crewed at all.”

“The Harvest hungers!” bellowed the withered crewmen. “She is fascinated… She wishes to FEED.”

“That’sh a bit too much ship for you to choke down, my dear,” Solon chuckled. “But perhapsh we can do shomething about it after all.”

“I’d rather not divert much manpower to boarding it before we’ve sseized Eschel,” Sliver hissed. “If it becomess active, then we’ll attack it directly.”

“I’d like to shee itsh archivesh. Thoshe hull breachesh look intereshting to me. We can enshure it shtaysh out of action while we’re at it.” He swiveled to face Sliver. “One shquad should be fine, don’t you think?”

The Chaos Lords stared at each other for several long seconds. Chrysalis glanced back and forth between them, uncomprehending, as did the giant eyeball in the ceiling.

“As you wish, Warssmith,” Sliver finally said. “We cannot alter our approach to get the grand cruisser within the range of the asssault tendrilss, but with itss void shieldss down our teleporter will do.”

“Excellent! Proceed with the attack.” Solon started scuttling toward the rear of the bridge. “I’ll make the necesshary arrangementsh.”

“Of coursse, Lord Warssmith,” Sliver mumbled, returning to his tactical hololiths. “Queen. Come closser. We musst disscusss your targetss.”

“We’re being… re-directed? Where?”

Twilight and the other Equinoughts were clustered in the Dreadnought berths, waiting for Pinkie Pie to clamber into her walker. The area was dimly lit and mostly quite macabre, with skulls and daemonic reliefs in every wall among the vein-like tubes and wiring. It contrasted rather sharply with Pinkie’s actual Dreadnought bay, which had clusters of balloons tied to the various chains and hooks on the wall and a motivational poster featuring a cat hanging by a tree branch.

“To the grand cruisher… what wash the name… Blesshed Redemption. It’sh in berth behind the shtation, and we weren’t expecting a ship of itsh massh to be involved in thish engagement. You will be teleporting inshide it to enshure that it will not be,” explained Solon over the vox. “We can’t divert any additional shquadsh for thish misshion, sho you will be taking care of it on your own.”

“YES! This is exactly what I’m talking about!” Rainbow Dash cheered, jumping up in glee. “A single-squad mission to take out a space ship! It’s PERFECT!”

None of the other mares seemed nearly as pleased, and Rarity quickly opened up her channel to speak. “What kind of resistance are we expecting to face on this mission, exactly?”

“Very little. Perhapsh none!” Solon laughed. “The vesshel’sh reactor ish cold; it’sh crew ish likely on the shtation or planetshide. They’re not expecting an attack. Any reshishtance you meet should be deshperate and feeble.”

“Oh.” Rainbow became considerably less excited, her visor dimming.

“Should be? So we don’t know for sure?” Rarity asked, skeptical.

“Would you rather attack with the main force that will be facing hundredsh of dedicated defenshe crewsh?”

“We-We’re not saying that!” Fluttershy assured the Warsmith. “We’re just, uhm, concerned about having no other help going into the ship.”

“You don’t need to shieze the vesshel, or even shweep the interior. I merely want you to shteal it’sh primary datashtacksh and shabotage the reactor. Then you may hold poshition until you’re extracted.” Solon paused briefly, and then data inload feeds appeared over the Equinoughts’ visors. “You’ll need a Techpriesht, of courshe, sho Gaela will accompany you. She’ll meet you at the teleportarium.”

“Okay!” Twilight said brightly, suddenly much happier about the new objective. “We won’t let you down, Warsmith!”

“Good. Proceed at once. We’ll be in poshition shoon.” The vox link cut off.

“Okay, so maybe it’s not the most important or action-packed mission, but at least it’s special,” Rainbow grumbled.

“I’m not thrilled to be sent off on our own again – as ever Solon seems quick to separate us from his enormous army of trained killers and nigh-invincible supermen – but I do like the part where the vessel will probably be abandoned,” Rarity added.

“Ah wouldn’t bet on it,” Applejack grumbled. “They ain’t sure what this heap is doin’ here, right? Ah reckon if’n they haven’t figured that out, there’s probably somethin’ weird and dangerous inside.”

The whir of massive gears announced that Pinkie Pie had finished whatever absurd process she used to activate the Contemptor Dreadnought, and the massive walker took its first heavy step out of its bay. “Off to the teleporter room, then! Maybe there’ll be something cool inside the enemy ship!” Pinkie, as ever, sounded extremely excited to set out.

“Let’s go everypony! We could be in position any minute now!” Twilight commanded, galloping down the hall. The rest of her squad followed, the heavy clang of armored boots ringing through the dark halls of the Harvest.

Space Station Eschel
Command center

“That’s quite an impressive trading fleet. And who are they, exactly?”

“Zellenis Merchant Association. Some kind of operation run out of Sevrill in the Sector Solar.”

“They’re an awful long way from home, aren’t they?”

“That’s the nature of fleets this size. Their logs check out.”

“And they’ve been nowhere near Arghost? Or Nikkalus?”

“Correct. Not within the last ten standard years, it looks like.”

The Director Primus of space station Eschel watched in fascinated silence as the trading fleet slowly floated past the system patrol ships running close-range scans of the newcomers. It was unusual to find a convoy fleet of this size that wasn’t chartered by the Administratum or Departmento Munitorium, if only because void travel was dangerous enough that having so many ships traveling together invited catastrophe that few other entities could afford the risk. The odd lost freighter was a harsh but manageable loss; any corporation, merchant family, or planetary government that lost an entire flotilla of them plus a megafreighter would be destitute.

“This is fortuitous,” said the Director’s aide, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. “With the loss of Arghost our output capacity far exceeds our current sales. The forge world Archaeus can surely ramp up their own purchases, but it will take time to expand their logistical capacity to take the excess material and put it to use. We can sell the excess stock to these traders.”

“What excess stock?” asked another advisor. “We still have a contract shipment to Arghost. We owe them that material. We’re not going to sell supplies that have already been purchased, are we?”

“Do you really think we’re going to ship supplies directly into the teeth of a Tyranid incursion?” she countered sharply. “The Imperial warfleets can’t guarantee the safety of our convoy if we approach orbit, much less if we attempt to make landing planetside. The world is completely infested. Attempting to deliver it now would be negligence bordering on malpractice.”

“So in response to a xeno invasion, we’re going to starve the target – a loyal Imperial customer! – of their supplies?!”

“The lives of our crews come second, right after our bottom line. Neither of them benefit from carrying fresh material into the jaws of the alien. The defense crews of Arghost come… later.”

“That’s enough of your squabbling,” grumbled the Director. Once his underlings silently turned to face him again, the elderly man drew a long breath. “Have the incoming fleet berthed and resupplied as necessary. I will inform the Governor and confer with him as to what portion of our primary stock is for sale.”

He pushed himself up off of his chair and then started plodding toward the exit. “Also, offer to have our visitors’ ships swept by enforcer teams. There’s no reason to suspect they’re carrying hostile organisms, but we ARE on heightened alert.”

“Valley Nostrus, adjust your heading according to our transmitted relay points,” directed a technician at the edge of the command center. “Your approach angle is too shallow.”

The Director paused briefly to listen to the request before ignoring it. “Once they have docked, ensure that the Captain and any merchant liaison has proper accommodations planetside. I imagine they came for more than metal.”

“Director,” another technician interrupted, “we don’t have sufficient docking facilities for the megafreighter and its attendant vessels to be served at once. Our anchor spars could accommodate them, but…” she trailed off uncomfortably.

The Director sighed. “Of course. Warn them that the Blessed Redemption is in quarantine protocol Beta. The adjacent spars are restricted. In fact, they should give the grand cruiser a very wide berth so long as they’re in-system. They may feel free to take up high orbit and arrange their own landings.”

“Yes, Director. How much should we tell them?”

“As little as possible. Loyal Imperial citizens know better than to test a vessel quarantine.” Then he turned around again and gestured to his aide. “Since we’re on the topic, how have the teams sweeping the vessel fared?”

“Progress has been… slow, Director. We’ve cleansed the operations sections and kept the infestation contained. But it’s dreadful in there.”

The aide would have elaborated further, but suddenly the comms technician started shouting into his vox receiver again.

“Valley Nostrus, do you copy?! Cut your speed at once and adjust your heading! You’re cutting it too close!”

“What’s going on?” the Director demanded, turning to the hololithic display being projected in the middle of the room. It displayed the space station Eschel in its vast industrial glory, with a very large ship leading the entire merchant fleet directly toward it.

“They’re not responding to our comms anymore!” complained the technician. “They’re not following docking instructions! I don’t know what’s wrong!”

“Should we fire a warning shot?” asked a weapons officer.

“Of course not! I don’t think-“

“D-Director!” a different technician sputtered, recoiling from his screen display. “The merchant fleets’ reactors just… their output has almost trebled! Something’s happening!”

“We have new signum traces coming from all vessels! They’re powering weapons!”

“I see primary turrets on the scopes! Where did those come from?!”

“Torpedoes! We have torpedoes incoming! Turret gunners to your stations! All battle stations! We are at red alert! This is not a drill!!”

“Something else is happening! The Nostrus is… opening up? What are those?!”

The station’s Director Primus watched the unfolding panic in stunned silence, his face as pale as a sheet. In the hololith, the megafreighter’s bow was yawning open, exposing massive metal tendrils that were slithering out into the void. Torpedoes, boarding pods, and assault gunships were all being launched from the merchant fleet in rapid, coordinated volleys, turning the space between the fleet and the Eschel into a swarm of tiny sensor contacts. What little return fire came from the station’s point-defense turrets was panicked and utterly insufficient.

He turned, trembling, to his equally shocked aides. “Prepare for boarders. Fortify this room and do all you can to keep turret control active. I must get a message to the planetary Governor.”

“Y-Yes, Lord!” one of them stuttered back.

“The torpedoes have landed! We have negative detonation! Those are boarding munitions!”

“Hull breaches detected in section 7! Section 8! Section 12! Section 5! Emperor help us, they’re everywhere!”

“Detecting another energy surge from the megafreighter! Their teleportarium is active!”

Harvest of Steel
Teleportarium

“System charge at 72%. Coordinates locked on. 260 seconds until spatial folding.”

Gaela listened patiently while the other Dark Techpriests worked at the cogitators surrounding the teleportation dais. The mares of Equinought Squadron stood around her in various states of unease, with Pinkie Pie’s massive, brightly decorated Dreadnought standing at the edge. Energy danced between the metal tines positioned above, and tubing running along the floor and ceiling pulsed and writhed like a living thing.

“Explanatory: You will be inserted directly into the reactor block, in the aft fuel reserves.” A Dark Techpriest explained to the assembled troops. “That is the closest area to the target station with sufficient vacant capacity to reduce chances of teleporter error to below one percent.”

“Noted. If there are any crew at all, they’ll likely notice such an incursion immediately and be able to trace it,” Gaela said. “We will move on the reactor immediately.”

A deep groan rolled through the ship, and several muted thuds came from the decks above.

“Cannon fire,” Twilight whispered.

“Looks like it’s time to git this show on the road,” Applejack mumbled. “Ah hope Daniels is doin’ okay. He-“

A sudden shout cut her off. “Outta the way, nerds!” the voice growled, instantly setting most of the ponies on edge.

Rainbow Dash spun around. “Tellis?!” she asked, at once excited and perplexed.

Sure enough, the Chaos Lord was barging his way into the teleportarium, shoving aside the Dark Acolytes trying to block his path. Tellis grabbed an errant servo arm and flung the hapless cultist it was attached to into one of his peers, scattering them across the deck and clearing the path to the teleportation dais.

“ALL ABOARD THE PAIN TRAIN!!” he howled, leaping across the room with his flight pack roaring. Tellis landed on top of Pinkie’s Dreadnought, kneeling over her shoulder and grabbing onto a smokestack for balance.

“Hey! No! Stop!” Twilight sputtered, waving a hoof at the Iron Warrior frantically.

“Priority maximum: Lord Tellis, vacate the teleportarium dias!” bleated the Techpriest at the main controls. “The calculations for mass transm-“

“Shaddup and fix it, dork,” Tellis commanded, pointing a claw toward the cultist. “I’m going on a pony mission!”

“Sweet!” Rainbow cheered.

“NO! No this is not sweet!” Twilight cried.

“Consarn it, Tellis! Git offa her!”

“Techpriest! Adjust the mass calculations, quickly!” Gaela shouted.

“Teleportation event in 10 seconds!” the Techpriest warned as his limbs started clambering across the console in a desperate flurry.

“So am I the Pain Train? Is that what we call the Dreadnought now?” Pinkie asked, stooping over to address the other mares. “I don’t really like that name.”

The energy in the teleportarium peaked, and the Equinoughts shrieked as a thundering flare of power consumed them.

Blessed Redemption
*Error – signum rebound lost*
*Location unknown*

“Aaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaah! In case it was not previously clear, AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

Twilight staggered away from the teleportation site, her helmet visor and augmetic display reduced to solid sheets of static. Her entire body felt weak and nauseous, and her muscles ached inexplicably. This wasn’t the first time she had used the human teleport technology, but now she was dearly hoping that it would be the last.

The other ponies weren’t any better. Applejack groaned and fell over onto her side, Rarity wailed and curled up into a ball, and a pained moan was coming from Pinkie’s Dreadnought. Rainbow Dash immediately jumped into the air and slammed into a bulkhead wall in her confusion. Gaela wobbled and took a single step forward, and then promptly collapsed onto one knee. Fluttershy’s reaction was less dramatic than the others, although they could all hear terrified wheezing sounds from behind her vox grille.

“What’s up with you guys?” Tellis asked, hopping down from Pinkie’s Dreadnought. “Teleportation sickness? Walk it off, you’ll be fine.”

It took several more seconds for everyone’s visors to reboot so that they weren’t completely blinded. Gaela whirled on the Chaos Lord immediately, glaring up at the Astartes from beneath her black hood.

“Are you MAD?!” the Techpriest hissed, her mechanical fingers gripping her axe tightly enough for the gears to squeal.

“Yeah, a little. Stabbing stuff usually helps with that, though. Why?”

“Assault teleportations are dangerous operations, Lord Tellis. A sudden change in target mass can be catastrophic,” Gaela explained tightly.

“Oh, so what? You’re all fine!” Tellis retorted.

“Ah think Ah mighta left a few organs behind,” Applejack whimpered.

“Okay, well maybe not ‘fine,’ but if it wasn’t a super important organ you can get it re-installed when we get back.” Tellis turned away from the Dark Techpriest and found Rainbow Dash picking herself up off the floor. “Hey Rainbabe, you all right? You didn’t hit the wall too hard.”

“Yeah… I… ugh… I’m okay…” the pegasus slowly pushed herself upright, groaning. “We all made it, right?”

“Yes… it looks that way.” Twilight took a moment to fight down another wave of nausea. “Despite Applejack’s concerns, I don’t think we actually got any internals juggled around in transit. It just… feels like it.”

“See? I told you it was fine! This is going great!” Tellis insisted. He turned around, staring down a dimly lit metal corridor. Then he turned around some more, looking down an equally bleak, empty corridor.

Finally, he looked down at Gaela again. “So what are we doing here, anyway?”

“Why did you insist on coming along if you didn’t even know the mission?!” Rarity shouted.

“Because you guys get all the best jobs! Assassinating Warbosses, assaulting Gargants, raiding derelicts, teleporting into… whatever this is!”

“He has a point,” Rainbow said with a shrug.

“Have you considered that maybe YOU would get the ‘best jobs’ instead if you actually stayed on-task and paid attention to briefings?” Twilight asked.

“I have not considered that, no.” Tellis crossed his arms over his chest. “So where are we going? I wanna kick something!”

The mares were mostly exasperated by his impatience, but Gaela seemed preoccupied by something else. She stared at a small sign bolted onto a bulkhead, and a burst of static escaped her vox as she cursed.

“It seems we translated safely, but the quantum banding restabilized in the wrong location. We are NOT in the reactor block,” the Dark Techpriest said grimly.

“Oh. Well, that’s not a big deal, is it?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Without knowing the current crew complement there is no way to know whether we’ve endangered our objective or ourselves. But we appear to be in the underdecks, meaning it will take some time to reach the correct area.” Gaela glanced over her shoulder. “In addition, without a readily available cogitator I’m unsure of the correct path.”

“Let’s ask that guy!” Pinkie said, pointing the enormous hand of her Dreadnought over Fluttershy’s head.

The meek pony squeaked in fright and activated her cloak. With the dim light passing straight through her, the others could see what Pinkie had seen: a human hand, laying on the floor, sticking out from behind a cargo container.

“Well, that ain’t good,” Applejack grumbled, approaching the container. “Oi, ya all right back there? Ya can come out, we ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

“We aren’t? Then what was the point of coming here?” Tellis groused.

The others ignored him, and Applejack reached the hand. She leaned past the corner of the cargo container and wasn’t especially surprised at the sight that greeted her: a dismembered arm lying at the edge of a patch of dried gore.

“He ain’t all right, guys,” Applejack said, backing away. “This boardin’ mission is startin’ to look a lot like the last one.”

The other mares stopped short, not caring to see the extent of the carnage. Gaela had no such qualms, however, and walked past Applejack to get a good view of the scene.

“Fascinating… These remains suggest the crewman was hacked apart, and likely eaten on the spot,” Gaela explained. “The blood trail is at least a week old, judging by the rate of decay, but I cannot distinguish actual tracks.”

“Let’s not go that way, then,” Rarity advised.

“Wait, wait, hold on.” Twilight shook her head. “This person was dismembered and EATEN? By what? There’s nothing on this ship except for humans, right?”

“That was our presumption when establishing mission parameters, yes. It appears we were mistaken.” Gaela turned away from the site of the massacre, idly kicking the disembodied hand out of sight. “We need not seek out the killer, though. Let’s proceed.”

“What if I want to find the killer, though? Maybe we can trade carving tips,” Tellis swung an arm, his lightning claws leaving bright red streaks that seemed to flicker in the air for several seconds.

“You can do what you’d like,” Rarity sniffed while she followed Gaela toward a different hallway. “You joined this mission by force and have no particular interest in its objectives, so we’re not going to try to keep you from wandering off.”

“C’mon Tellis, let’s take care of the objectives first!” Rainbow Dash said, lightly kicking his greaves in passing. “After that we have to wait for extraction, so we’ll have hours to run around the ship doing whatever we want!”

“Huh. Okay, that sounds pretty good,” the Iron Warrior admitted, following the ponies just ahead of Pinkie Pie’s walker. “So what’re the objectives?”

“We have to steal the primary datastacks and sabotage the reactor core. That way the ship can’t join the fight and help the defense fleet,” Twilight explained.

“That first thing doesn’t have anything to do with the ship fighting. Why do we need the ship’s robo-brain?” Tellis grunted.

“Because the Warsmith desires it,” Gaela replied coolly. “His whim is our command.”

“Yeugh. Dweebs.”

Despite the Raptor’s protests, he followed the others into the depths of the cruiser. The vessel seemed completely silent, and almost all of the rooms they passed by were locked and their doors unpowered. The doors that were not closed and locked were mostly destroyed; there were several rooms which had obviously been entered by force, with the doors torn open or partially melted down. The boarding party didn’t search these rooms as they advanced, but a passing glance revealed they were in a state of disarray and painted liberally with blood.

In fact, shredded corpses seemed to be a regular fixture of these underdecks, with gore splatters and blood trails interspersed through the halls. Gaela and Tellis were unbothered by the sight, walking by each grisly marker without a second glance. The ponies weren’t quite so jaded, and each body – or conspicuous lack of a body amidst a blood splatter – helped put their nerves on edge.

After nearly twenty minutes, Gaela spotted a cogitator console mounted into a bulkhead wall ahead of them. It looked inactive and dirt-encrusted, but it bore no obvious damage or contamination from the murder scenes scattered throughout the deck. It was also situated next to a set of blast doors cutting off access to the next section of the ship.

“Pie. Stand next to the cogitator. I’ll need to use your reactor,” the Techpriest commanded as she reached the device.

“Why? Can’t we just cut our way through here?” Tellis murmured, reaching the doors and slowly dragging a lightning claw against it.

“If we don’t wish to keep wandering the vessel aimlessly for hours on end, I must receive guidance from the ship’s logic engines,” Gaela insisted as she went to work.

Pinkie’s walker stomped up behind her, and then awkwardly turned around, its shoulders lurching to and fro to expose its back to the Techpriest. Gaela drew a cable from the cogitator and attached it to a corresponding nozzle attached to the Dreadnought’s power plant. With the twist of a knob, the console started to light up.

“I don’t suppose you could use that connection to find out what happened down here, could you?” Rarity asked.

“With sufficient time, perhaps, but that is not our objective and it’s not relevant to our chosen task.” Gaela lowered a small servo arm to the console and plugged in the dataspike at the end.

“Ya don’t think some kinda monster stalkin’ the underdecks might be relevant when we’re tryin’ to get around?” Applejack asked.

“If we encounter the predator, we should kill it. Otherwise it does not concern me.” Gaela tapped several buttons, and then spread a mechanical palm against the cogitator case. “Ancient beast of steel and flame, the mariners of the Warp command thee. Divulge thy secrets and render unto the servants of Chaos our bounty.”

The cogitator started sparking, and the screen flickered on and off before receding into static. Gaela closed her eye, and then began to draw data from the ship. “This console was not meant to be reactivated. It’s been disconnected from the rest of the vessel as part of a quarantine protocol. But there’s enough here. I have a path to the reactor.”

“Awesome! We’ve got this!” Rainbow cheered, jumping up and kicking the air.

“Just a moment and we can proceed. I’m unlocking the blast doors.” Gaela tapped several more buttons, and then unplugged from the data port. The heavy lock started to turn while she disconnected Pinkie’s Dreadnought, finally opening with a hefty clunk.

“Hey, anyone else hear that?” Applejack said, tilting her head to the side.

“Hear what?” asked Twilight. It was hard to hear anything over the machinery grinding away within the blast doors, but she had been busy transcribing Gaela’s prayer to a data file and hadn’t been paying attention.

“I feel something strange, now that you mention it,” Rarity mumbled. “It might still be the teleportation, though.”

Applejack frowned up at the door as it cracked open, releasing a puff of fresh air (or at least more recently recycled air) into the hall. “Ah coulda sworn-“

A scythe blade shot out from between the blast doors, stabbing into the farmer’s helmet. The ceramite squealed as the plating split open, followed by a terrified whinny within the helm. Applejack tried to scramble backward while the door kept opening, and a second blade shout out of the darkness along with a feral snarl.

This one stopped with its tip millimeters from Applejack’s visor, seized by a silver and gold gauntlet.

“Ooh, what do we have here?” Tellis yanked hard on the bladed limb in his hand, and a loud thump came from the blast doors as the body on the other side was slammed into the barrier. Another firm tug ripped the limb off entirely, and he held up the scythe blade in the light while green and orange fluids dribbled onto the deck.

Nearly five feet long from base to tip, the weapon seemed to be composed of bone narrowed to a fine, serrated edge. The blade was attached to a knob of segmented carapace; milky white in color with a red streak across it, and marred by grime and encrusted blood. The ponies didn’t know what to make of it and were anyways still reacting to the sudden attack, but Gaela recognized it immediately.

“Tyranids,” the Dark Techpriest hissed.

Applejack kept scrambling backward as her assailant squeezed through the slowly opening blast doors. It was much larger than a human, with upper arms bearing scythe-bladed talons and lower arms melded into some sort of amalgam of exposed organs that vaguely resembled a gun but pulsed and bulged like living organs. Its head was large even in proportion to the rest of it, bearing a long, spine-riddled shield of hardened chitin that tapered to a snarling maw full of needle-like teeth. A whip of chord muscle made up its tail, ending in an axe-shaped head. It was a monster as fierce and horrific as any daemon, but it lacked the bizarre, uncanny qualities of many Warpspawn.

Rarity tried to draw her sword, but a cold chill blanketed her mind, and her horn fizzled when she tried to levitate the weapon. It was a feeling she had only experienced once before, and the sudden shock left her frozen in place as the alien shouldered its way toward the group. Twilight experienced a similar sensation and quickly activated the psionic manifold, protecting her mind from the looming psychic shadow.

In the end though, she couldn’t deploy her harmonizer blade faster than Tellis could punch the creature already in arms’ reach.

“Sweet! We got bugs, you guys!” the Iron Warrior crowed, smashing one set of talons into the Tyranid’s neck. With a twist and a sweep of his leg, the alien was decapitated and its headless body slammed onto the deck.

Rarity shuddered as the shadow in the Warp fell from her consciousness. It almost felt as if she’d been submerged underwater and had finally broken the surface again as the alien died. “That… It… It’s the same as before! In Canterlot! This sensation is the same!”

“What? We were fighting the Tau back then. There are Tau in here?” Rainbow asked, confused.

“Negative. The Tau were utilizing the Tyranid’s capacity for suppressing psychic powers with their own experimental devices.” Gaela walked up to the still-twitching corpse and jabbed it with her axe. “This is the real thing. It appears we’ve found our mysterious predator.”

A bestial snarl came from the halls beyond the blast doors. The doors had mostly opened by now, exposing the next length of dimly-lit hallway. Blood and ichor splashed across the deck in long slashes and winding trails, and piles of gore lay in every corner. Much of it was clearly the heaped and mostly eaten remains of humans, although that was only obvious thanks to the bloodied wargear and clothing that lay nearby the site of each massacre.

“This is even better than I expected!” Tellis said brightly.

“Are all Ty-Tyranids this b-big?” Fluttershy stuttered, hiding behind the leg of the squadron’s Dreadnought.

“No. This particular strain is a Warrior. It is one of the more common – and smaller – varieties. There are many more, and many kinds are much, much larger.” Gaela glanced behind Pinkie, down the hall they had come from. “Of course, an infested void ship can only host specimens up to a certain size, given the limitations of interior hull space. We’re not likely to encounter any xenos much larger than this.”

“Okay, so I’m a little confused, here,” Rainbow Dash admitted. “This ship doesn’t have humans on it after all? Just monsters?”

“I expect it has both. Emergency protocols for countering intrusion may lead to sections of the vessel being sealed off for later purging. A detailed account of what happened will have to wait until we reach the ship’s datastacks.” Gaela pointed her axe toward the gore-slicked halls. “Shall we proceed?”

“Uh… Y-Yes… but first, can you give us a brief rundown of Tyranids and what we can expect?” Twilight asked nervously. “These aliens seem very different from the others.”

“Tyranids are a psychic hive species that specializes in genetic modification and weaponized hyper-consumption. They use mass spawning to facilitate warfare, creating soldiers as needed and relying on the communal will of their psychic hive mind and instinct rather than training or strategy. They eschew the use or construction of tools, instead improving their bodies directly with successive generations. This is… highly efficient, if nothing else, and ensures that each individual Tyranid is a formidable physical specimen while also being easily replaceable. However, it does mean that their weapons and armor tend to be less effective.”

“Bugs go SQUISH!” Tellis brought his boot down on the disembodied head of the Warrior, crushing its brainpan under his ceramite heel. “Let’s get going! I wanna kill more of ‘em!”

Twilight sighed. “All right Tellis, since you’re so eager you can take point. Just make sure-“

“BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!” the Chaos Lord roared, immediately rocketing down the hall with his flight pack burning behind him.

“Wait! Tellis, we… and there he goes.” Twilight groaned.

“Should I go after him?” Rainbow asked.

“No. He can take care of himself. We should stick together as much as possible. Pinkie Pie, take the front. Applejack, stay close to her so you two can cover our advance with the flamers if you need to.”

“Whuh? Oh, uh… okay,” the farmer mumbled.

“Yo, AJ, are you okay? You sound a bit rattled,” Rainbow Dash pointed out.

“Rattled… Yeah, that’s about right,” Applejack replied. She could feel blood trickling down her neck, originating from a scratch just under her ear. The scything talon that had struck her helmet hadn’t penetrated deeply, but it was just enough to slice into the flesh underneath.

Sucking in a breath, Applejack marched up next to Pinkie. “Ah’m okay. Let’s roll, ponies.”

A feral shriek and a lunatic’s laugh echoed through the bulkheads in reply, and Equinought Squadron descended into the darkness of the underdecks.

Space Fortress Eschel
Cargo deck G-6

“Move! Move! Get some cover and dig in! Stay away from those fuel canisters!”

*Watch the left corridors, shas’la! The Iron Warriors took the other one, we won’t see reinforcements from there!*

Human and Tau soldiers bolted from their landing craft, sprinting to reach the blocks of cargo containers stacked in untidy towers within the cargo docks. One section of the docks was still alive with the crack of lasers and shouting as deck ratings and defense troopers tried to hold their ground against the oncoming assault. The other side was a veritable graveyard littered with still-warm corpses and dozens of bolter shell casings. The Chaos Space Marines had stormed the docks first, overrunning the defenders immediately and advancing deeper into the station. So quick was the assault that the soldiers not standing directly in the path of the attackers were left all but untouched and were still huddled behind cover when the second wave of pirates arrived.

Heavy bolters roared from the landing craft, stitching a line of mass-reactive bursts over the breadth of the cargo docks. Very little of it reached the rear space of the facility, which was shielded by the stacks of containers and lifting cranes filling the busy docks. It was here that the main Imperial resistance was found, and the cluttered walkways and loaders were soon surrounded by webs of criss-crossing lasers and pulse charges.

“Suppressive fire! Get suppressive fire down the hall! Keep their reinforcements’ heads down!” Daniels fired a rail round into two soldiers sprinting for cover, slicing a hole straight through the first and piercing the other. The void-rated combat armor did nothing to impede the shot, and both men staggered to ground in pain.

Jerriha reached cargo container adjacent to Daniels, pressing her shoulder against the paneling while lasblasts streaked overhead. “Why do we always end up fighting in the same engagement zones?!” Her pulse carbine opened up under the muzzle, loading a photon charge into the launcher.

“I guess you’re just lucky!” Daniels shouted with a laugh. “Could be luckier, though! Last I heard AJ was supposed to be here with us!”

“Ugh.” Jerriha slapped a device onto the edge of the crate, and then raised her gun over her head to point it over the crate. After a few seconds a feed from a micro-camera opened up on her helmet display, giving her a view of the enemy firing line. “Remember to blink!”

The photon grenade launched, and for a few seconds the world went white. The Fire Warriors jumped up immediately, spraying burst fire at any enemy soldiers who hadn’t already ducked into cover while also bolting to new firing angles. The mercenaries were largely content to stay to their positions, using the respite to hurl their own grenades or reload.

A pair of pegasi zipped over the defender’s positions, landing atop the container towers so they were out of sight of the men on the deck. A few seconds later explosive charges were hurled over the edge, plummeting down one side of the container stacks before the ponies lifted off again. The defenders scattered in a panic just before the detonations started, pulverizing and incinerating the entrenched deck crew. The stacks of cargo were also unsettled by the explosions, and two of them collapsed atop the flames.

“Hey! Whoever’s in charge of the ponies around here, watch the explosives!” Daniels shouted. “We don’t know what’s in all these containers! There are fuel supplies around here!”

Lightning Dust swooped in toward the container tower, kicking off the side and then back-flipping to land next to Daniels. “Aw, c’mon! Let us cut loose a little! This is our first official pirate raid!” the pegasus said, grinning under her respirator mask.

“Are you maniacs ENJOYING this?” Jerriha demanded while her carbine spat a flurry of energy flares across the hold.

“Absolutely not! I’m a professional! We don’t have fun!” Daniels insisted before jabbing a finger at the pegasus. “You guys are doing fine; just be careful! If you blow up anything important it could cut this assault short real quickly!”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Lightning said, waving a wing toward the mercenary. “Where’re we going once we push through these chumps?”

“We’re not going anywhere. The job is to hold this area while the Iron Warriors gut the fortress and the Scavs carry off the cargo,” Daniels explained.

“Well that’s kind of boring, but I guess I’d rather fight in here anyway,” Lightning mused. “There’s hardly any room to fly in the halls.”

“If you want to fight here, stop talking and start shooting!” Jerriha shouted, popping a battery cell out of her pulse carbine and sliding in a fresh one. “They haven’t stopped reinforcing this firing line yet, you know!”

“Weapons servitors! Down! Get down!” shouted someone behind another container.

A second later the staccato bursts of numerous heavy bolters rose above the sound of lasguns and pulse rifles. A full dozen lurching cyborgs stomped into the cargo docks with heavy weapons built into their shoulders, spitting streams of explosives across separate lines of fire and promptly suppressing the invaders. Rumbling along in their wake was a pair of Kataphron Destroyer servitors: pale, bloated torsos implanted atop a pair of heavy treads and within a cage of armor and weapons that straddled the line between infantry and tank.

“Hey, don’t we have a few of those guys too? Did we bring them along?” Lightning Dust asked, hovering just high enough to see over the intervening cover.

She promptly ducked down again when one of the Kataphron Destroyers fired, launching a streak of blazing plasma across the docks. The blast struck the top of one cargo container, burning a deep trench through the top before exploding. The soldiers sheltering behind it bolted away, fleeing the splash of molten metal as best they could under the beat of the heavy bolters.

Jerriha mumbled a curse, bitterly regretting that her regiment’s battlesuits were allocated to a different assault point. There was a great deal of infantry to hold this area, but not much in the way of heavier armor or weapons. “Aren’t those things controlled by a Techpriest?!”

“Usually, yeah!”

Jerriha activated her tactical camera within her visor display again, grimacing at the veritable barricade of pounding guns, armored shielding, and mutilated flesh barricading the largest exit from the cargo hold. She spotted a patch of red and zoomed in. A Techpriest was there behind its entourage of cyborgs, but it was working at some console near the exit rather than engaging or making any serious effort to direct his servitors. She was sure that basic tactical control was part of some hived-off sub-routine that occupied a marginal portion of the cultist’s brainpower while it focused on other things, but this wasn’t her first time fighting Techpriests. They wouldn’t be prioritizing a cogitator over a firefight unless it was truly more important somehow.

“There’s a cogitator behind the gun line! The Techpriest is there!” Jerriha called out.

“Well that’s not good! Somebody put a stop to it!”

“What’s he doing?” Lightning Dust asked.

“Something bad! Probably trying to vent the docks or deactivate the gravity plating!”

Another burst of plasma exploded against the container tower, and heavy metal components started flooding out onto the floor as a molten hole was torn in the side. Several mercenaries scattered to get away from the debris, only to get ripped apart by heavy bolters if they strayed into the servitors’ fire lanes.

“Ready photon grenades!” Jerriha shouted, setting up her launcher again.

“Nah, that won’t work,” Lightning interrupted, waving a wing in the Fireblade’s direction. Then she turned her head upwards and shouted “Yo, Shifty! Over here!”

A puff of violet smoke popped out of nowhere in front of Daniels, and he was only slightly surprised to see a unicorn walk out of the shroud. He was guessing it was a mare from its slighter build, because otherwise the pony was almost totally wrapped in a hooded magic cloak and partially scorched bandage wrappings. Even her eyes were covered with a silk blindfold, and it was only her exposed horn and muzzle that let the other soldiers know her coat was a light blue. The symbol of Tzeentch was drawn over the center of her blindfold, and the ancient sigil pulsed in time with her horn as she addressed Lightning Dust.

“Say no more, Captain. I know what you seek,” the strange equine said. Her voice was a lilting whisper, sounding as if it were on the verge of a giggle. It was also barely audible to Lightning Dust, given the constant thump of heavy bolters pounding away at their cover.

“Neat! Let’s go over it anyway!” Lightning barked, leaning in closer. “Shifty, I need you to get behind the firing line and take out the Techpriest. Once the cultist is down, bug out! We’ll handle the servies!”

Another plasma explosion came from above, and Shifty took two steps to the left without looking up. Dollops of molten metal and searing plasma splashed onto the deck where she had been standing, sizzling against the durasteel plating. The unicorn nodded absently, as if she was thinking about something else.

“The paths open. So much blood! But I can see the way,” Shifty Sights giggled while her horn – and the Mark of Tzeentch drawn on her blindfold – flashed. A second later colored smoke exploded around her, and the cultist seemed to get sucked into nowhere.

The combat servitors continued thundering away into the docks, battering the cargo containers with relentless bursts of their heavy bolters to suppress the soldiers sheltering behind them. Hundreds of hot, spent casings rolled across the decks, and spent magno-capacitors popped out of plasma calivers amidst spurts of blistering steam. The barrage was entirely excessive, pushing the heavy weapons to their absolute limits to close off any possible path of approach; a wasteful tactic of singular purpose.

A puff of smoke popped up from nowhere to the side of the fire lanes. A unicorn in a blindfold stuck her head out uncertainly. Half the servitors swiveled toward her immediately, their guns leaving a trail of tiny explosions sawing across the deck.

Shifty vanished within the cloud, and the heavy bolter slugs blasted through it without effect, scattering against the adjacent bulkhead.

The unicorn appeared again, stepping out of another purplish puff just in front of the wall of servitors. The appearance of an enemy this close warranted a change in combat tactics rather than simply aiming lower, and the nearest cyborg stopped firing and reared back its servo arm.

Shifty giggled and hopped forward, slinking away into another bloom of colorful smoke. A metal claw swung through the cloud after her, clamping shut on nothing but air.

The next burst of magical vapor came from behind one of the Kataphron battle servitors, the fanciful colored gases mixing with the choking black exhaust from the cyborg’s engine block. Shifty crawled forward, her tongue wetting her lips as she beheld the red backside of an Imperial Techpriest. Her horn pulsed, and she couldn’t suppress an excited titter as she prepared to attack.

The dataspike struck like a scorpion’s tail, lashing in a long arc downward while Shifty was mid-spell. The adamantium tip punched through the mare’s skull with ease, plunging into the spongy-

Shifty hopped to the right, and a slivery blur whipped by her ear. A metal spike pierced the deck plating, embedding partially in the flooring surface while the Techpriest whirled around.

Shifty answered the attack by blowing a thin plume of azure flames at the engineer-cultist. The blast was nothing like the intensity or spread of a proper flamer, but the magical fire clung to the cyborg and burned well enough to ward off an immediate attack of his axe.

The rumble of an engine shifting gears provided ample warning, but the mare was focused on her objective and didn’t immediately identify the sound as a threat. The Kataphron servitor suddenly lurched backward, its heavy treads rolling its considerable bulk over the surprised mare. Her leg was caught-

Shifty threw herself to the deck, flattening her body as much as possible as the engine next to her shifted gears. The Kataphron servitor lurched backwards, its grinding treads passing on either side of the mare. Her horn crackled ominously, and an amulet hanging from her neck started to vibrate in sympathy.

The Kataphron was suddenly wrapped in bright, coruscating whips of lightning, and the servitor flailed wildly while its electro-dampers overloaded. Capacitor cells on its plasma culverin popped one by one, drenching the Destroyer’s flesh in acid and lodging metal shards in its head.

Shifty rolled out from under the servitor to face the Techpriest again.

The Techpriest recoiled, bringing the melta cutter of his servo harness to bear. The servo-

Shifty’s robes lifted as her tail – thick and serpentine, and with a tip of hardened bone – whipped forward. A bladed metal hook on the end sliced into a servo arm as the Techpriest recoiled, and with a sharp tug the augmetic limb was severed.

Without missing a step, the Techpriest pivoted, his axe coming down-

Shifty jumped away, the power axe buzzing by her nose while her amulet crackled again with magical charge.

“Sorry friend. Your paths are closed, now,” the unicorn sang just before lightning erupted from her horn.

The Techpriest shuddered as arcs of terrible power overloaded his augments and seared his remaining flesh. The servo arms flailed wildly, capacitors popped, and sparks blasted from his optics in brilliant fans. The cyborg reeled, and then collapsed with a shriek of binaric cant.

The servitors promptly lost their tactical cohesion as their individual combat programming took over. Most of them stopped firing entirely, finally letting their heavy weapons rest. Several started turning to address the hostile pony behind the firing line, bringing their combat claws and whip-like cabling to bear. Others detected very low ammunition supplies and dangerous heat levels, and those cyborg servants began a clumsy withdraw back into the hallway. Almost immediately they were chased by incoming fire, and two servitors were quickly struck down by pulse fire.

“Oops! So long, chums! See you again after the DarkMech rewires your brain bulbs!” Colored smoke burst around Shifty, and once again the unicorn disappeared before a servo arm clamped shut on her.

Daniels leaned out from the corner of a cargo container and fired his rail rifle at the Kataphron servitor as soon as the suppressive fire let up. The shot sliced clean through the cyborg’s chest and tore through part of its backpack, spraying blood and shrapnel onto the engine block that served as the Destroyer’s chassis. Lasblasts and pulse bolts battered the servitor after the initial wound, and its systems went dead seconds later amidst shuddering blasts of sparks.

“I’m baaaaaack!” Shifty sang, hopping out of another puff of smoke behind the mercenary.

“Good work, lass! The servitors are breaking formation! We’ve got ‘em!” Daniels ducked back behind the container and reached up to scratch Shifty behind her ears. The mare grinned and leaned against his hand, a dark flush coming over her cheeks.

Jerriha snapped off a few more pulse blasts before dashing between the cargo towers and covering next to Daniels. “We’re holding position while the DarkMech starts loading up cargo! Get the wounded to the medicae and hold the perimeter!”

“Aye, in a bit.” Daniels poked his head up above his cover, scanning the ground near the exit. “We need an enemy officer.”

“We do? For what? Interrogation? I was under the impression we had the intel we needed.”

“Not sure. It was part of our orders. Did you see one?”

“Not alive.”

“Dead will do. The orders just said the face needed to be recognizable…”

Lightning Dust and Shifty shared a worried look. Then they turned toward the edge of the docks. The original landing craft had all left after delivering their assault forces, and a second wave of transports and even a few landers were moving into position now to begin the process of looting the cargo.

One of the transports was much smaller than the others, and its hull shimmered as it floated through the atmospheric shielding that kept the docks pressurized against the open void beyond; a sure sign of a light-refracting stealth field. The transport sunk to the deck, its landing gear bouncing lightly against the flooring.

“She’s here,” Shifty whispered, her ears falling flat against her head.

Chrysalis emerged cautiously from the Lighter transport, her head snapping left and right as if she was expecting to be under fire at any moment. It wasn’t an unreasonable concern; although she had been deployed after the docks were secured, the air still stunk of smoke and there were bodies littering the deck everywhere. Soldiers were still running back and forth and rummaging through the corpses as well, and though the only ones free and alive were clearly Chaos troops the changeling Queen didn’t let her guard down.

“This hangar stinks of fear, anger, and death,” Chrysalis grunted, her wings buzzing. She lifted off from the deck, zipping over the walls of crates and containers separating the loading docks from the battlefield beyond.

“So this is how the humans wage war. How artless. Effective though, I suppose. It’s no wonder they swept the hive so easily without me there to defend it,” she sighed, landing atop a crane. Once she spotted a circle of ponies she set a path of descent and jumped off, flying down to the equine soldiers and the mercenaries speaking to them.

“You there!” Chrysalis barked at Lightning Dust. “I require an enemy officer! I was told you’d have one for me.” She landed in front of the ponies, sneering down at the shorter creatures.

Shifty shivered and quickly backed up behind Lightning Dust, which the pegasus thought was very odd. Nonetheless, she stretched one wing off to the side.

“They’re getting it now. Take a load off, Queenie.”

“My task requires HASTE, equine,” Chrysalis sniffed. “I don’t have time to wait on you to perform yours.”

“Well then I guess you should have shown up earlier, when we were still fighting! Maybe you could have even saved a few of our guys!” Lightning snapped back. “You DO have weapons, don’t you? They managed to give me a lasgun and a knife, what’d you get?”

Chrysalis’s left eye flash bright crimson. “Would you like to find out?” she asked.

Shifty squeaked and curled up in a ball behind Lightning Dust. “N-No! Please! T-Too many paths! Too much p-pain! Stop!”

Lightning Dust didn’t seem at all perturbed by the quivering unicorn behind her, and Chrysalis took a step forward while her horn flickered threateningly.

“Hey! We found a guy!” Daniels shouted, interrupting the encounter. He had a body on his back in a fireman’s carry, and Jerriha was following behind him with her helmet off.

Chrysalis continued glaring at Lightning for a few seconds, and then her expression fell and she turned toward the mercenary. “Finally. Who do we have here?”

“Name’s Daniels. I’m-“

“Not YOU, the unfortunate cretin you’re carrying,” Chrysalis clarified.

“Ah. Right. I think I see what’s going on here.” Daniels dumped the body on the floor in front of the changeling, rolling it onto its back. The body was that of a young man with jet-black hair wearing light combat armor. On his chest plate was a squad leader’s rank insignia right above a large black spot where much of his ribcage had been burned away.

Chrysalis was speechless initially, so Daniels held up a small datacard that he had taken from the body’s belt. “First Sergeant Timothy Reim! Have at it, lass.”

Chrysalis stared at the corpse, and then up at Daniels. She looked rather upset, and her lip curled to reveal a number of dangerously sharp, curved teeth. “A Sergeant?! Isn’t that the lowest of your ranks? And this one is broken!”

“Yes, well, they don’t have many primary commanders patrolling cargo docks in the middle of a standard operational cycle,” Jerriha explained. “Also, I aim for the ones shouting orders first. Sorry.”

“Actually, we did find a Lieutenant too, but we couldn’t get him loose of the cargo crate that crushed most of him.” Daniels shrugged and pointed at Lighting Dust. “That was your girls’ doing, I think.”

“Meh. Job was to take the room first, nab a ranking guy second. This is fine.”

“Be silent!” Chrysalis snapped at the others. “This one is no good. Go get a live one!”

“My instructions were to hold this area and get you a body, Miss.” Daniels shrugged. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“What, can you only mimic live people or something?” Lightning asked.

“No, I could obviously take on this cadaver’s face. But how am I to mimic his words when I’ve never heard the wretch speak, idiot?” Chrysalis snarled. “You think infiltration and subversion is so easy? That I simply slap on a new face and stroll behind enemy lines?”

“I haven’t thought much about all the different ways to lie to people, so yeah. I kinda did think it was that easy,” Lightning retorted.

Jerriha sighed wearily and scratched at the base of her topknot. “Look, you’re going to have to make do with what you have. In the midst of all this do you really think someone is going to notice if your voice is off?”

“You’d be quite surprised at how perceptive and testy victims can be when they already know the enemy is close at hand,” Chrysalis hissed. Then she stared down at the corpse and heaved a sigh. “Whatever. I can work with this.”

Her horn flashed, and the changeling was consumed by an aura of bright green magic. The aura expanded and shifted, leaving behind a near-perfect recreation of the dead Sergeant. The main differences were an inexplicable patch of red over her chest and the lack of any injury.

Chrysalis swiped a hand over the red spot, and a relief of the Aquila – the twin-headed eagle that was the universal emblem of the Imperium of Man – covered the aberration. Then she glared down at Lightning Dust and pointed to her stomach. “Here. Shoot me in the abdomen.”

Daniels snapped his rifle up, and Chrysalis threw herself forward just before a rail shot sliced through the air behind her. The rail stabbed into the deck, tearing a trail of shredded, glowing metal behind it for almost a full meter before it stopped. Chrysalis herself seemed unharmed, although the back plate of her armor had been partially cut open just from the shot passing nearby.

“I WAS TALKING TO THE PEGASUS, NOT YOU!!” she roared, staggering upright again. Her eyes flashed brightly, one of them pulsing an eldritch green while the other blazed crimson.

“Oh. Sorry about that,” Daniels said, lowering his weapon. “I didn’t think it mattered which one of us shot you.”

Jerriha wordlessly stared at the mercenary, then down at his rail rifle. Her eyebrow arched, and she looked up at him again.

“Why do you even need one of us to shoot you?” Lightning Dust asked. “Can’t you just copy the wound?”

“I appreciate your asking pertinent questions rather than immediately opening fire on me,” Chrysalis hissed. “I don’t have time to explain the intricacies of changeling shapeshifting right now, but the short answer is no. I can’t copy a wound convincingly. Now fire your laser rifle ONCE and aim here!” She pointed again to the unblemished body armor over her stomach.

Lightning reluctantly did as asked, firing a single lasbolt into Chrysalis. The changeling Queen flinched as the shot burned a blackened hole into the main armor layer, and then grimaced.

“Hmm… this wouldn’t be a serious wound, but it will do.” She paused to glare at Daniels, and when she spoke again her voice was a perfect match for the mercenary’s own. “Keep your men from advancing any further. The command center’ll be empty soon.”

“Sure thing, Miss. May the Dark Gods favor you,” Daniels said simply.

Blessed Redemption – underdecks

The loud, rapid thumping of Pinkie’s butcher cannon echoed through the bulkheads as she stitched a line of fire across the width of the hallway. One of the incoming Tyranids took a round in the leg, and a third of the creature vanished in a puff of fire and gore. Two more dodged and weaved through the storm of cannon fire, bounding over crates and kicking off of walls with shocking agility.

As tall and strong as a Space Marine and somehow even faster, the Genestealers were shock troops of terrifying purpose and ability. The alien skirmishers danced through the incoming fire, long tongues hanging out of jaws lined with razor-edged teeth. Their four arms each ended in long, hardened talons that could carve through ceramite with ease. Only their light exoskeletons presented anything akin to a serious weakness; the carapace folded quickly before the generous spread of weapons that they encountered while bearing down on the pirates.

Applejack shot her gravity lash forward, only for her target to bounce to the side. A burst of shuriken caught the Genestealer before it could accelerate again, slicing deep into the alien’s body. It staggered forward, wounded but still alive, and then a round from the butcher cannon finished the job.

The third Tyranid continued loping forward, and it leapt over a screeching purple beam and ducked under a plasma bolt. Applejack’s flamer swung around to intercept it in the last few meters before it was in arm’s reach, but the Genestealer bunched up its legs and jumped again, vaulting completely over the heavily armored mare.

“Chaos TAKE YOU!” Gaela swung her power axe just as the Genestealer reached her, hewing off a shoulder and the better part of two arms with an arc of sizzling crimson. The alien landed on her nonetheless, slamming Gaela to the deck and punching one set of talons into her shoulder.

Its last free arm reached back to strike a killing blow, but Gaela’s servo arms moved first, clamping down on the alien’s wrist and rotating the vise. The Genestealer snarled in rage, splashing ropes of saliva over Gaela’s helmet face.

Rarity’s power sword punched into its back and out its chest a moment later, and the feral shriek weakened into a gasping hiss. Gaela slugged the Genestealer in the head, knocking it off of her so that it could die without slowing her down.

“Gaela, are you okay?!” Twilight gasped between force beams.

“The damage will not be a hindrance,” the Dark Techpriest replied while she stood up. “Advance. More waves are incoming.”

Smaller Tyranids started flooding into the hallway section from the rooms ahead, their chittering rising to a fevered pitch within the dimly-lit halls. Larger Warrior bio-forms raced behind the swarm, guiding them onward in a tide of teeth and blades.

“Fluttershy, now!” Twilight shouted, turning her face away from oncoming hostiles.

With a frightened squeak and a muted thump, a photon grenade flew toward the Tyranids. It hit the deck just ahead of the swarm, instantly blinding the smaller Tyranids with the pulsing flashes of light. Several of them tripped or veered into each other, only to be shoved and trampled by the next row of aliens. The larger Warriors merely flinched from the flash, their more sophisticated biology quickly adjusting to the changes in light intake and their senses less reliant on sight. They stopped to re-order the horde of Hormagaunt drones, driving them forward over the bodies of the slow and blinded and into the armored intruders.

“Hope no one minds me startin’ a barbeque in here!” Applejack shouted, blasting a spread of flame into the oncoming swarm. Fire bloomed around the Tyranid vanguard, swallowing the head creatures and baking them inside their shells. They struggled onward for a few more seconds before collapsing, their bodies providing more fuel for the thirsting blaze. The aliens kept coming, clawing their way over their kin even as their limbs caught fire and their bellies cooked.

A fireball from Twilight exploded near the pyre, blasting away the massing aliens and blowing another wave of fire over the swarm. The flames rose higher as they filled more of the hallway and swallowed more Tyranids, and at last the aliens stopped advancing into the inferno.

“Kill the Warriors! The others will break when the synapse controllers are dead!” Gaela ordered. Her laser fired, cutting into one such alien.

It fired back, its barbed strangler swelling before spitting a spine-covered pod over the flames. The weapon struck Applejack atop her armor’s mantle, and the pod promptly exploded outward in a thrashing morass of grasping, barbed vines to entangle her and the others.

“Ow! Hey!” Rainbow Dash got one of her legs caught by the vines, and soon felt her other legs and one of her wings being tugged downward toward her heavily-armored friend. She hit her free wing’s booster, spinning around in the air, and then fired a single impulse blaster to tear herself free.

“I think I’m starting to appreciate the crude simplicity of Ork weapons!” Twilight grunted while she spun her harmonizer, slicing through several tendrils at once. The weapon bounced up in the air, and then a screaming ray of violet slashed across the Tyranid horde. One of the Warriors staggered from having its leg cut open, and then a pair of shots from Pinkie blew it apart.

Rarity was completely entangled by the strangler vines that had sprouted from Applejack, but could still see well enough to aim the plasma gun floating over her head. A burst of howling plasma bolts struck another Warrior, instantly melting through its carapace and burning away the interior of its torso. “One more!” she shouted.

Gaela’s ion blaster released a loud, piercing whine as its capacitors overcharged, and the discharge tines sparked angrily with ribbons of white-hot power. “Dark Gods, quicken the circuit with divine fury! Strike down this xeno filth!”

Her ion blaster discharged with a ferocious thunderclap, and an arc of lightning leapt through the flames. It struck one Hormagaunt, incinerating it instantly, and then leapt to another to slay it as well, bouncing from one target to another down the line. In the blink of an eye it had jumped into the last Warrior bio-form, and the Tyranid quaked in pain while its muscles spasmed and its organs roasted.

The alien dropped to one knee, shrieking, and then the psychic scream of its death exploded through the hall. Twilight and Rarity winced at the sensation, while the smaller Tyranids staggered as if struck. Some of them were thrown to the ground, gasping, and a few even hurled themselves into the raging fire. After the initial shock, however, the swarm immediately turned and ran away from the blaze, largely uninterested in the creatures on the other side. Within seconds they had evacuated to other rooms or fled further down the hall, leaving the infiltrators safe at last.

“Hurgh!! Gah! Consarn… alien plant… thing! LEGGO!!” Applejack strained against the web of vines that had coiled around her armor, slowly snapping the tendrils one by one.

“Darling, please. Relax before you hurt yourself.” Rarity’s power sword carefully dug its tip into the vines over her shoulder, searing them apart with gentle pulses of its disruption field. “Here, let me get you free.”

“Well that went pretty… good? This is good, right?” Rainbow Dash asked. “I mean there’s a big fire now and we’re pretty much still surrounded by the angry bug things, but this is progress!”

“I think Tellis went that way, though,” Fluttershy pointed out, shimmering into the visible spectrum to point toward the inferno. The fire hadn’t gone out, and in fact had spread with the addition of Tyranid bodies to burn through several supply crates and reach combustibles within. Many open panels on the wall and ceiling had also caught aflame, and sparks were frequently blasting out over the deck.

“We can just teleport over that, right?” Pinkie asked.

“I’d rather not teleport into unknown areas if I don’t absolutely have to. It’s not safe with all these aliens waiting in ambush and some areas are inaccessible and damaged,” Twilight noted. “We aren’t in so dire a situation that we need to take extra risks. This isn’t like the Space Hulk.”

“Agreed. I have conceived of an alternate route.” Gaela walked toward a blank bulkhead wall with a slit cut into it and reached a servo arm into the slot. “We’ll take this maintenance tunnel to a new section to bypass the fire. Sparkle, remain here with Pie. After we have secured the area you can teleport her through.” The servo arm ratcheted downward, and the entire bulkhead plate opened up to reveal a relatively small walkway laden with cabling over the ceiling.

“Okay, that looks good. Applejack, are you okay now?”

The farmer kicked away the last of the barbed vines while Rarity pried the seed pod off her armor mantle. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll take point. Yeesh.” She stomped over to the narrow pathway and slipped inside. The corridor was barely wide enough for the thickened plating of her armor suit, and the boltgun shells hanging on one shoulder pad scraped the walls frequently.

Gaela followed, and Rainbow eagerly jumped in after her. Rarity and Fluttershy clambered in after them, less eager to advance but not wanting to sit and wait next to the slowly spreading flames.

Rainbow Dash didn’t wait in silence for long. “So what’s going to happen to those little bugs now? As soon as the big ones died they all broke and ran! Ooh, is one of them going to grow up now to be a new queen, or something?”

“The Hormagaunt bioforms will remain feral until they are again within reach of the psychic hive mind extended through the Warriors,” Gaela explained. “The entire Tyranid army is a web of psionic conduits driving swarms of mindless, animalistic slaves. In practice it is similar to conventional systems of tactical command, but far more efficient and exploitable. Eliminating the largest command organism should always be the tactical priority.”

Fluttershy frowned, but remained silent.

Twilight’s question came next over the vox. “If there are really enough enemies on this ship that they couldn’t just fight them off during boarding, why didn’t they just leave and depressurize it? Can they not do that?”

“They can, if they’re willing to vent the entire vessel of atmosphere. It wouldn’t work, though,” Gaela explained. “Tyranids can hibernate in hard void if they are not adapted to it directly. It might have made clearing the infestation safer, however. I can’t be certain what protocols or technical restraints they’re operating under.”

“Are these critters some kinda common space bug ‘round the rest of the galaxy?” Applejack wondered.

“Not exactly ‘common,’ no. Tyranids are an invasive, voracious species of devourers that descend on star systems with the purpose of stripping them of all life and leaving the worlds behind as empty, barren husks.” Gaela ducked under a steaming pipe that was situated just low enough to bar her path forward. “If a Tyranid fleet had invaded Ghessheim we would have detected it on approach. The Blessed Redemption must have fled here from a different combat zone after being attacked and boarded.”

“Was there any point to us coming here if the ship is infested?” Rarity asked.

“Perhaps. Judging by the lockdown procedures I observed, it may be possible to man the ship’s batteries without engaging with the areas of the ship in quarantine.” Gaela stopped to observe a ruptured tube ahead, analyzing the leaking gas for corrosive properties before she continued. “Between the intensity of the attacks, the state of the vessel, and the number and estimated age of the bodies, I believe the Blessed Redemption was engaged with Tyranid bio-vessels and suffered multiple boarding actions before fleeing the combat zone. Efforts to purge the intruders collapsed, and the surviving crew managed to lock down much of the ship in quarantine before they made berth here. The Tyranids have spent days, at a minimum, wandering the underdecks hunting down the survivors and attempting to defeat the lockdown procedures.”

“Wow,” Twilight mumbled, “and I thought the daemons were bad.”

“Do you, uhm… think they’ll get on our ships?” Fluttershy asked.

“These ones? No. They won’t be leaving this vessel. I’ll be making sure of that.”

Applejack reached the end of the walkway, and then slammed a boot against the hatch door. “This’s it, right? Open up!”

“Stop that. You’ll alert the xenos,” Gaela commanded, leaning over the farmer. Her servo arm reached forward into the lock and clamped down, and with a twist of its pincer the hatch cracked open.

“Thanks, sugarcube. Now we-“

The hatch was suddenly wrenched open from the other side, and a long, serrated limb stabbed into the opening. The point struck Applejack on her back, carving a gouge in the top plating before sliding off and striking Gaela’s leg. Another limb reached into the opening just as quickly, and as Applejack recoiled in shock its claws swiped for her visor.

“LICTOR!!” Gaela snarled, shifting a servo arm over her shoulder. It clamped onto the long impaling limb as it tried to withdraw back outside.

“What in Sam Apple’s name is a Lictor?!” Applejack asked, bumping up against the Dark Techpriest.

The alien’s head peeked over the hatch door as if in response, giving her a good look at its face. Its skull was smaller and lacked the expanded brain case and broad, protective crest of the Warriors, but the most obvious and disturbing difference was that its head ended in a beard of dripping, prehensile tentacles rather than jaws. It reared back its hand again to strike.

Gaela brought her axe down on the scythe-limb, hacking through the segmented plating and reinforcing spine within. The Lictor wrenched backwards in response, missing its swipe at Applejack’s nose.

“Gaela, I can’t get a clear shot! Should we back up?!” Rarity asked in a panic, trying to squeeze to one side or another to see past the Dark Techpriest.

Applejack let out a sudden howl of rage and then bolted forward, ramming her shoulder into the hatch door. It swung wide open, smashing the Lictor aside and throwing it across the hall. The alien struck the deck and rolled, eventually screeching to a stop with its claws digging furrows into the metal deck plating. Applejack stumbled out of the tunnel, huffing angrily with fire leaking from her flamer’s mouth.

A snarl to her sides alerted her to two more Tyranids lying in wait. With barely a glance, Applejack snapped her gravity lash to her left, striking the Genestealer that was rushing to attack. She swung away, yanking the alien clean off its feet and sending it flailing into a second Genestealer on her other side. Applejack followed after them with an angry shout, swallowing them in fire.

Gaela emerged after the farmer, her focus locked onto the Lictor. The creature was nearly twice the height of a human, with thick, powerful arms and legs and a hefty tail. Nearly as long as the entire alien was tall was the mantis-like talon that emerged from the Lictor’s shoulders; part of a pair, until it had stuck one where it wasn’t wanted.

A heavy laser fired from Gaela’s harness, and the Tyranid shifted to the side with uncanny speed to evade the sweeping crimson beam. It bunched up its legs, and its remaining shoulder talon chambered itself in preparation to strike.

Rainbow Dash blasted out of the maintenance tunnel like a missile, nearly knocking Gaela off her feet with the backwash. The Lictor pounced, and pony met alien in a frantic mid-air collision.

The Lictor was caught off-guard by the impact. Rainbow wasn’t. After smashing her shoulder into the xeno, she hit one of her impulse thrusters and propelled her face into the Lictor’s, stunning it. Both of them landed on the deck and rolled, but the Tyranid’s many limbs flailed and cracked against the impact while Rainbow bounced up into the air again.

“Ninja stars to the FACE!” the pegasus announced, putting words to action as soon as her movement stabilized. The shuriken catapult fired a spread of blades into the Lictor’s head, slicing through the thin carapace and reducing it to a mess of shredded pulp and oozing ichor.

By the time Rarity took her first step into the hall, plasma gun and power sword hovering overhead, the Tyranids were dead. She glanced at the twitching corpse of the Lictor, and then over at the pyre where the Genestealers cooked.

“Ah. Well. Good job, ladies,” she said curtly, mag-locking her sword to her back again. “Area secured, then?” Fluttershy crept out after her, flickering back into the visible spectrum.

“I’m detecting a few Hormagaunts in the adjacent rooms, but nothing we have to worry about. Form a perimeter.” Gaela glanced at the deck, and a micro laser from her optical array painted a spot on the floor. “Sparkle, we’re clear. Submitting telemetry data now.”

Purple sparks flashed around the designated point, and then after a few seconds Pinkie’s Dreadnought appeared in a flash. Twilight followed, bounding out of the light distortion with her force harmonizer at the ready.

“Can somepony else take point next time?” Applejack asked, stomping back to her friends. “These Tyranid critters keep goin’ fer mah face.” A trio of new slash marks decorated the front of her helmet, running across the nose and cutting over one of the visor lenses.

“All right, but just once. And be careful with that flamer!” Twilight agreed. “Gaela, where to next?”

The Dark Techpriest scanned the area. This hall was larger than the last, with numerous damaged maglev carts and smashed crates scattered about. One path led deeper into the underdecks, and was marked by inoperative lumens and the echoing snarl of lost aliens. The opposite direction, on the other hand…

“This way. There’s another blast door and cogitator ahead.” Gaela started heading in that direction, and the pounding footsteps of the Contemptor Dreadnought soon followed.

The other ponies did as well, but they were more hesitant. “Awful lotta bodies down there,” Applejack mumbled.

The halls were riddled with blood, burns, impact deformations, and partially-eaten corpses. Tyranid Warriors that had been cannibalized by smaller bio-forms lay against large scorched sections of wall. Burnt-out circuitry fizzled in the bulkheads, exposed by the claws of furious aliens or stray autocannon rounds. Dropped and broken wargear was strewn about among piles of gore and splintered bone.

Every one of the mares could recognize the remnants of a desperate, pitched battle by now.

“So… who do ya think won?” Applejack mumbled.

“That depends greatly upon which side of the blast doors one was on before they closed,” Gaela said. “What’s most interesting to me is how recently this battle occurred. The corpses from before had been there for about a week. These were killed within the last twenty-four hours.”

“What’s most interesting to ME is that there are a lot more dead Tyranids here than we’ve had to face so far,” Rarity retorted. “How many of these monsters are there?”

“Not so many that the idea of clearing them via kill teams was deemed obviously impossible,” the cyborg replied. “But enough that they failed.”

The blast doors at the end of the hall were covered with deep slashes and stains from a variety of weapons and bodies that had been dashed against them, but they remained intact. Huge armored bands centered around hefty magnetic locks sealed the blast doors tight, ensuring that no amount of simple biological muscle or acid that could reasonably fit within the corridors would be able to breach them. To a Techpriest, on the other hand, conquering the obstacle would be a matter of minutes.

Gaela removed a man’s upper torso from the cogitator next to the door, pushing it off the row of input keys. The console was quite dirty, but undamaged except for a large hole on one side of the monitor screen.

“Do you need a boost again?” Pinkie Pie chirped.

“Negative. This console is powered,” Gaela mumbled, leaning over it and snaking a mechadendrite into a data port. “There may be other impediments to our progress, however.”

“Ya mean the door?” Applejack pressed a boot against the massive barrier, leaning her weight against it.

“Again, negative. I can open the door.” Gaela tapped away at the keyboard, and the monitor turned on and started streaming raw data. Every few seconds it would flicker and turn to static briefly, but the machine largely worked despite the damage. “… As I thought. We have a bigger problem.”

“More Tyranids?” Rainbow asked eagerly.

“Worse. Humans,” Gaela spat.

The monitor screen sparked briefly before displaying several smaller windows with vid-captures. The images were grainy, and the damage to the monitor made some of them unintelligible, but they were unmistakably showing groups of soldiers planted behind heavy weapons or moving crates through the halls.

“Well, so much for ‘minimal or no opposition.’ How does this keep happening?” Rarity groaned.

“How many guys are there?” Pinkie Pie asked, leaning her walker over to try and get a better look.

“Enough to hold this access point against a xeno strike force were it to break through,” Gaela grunted, bringing up new vid screens. “This is the main thoroughfare connecting this section of the underdecks to the rest of the ship. Most of the other access points have been sealed off. I expect they are mined as well. This is intended to be the primary muster point for the kill teams sweeping the ship of xenos and is fortified appropriately.”

“So I guess Pinkie goes in first this time?” Rainbow asked.

“That’s a lot of heavy weaponry, Dash,” Twilight mumbled. “Like I said earlier I’d rather not teleport us through the ship, but it may be the only way to get past those barricades.”

“Wait, but what about Tellis?” Rainbow asked. “He’d be cut off down here!”

“Well he should have thought of that before he decided to endanger all of us by jumping in to begin with!” the Princess retorted. “If the only way forward is through magic or through ordnance, I choose magic!”

“They’ll detect the energy surge, of course,” Gaela said, closing the vid screens. “But it’s preferable to-“

An angry screech echoed through the dimly-lit halls.

Sickle-clawed Hormagaunts raced through the dark, hissing and snarling while their hooves pounded across the deck. The aliens sprinted down the hall without clear direction, leaping on top of crates and searching left and right constantly. Some of the swarm broke off into the open rooms that lined the hallways. Most of the Tyranids, however, clambered toward the squad of boarders near the blast doors.

A shot from Pinkie’s butcher cannon sailed into the group, and one of the aliens vanished into a puff of ichor and shattered chitin. The aliens scattered, shrieking angrily. Most of them started flooding into the open rooms, while others veered around and ran back where they came from. A few just sped up, racing toward the pirates with their heads down.

“What’s going on? They’re not acting like before!” Rarity hit one of the oncoming aliens with a plasma blast, reducing the entire front half of the creature to a molten lump.

“There’s no synapse creature! They’re not being controlled!” Gaela announced as she cut down another with her laser. “They’re panicking. Slaughter these beasts and our way is clear.”

Twilight and Applejack started marching forward, ready to finish off the last few aliens at short range. Then a pleading shout from behind stopped them short.

“No! Wait! Stop shooting!”

Fluttershy flew over the other mares, landing in front of an utterly perplexed Applejack. The Hormagaunts rushing forward started to slow their approach, raising their heads and scything talons into an attack stance.

“Please, calm down! It’s okay!” Fluttershy’s helmet broke open with a hiss, revealing the mare’s pleading, sorrowful expression.

Four Tyranids had survived the sprint toward the boarding party, and they stopped in front of Fluttershy with their talons extended and teeth bared, as if they were going to pounce. But they didn’t pounce.

“You must be so scared. You don’t know where you are or why. But you don’t have to be afraid anymore.” Fluttershy shook her head, and then smiled softly.

The Hormagaunts stopped hissing and lowered their talons, blinking at Fluttershy and sniffing the air.

Then an ion bolt slammed into one of them, and it died shrieking in pain.

“Gaela!” Fluttershy whirled around while the other Tyranids recoiled and snarled. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m slaying the wretched alien,” the cyborg replied, sounding slightly confused. “Why aren’t the rest of you shooting? There are still more targets.”

“Fluttershy asked us to stop that, darling,” Rarity chided, wagging an armored hoof at the Dark Techpriest. “Incredibly, it looks like she has this under control.”

“… And we’re NOT going to use this opportunity to kill them? Why?” Gaela demanded.

By this point the remaining Tyranids were huddling around Fluttershy, sensing that the pegasus was protecting them. One of them crept cautiously toward Applejack, while the others nuzzled the wings of Fluttershy’s flight pack.

“Okay, Gaela, think of it this way,” Twilight sighed. “If Fluttershy has them pacified then it would be a waste of time and energy to kill them, wouldn’t it? You didn’t kill US when we met, and we’re aliens to you!”

“You are not Tyranids,” Gaela replied coldly. “They are mindless devourers, and cannot be left alive lest they fall under the sway of some other synapse node and regain their usual disposition.”

“They are NOT mindless!” Fluttershy protested. “They’re not like the bigger ones! They’re just frightened! They won’t hurt us if we don’t hurt them!”

“They also won’t hurt us if we hurt them first.” Gaela’s laser started to heat up, and the aliens jumped at the high-pitched whine coming from her harness.

“Gaelaaaa…” Fluttershy’s voice carried just a hint of a growl, and she stepped forward while the Hormagaunts cowered.

“Don’t think to give me orders, pony,” Gaela replied, her voice like ice.

“WHOOOOOOOOO!!! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD, BABY!!”

The tension was utterly ruined by the delighted shout, and was followed by an agonized screech. Fluttershy whirled around again and Gaela finally took her attention away from the surrounding Tyranids. The Hormagaunts immediately panicked. One of them curled up into a ball next to Fluttershy, while another jumped into a crate to hide. The last one, which had been in an uneasy staring contest with Applejack, dashed around the farmer to take cover behind her.

Another swarm of Hormagaunts came rushing through the halls. Again, most branched off into adjacent rooms to hide, but the bulk rushed straight down the hall toward the boarding team.

“Against the wall! Quick! Get out of the way!” Fluttershy ordered, jumping aside.

The others followed suit, including the apparently tamed Hormagaunts. The rush of incoming Tyranids paid them no mind, sprinting up to the blast doors and clawing at them desperately.

“Ha ha ha ha ha!! C’mere you!” howled Tellis, his voice followed by the roar of his flight pack.

A pair of Genestealers sprinted into the hall, one of them bleeding badly from the stumps of its right arms. Tellis rocketed into the intersection after them, slamming into the injured Tyranid and throwing it onto the floor.

“Blood for BLOOD GOD!!” Tellis emphasized the last syllable by stomping a boot on the alien’s head, reducing it to a dark smear across the deck.

Then he blasted forward again, catching the other Genestealer by seizing it by the back of its swollen head. “Skulls for the SKULL THRONE!!”

With a grunt of effort, he twisted the alien’s head off. The Genestealer’s death shriek was cut off by the sharp crack of splintering chitin, and its arms flailed about comically for several seconds until the decapitated body collapsed.

“So, Twilight,” Rarity mumbled, staring nervously at the dozens of Hormagaunts clawing at the blast doors right in front of her. “How about that teleport? Would now be a good time?”

“Hey! There you guys are!” Tellis leaned over the Genestealer corpse and quickly drew the Mark of Khorne onto the deck with its blood. “Man, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Our armor signums aren’t obscured. You can detect our direction at will,” Gaela pointed out.

“Okay fine, so I only realized that you weren’t following along behind me just now. Whatever.” Tellis dropped the Genestealer head onto the Chaos Mark, and the gore-smeared rune started to glow with eldritch light. The Chaos Lord stood up again and pointed down the hall at the clustered smaller Tyranids. “Hey, you gonna kill that or can I have it?”

“No! Don’t!” Fluttershy jumped into the middle of the hall, her flight pack spread. “We don’t need to fight the little ones! It’s okay! They won’t hurt us!”

A series of rapid clicking noises and gentle hisses came from the Hormagaunts, and slowly they seemed to calm down. The ones clawing uselessly at the blast doors finally stopped, and the swarm started milling about nervously rather than scrambling to get away. Several more Tyranids poked their heads out of the nearby rooms, gently tapping their claws on the deck and sniffing the air.

Tellis looked back and forth between the pony and the aliens. “So I guess Fluttershy can control Tyranids now. Neat!”

“I strongly object to this turn of events,” Gaela added. Her servo arms were still spread wide in attack position, although at this point there were so many targets it probably wouldn’t have helped.

“Fluttershy, are you… SURE you have them under control?” Twilight asked.

“Yes. They won’t hurt us,” the pegasus insisted. One of the Hormagaunts hissed gently and nuzzled against her shoulder pad. “They seem… well, lost. They had a voice guiding them and it… uh… died.” She winced as more clicking and hissing noises came from the aliens. “Died painfully. I think they felt it. The shock was terrifying for them.”

“Yeah, that was me. Stabbed a lot of those big bastards on the way here. My bad,” Tellis volunteered.

“No, not bad. Good. Very good,” Rainbow corrected.

More of the Hormagaunts were creeping out of the nearby rooms now, slowly trotting down the hall toward Fluttershy while giving Tellis a wide berth. Twilight brought up a body count on her visor screen, and couldn’t help but gulp when she saw the counter rise above seventy targets and continue ticking up.

“So… we have a bunch of alien pets now! Cool! What are we gonna do?” Pinkie Pie asked cheerfully.

“We’re getting rid of them,” Gaela said firmly.

“What? No! Please, don’t kill them!” Fluttershy pleaded. The Tyranids sensed her agitation and started snarling, and dozens of scythe blades rose to threaten to the pirate boarders.

“The moment a Warrior bio-form stumbles within range the swarm will be back under the hive mind’s control and they’ll turn on us. Your tiresome empathy toward lower life forms is no match for the will of the Tyranids’ gestalt consciousness,” Gaela explained, walking toward the blast doors. The Hormagaunts parted in front of her, hissing angry threats and swiping their claws through the air. “However… it need not be us that slays them.”

“Oh HO! I see where you’re going with this!” Rainbow Dash said, doing a backflip in the air. “Awesome!”

“Ah. You want to… Okay.” Twilight watched Gaela reach the lock and then clamp her servo arms around it. “I guess we’re going straight through the defenses after all.”

“What? You mean…” Fluttershy looked pensively at the Hormagaunts crowding around her and calmly waiting for her direction. After being pacified the aliens acted more like trained animals than wild beasts, creating a slowly rotating perimeter of blades and chitin around their new mistress and eyeing the others with suspicion. “Do we… have to?” the pegasus asked, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“We’re not taking the xenos back with us,” Gaela said, her tone leaving no possibility of argument. “They’re not going to survive this mission. So at the least they should die to our benefit, fighting against our mutual enemies.”

“Could someone fill me in on these mutual enemies? I just got here,” Tellis asked.

“There’re a bunch of fellers dug in on the other side o’ this thang,” Applejack said.

“And we want to kill these aforementioned fellers?”

“By hurlin’ all of Flutter’s new creepy bug friends at ‘em, yeah.”

“I am SO glad I joined this mission!” Tellis cheered, pumping his arms in the air. “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!”

Author's Note

Geez, these chapters are getting long.

Anywayz someone mentioned recently that Fluttershy hasn't gotten to do anything awesome recently and I thought being instrumental in taking down a daemon lord was pretty cool but I guess he had a point so now she has Friendship Synapse.
You're welcome.

Redemption Denied

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 3
Redemption Denied

Space station Eschel
Deck 36-C, weapons hub

The heavy bolter thundered the moment the gunner glimpsed movement, spitting a torrent of mass-reactive shells down the length of the hallway. The bolts crashed against a wall of thick, folded adamantium already pitted from impacts and scorched by laser blasts. The boarding shield pushed forward against the tide of ammunition, propelled by heavy greaves laden with chains and spikes. The rectangular slot sized for a boltgun was empty; its bearer didn’t bother trying to fire his weapon while he closed with the defense emplacement.

The Iron Warrior’s shield had nearly come apart by the time he reached the gun, with several holes large enough for subsequent rounds to pass through. He used it as a club to smash the heavy bolter aside, and then his chainsword descended on the terrified gunner.

Lasblasts splashed across the Marine’s armor along with fans of blood as the men behind the gunner opened fire. A few of the defenders hurled grenades instead, and the Astartes couldn’t push his way past his first victim in time to avoid them. The frag grenades exploded, and the Chaos Space Marine fell with an enraged snarl.

Behind him was another Iron Warrior. But bigger, with long talons, a pair of servo arms mounting scythe blades over his shoulders, and flames sprouting from his palms.

“Iron within,” Dest intoned while the Warpflame swirled into a sphere between his claws, “iron without.”

The fireball exploded in the middle of the defenders, and a half dozen men perished within the coruscating flames. One of the soldiers flung himself to the deck in time to avoid the worst of it, and he scrambled around a corner before pushing himself to his feet.

“We can’t hold them!” the man gasped, sprinting down the narrow corridor connecting the hall to the gunnery cloister. “Help! Let me in!”

He fell against the thick, armored door to the cloister, pulling fruitlessly on the hatch access latch. “Please! In the Emperor’s name, open up! They’ll kill us all! Don’t leave us out-“

A metal hand with fingers like a raptor’s talons fell upon the man’s shoulder, and his breath caught in his throat. The gauntlet didn’t squeeze him, nor did the claws pierce his armored jacket.

“You’re in the way. Move,” Dest commanded.

The soldier slowly shifted to the side, his body quivering under the Iron Warrior’s touch. When he reached the bulkhead he flattened his back against it, whispering prayers under his breath. Dest took his hand off the man and turned toward the cloister hatch. He pulled an arm back, tendons popping and ceramite cracking, and his talons grew together and formed a thick, sword-like wedge wrapped in a sheathe of seething crimson.

He plunged his claw into the door, tearing through the lock and punching through to the other side. He wrenched his arm back out, and then briefly inspected the hole. He had torn through the lock on this side of the door, but the cloister hatch still wouldn’t budge. Most likely bar locks secured it from the other side.

Dest turned back to the soldier, who was still frozen in place. His non-blade hand reached for the man’s belt, taking the single frag grenade next to his laspistol and tugging it free.

“Thank you,” he said politely, flicking away the pin. Then he shoved the grenade into the hole in the door.

Dest turned away from the gunnery cloister, ignoring the panicked shouts and subsequent detonation. There were two more Iron Warriors waiting at the end of the corridor, and one spoke up as he approached.

“Brother Helkan is wounded. He cannot run, but the injuries are not mortal.”

Dest beckoned to the Astartes that had spoken. “Brother Danan, you and I will move on to the next cloister. Brother Herros, we have a prisoner. Escort him and Helkan back to the docks.”

“You’ll need more support,” growled the second Chaos Marine.

“These defense points are nothing. They cannot stop me. But I’d rather not have to kill the prisoner. He’s been quite cooperative so far.” Dest chuckled, speeding up down the hall. “Hurry, brothers! The guns are not yet silent! Eschel will soon be ours!”

Space station Eschel
Command deck

“This is all that’s left, then?”

“Well, not quite, Lord Director. There’s a number of squads who were cut off from their path of retreat when the fallback order came. I estimate there are some sixty men stuck outside of our lines of control.”

“Those lines are shifting rapidly. The Astartes kill teams have penetrated deep into the fortress to hit the gunnery cloisters, and they’re still on the move. Half the bombardment turrets are inactive.”

“They also struck the generator room early and managed to choke off the power supply to our lance batteries. They haven’t shut down power entirely, though; they must expect to control the whole station soon or they would have disabled it entirely to weaken our remaining defenses.”

“And for that, they can only have one target in mind,” lamented the Director Primus. “This room.”

The Director Primus of the space station Eschel looked down from his command throne at the ranks of young men and women standing at attention below him. The throne was positioned on a raised platform, looking down over a grand hallway on one side and the many control terminals of the command center on the other.

Nearly one hundred soldiers were crammed shoulder to shoulder in the grand hall, each of them wearing pressurized boarding suits or heavy combat armor. Another twenty or so injured were lined up on the wall next to them, and more were still being carried in from outside. These ones bore all manner of injuries from missing limbs to hideous burns, and some had perished a short time after being carried to safety, lying still on the deck while the other troopers pointedly ignored them. Outside the command center another two dozen soldiers manned the emplaced guns and barricades that protected the station’s nerve center. It was a formidable bulwark, and a much greater concentration of military force than was established anywhere else in the station, but it would not be enough. Not against Space Marines.

“Friends and fellow servants of the almighty Emperor,” the Director intoned, “today our home is threatened by the insidious and traitorous forces of the Great Enemy… Chaos. These treacherous cowards and corrupted filth advance on us even now, seeking to take Eschel for their own profane purposes.”

He stood up from his command throne, shaking a fist in the air and clenching his teeth. “Our enemy has struck a fierce blow, but he is WEAK. He attacks from hiding, masquerading as a humble trader out of fear of the Imperium’s might!”

A pair of soldiers entered the command center while he spoke, helping along another soldier to get to the line of injured defenders. The Sergeant seemed lightly wounded, but he clutched his abdomen tenderly as he was laid against the wall.

“The enemy is coming for us, my brothers. But they will suffer greatly to take this prize. And then, when they’ve climbed over the bodies of their allies and slogged through an ocean of blood to reach this throne, that prize shall be DENIED them!” The Director nodded at his aide. “This room will be armed with melta charges. The Planetary Governor has been warned of this treachery and is even now mobilizing to protect our cities. Our patrol fleets have called for aid and are regrouping for a counter attack that will wipe out this plague once and for all!”

He lowered his fist again, sneering. “But to fulfill our duty and foil these villains, we must hold the line! Today may well see us called to the Emperor’s side, but we fall as martyrs! Eschel belongs to the Emperor and it will die in His service!” His voice shook, and he turned his face skyward, speaking to the ranks like a preacher. “Death to the heretics! For the Imperium of-“

Several terrified shouts came from the side of the room, interrupting the director, and the ranks of troops were briefly illuminated by a flash of green light. The men turned to see what was wrong, and the Director Primus stopped to see what had warranted the sudden panic.

Chrysalis took a step toward the stunned soldiers, sighing in contentment. Her body was that of a Chaos Terminator, boasting thick plating of servo-assisted armor, a pair of oversized flamers, and a servo arm tipped with a skull at the end arched over her back. Her helmet visor pulsed a strange, fluorescent green, while a jagged black horn extended from the forehead. It was a restrained body, considering the many larger options her warforms offered her, but the changeling queen still relished the raw power surging through her with even the slightest movement.

The soldiers were already leaping into action, most of them turning their weapons onto the intruder while others started sprinting for cover. Chrysalis simply spread her arms apart and fired.

Huge waves of fire blasted into the soldiers, knocking over the closest ones and washing through the rest of the ranks. Chrysalis brought her arms together, blanketing the entire lobby area in flame, and then spread them out again while she pushed the mimicked weapons to their limit. A few laser blasts splashed against her armor from either side, but she ignored them as easily as any true Terminator would.

“Okay, I admit it. I’m really enjoying this! This part of the slavery thing is kind of fun!” Chrysalis cackled as the inferno grew in front of her, spreading further among the scattering troops. She couldn’t make anything out anymore between the dancing flames and flailing bodies, so she finally let her weapons rest and turned toward the command center proper.

She spotted an aide fumbling with an extinguisher-sized melta charge, and the skull at the end of her servo arm opened its jaws. A laser beam emerged and pierced the woman’s leg, and she screamed and fell before dropping the charge on its side.

“Ah, ah, ah…” Chrysalis reached out with her levitation magic while she approached the woman and sent the bomb rolling into the flames behind her. Laser fire continued to crack against her armor, but it wasn’t nearly concentrated enough to pose a threat.

Her left arm flashed green, and then shifted from a flamer to a power fist. Chrysalis grabbed the woman by her arm and then hoisted her up, staring directly into her wide, terrified eyes.

“Which of these gadgets controls the weapons?” the changeling asked, nudging her head in the direction of the many control consoles. Her visor flashed, and the green light was reflected in the aide’s eyes a moment later.

The woman’s arm jerked upward like a marionette, pointing rigidly to one section of the banks of consoles within the control center. After a moment she seemed to realize what she was doing, and she pulled her arm back to her side.

An alarm klaxon blared, and suddenly jets of white mist erupted from the ceiling panels. The fire suppression system fought valiantly against the blaze in the lobby strategium, and smothered the fires that were threatening to spread further into the command center.

Chrysalis glanced backward. “Hmm. For the best, I suppose. The apes did say they wanted this place intact.”

A pair of plasma bolts rocketed from the shroud of mist. The first barely scraped Chrysalis’s shoulder pad in a near-miss, but another struck her square in the back, burning deep into the plating. The changeling staggered, struggling to hold her transformation against the surging pain.

A soldier in a scorched but intact boarding suit dashed out of the flames and mist, his plasma gun crackling while it charged the next shot. Chrysalis turned to spot the interloper, and then hurled the woman at him, knocking them both back into the vortex of anti-reactant tincture and burning promethium.

“Have to watch out for those glowing weapons,” Chrysalis grumbled, her arms shifting again. Each hand stretched into a rotary barrel, while ammo feeds snaked under her elbows to attach to a pair of ammunition drums appearing behind her shoulder pads.

The assault cannons roared into action, cutting across the room and into the shrouds of fire suppressant. Everywhere a lasblast emerged was swept by a punishing hail of bullets, tearing apart the survivors of her initial attack.

Another lasblast cut across her visor from her left side, and Chrysalis half turned to identify the source. Several of the station crew were sheltering behind their control centers and cogitator banks, armed with laspistols. Her servo arm aimed toward the man who had taken the shot, but then Chrysalis hesitated.

Rather than firing, she started walking into the control pits. Her helmet swiveled left and right, and her visor outlined and tagged each of the men and women cowering from her. Chrysalis walked past the one who had shot her, offering only an irritated snort.

“I believe I got all of the fighters, or drove them into the halls. I needn’t soil my hands killing simple workers. You may yet be of use…” She smiled behind her helmet, her unfamiliar face stretching into an amused sneer. “Let’s see…”

The changeling queen turned her assault cannons – still leaking smoke from the withering barrage she had unleashed earlier – back into talon-tipped gauntlets. Then she reached down and pulled a technician out into the open.

Once again, Chrysalis stared into the terrified eyes of the hapless human, and her visor flashed a bright green. “Seal the entrance to this room,” she commanded. An arc of green energy ran up and down her horn, crackling as it leapt across the gaps in the malformed ceramite.

The man stiffened, and one of his fingers started groping toward a particular console. Chrysalis put him down and then stomped off, walking toward the weapons command cogitator that had been identified earlier.

Another pair of lasblasts cracked against her back, and damage markers briefly flashed over her visor. She ignored them, briefly regretting that she hadn’t spent any time practicing with her warforms since she had been tested back at Ferrous Dominus. All kinds of runes and markers flickered confusingly across her visor, and she had only the slightest idea of what any of it meant. The modifications Solon had made had granted her power beyond her imagination, but ultimately they did not impart competence or understanding. Regretful, but Chrysalis supposed even the Warsmith’s devices had limits.

She reached down under the cogitator and pulled another command technician out onto the deck. The woman stared up at the massive armored form, quivering in fear as her eyes locked onto the glowing green visor.

“Lock down all the station’s weapons,” Chrysalis commanded, her magic sinking deep into the woman’s psyche. The pulsing glow of her visor was reflected in the technician’s eyes, but for a few seconds the changeling’s victim resisted.

The sound of a plasma discharge came from behind Chrysalis, and the crackling energy blast struck the weapons technician, incinerating much of her body instantly. Chrysalis recoiled and then spun on her heel, turning just in time to catch a second shot in the side of her chest. She gasped and staggered, feeling the searing plasma burn into her armor and start to eat into the frame.

“Emperor deliver us from your evil, heretic!” The Director Primus dashed across the upper deck of the command center, a plasma pistol poised over the guard railing and a short power sword in his other hand.

The servo arm turned to intercept the old man, but in a shocking display of agility he vaulted over the guard railing right over Chrysalis, making a long downward slash with his blade. The skull’s jaw opened, only for the head to be suddenly severed in burst of sparks and blue lightning. The Director landed in front of Chrysalis, and then leapt back when she swiped at him with a claw.

Chrysalis snarled angrily, and her arms flashed with magical light. Weapons schema swam through her thoughts, offering glimpses of dozens of tools of destruction at her metaphorical fingertips: power fists, chain blades, autocannons, laser arrays, disintegration spindles, plasma culverins, and melta torches all flashed before her eyes.

Apparently her attention wandered a moment too long. The Director fired another plasma shot into her chest plate, and then slashed at her arm with his power sword. The blade bit into the glowing armor, digging deep into the flesh while it was in a state of change and not fully hardened to its edge. The plasma bolt burned through the chest armor, searing the queen’s core. An angry shriek came from Chrysalis as she recoiled, and green smoke started rising from her shoulder pads and cowling.

“What in the name of Terra?” the Director retreated out of arm’s reach, watching in fascination as his opponent seemed to boil away before his eyes. Green whips of energy lashed and crackled across the armor suit, and plates and joints sizzled away into a teal-colored mist.

After a few seconds the rest of the massive Terminator simply collapsed, leaving behind a black, hole-ridden, four-legged creature clutching her chest and clenching her needle-sharp teeth angrily. Words failed the Director Primus, but his instincts brought his plasma pistol up to finish off the bizarre alien.

Chrysalis struck first, launching a jolt of energy with a bright flash of her horn and an enraged snarl. The Director reeled, and his subsequent shot went wide, landing the plasma bolt in a console.

“What is that? What happened to the traitor?”

“Xeno scum! Kill it!”

Chrysalis scrambled away as the crew started emerging from their hiding places. Some were brandishing laspistols, while others were taking up improvised weapons or sprinting for the lobby to scavenge a gun from the dead. She leapt into the air as a dart of crimson slashed by her leg, and her wings started buzzing desperately to carry her toward a large bank of auxiliary datastacks.

Two more lasblasts followed her, one of them striking her leg and burning a fresh hole through it. Chrysalis shrieked and dropped behind the wall of thrumming metal hives, landing out of sight of the defenders.

“Arm yourselves, men! Neither heretic nor alien will escape our wrath!” The Director raced after the changeling queen, smoke still rising from his chest where the magic bolt had struck. “Emperor deliver us from the perfidious witchcraft of the fallen horrors of the void, and the darkness within the hearts of curs and heretics!”

The Director reached the datastacks and jumped past them, his plasma pistol already humming while it cooked its next shot within its micro-fusion reactor. His shoe hit the deck and he turned on his heel.

“Yeek!” a woman in the dress of a aide flinched away, shielding her chest with her arms. She appeared to be pinned to the spot with a patch of strange green slime that covered her legs and stuck them to the floor.

The Director whirled around, glancing between the other humming metal towers. There were many spots to hide in this area of the control center, but he saw no hint of his quarry. “Blast! Where did it flee to?”

“She ducked under there, I think!” the woman on the floor pointed toward a corner of the data hives that was almost untouched by the flickering lumens. “She shot me with this… this SLIME and fled into the shadows!”

The Director took a step in the direction she pointed, and then glanced back at the woman. “She? The monster is female?”

“What? Of course she is. You couldn’t tell?” the aide asked, sounding slightly offended. “Not that it matters, of course. She’s getting away!”

The Director frowned, still staring at the woman. She was still holding one arm over her chest, clutching it tightly. “Are you wounded? You said it fired that slime at you.”

Chrysalis bit her lip, silently cursing the man’s eye for attention. She’d been worried he’d realize that the aide she was mimicking had been thrown aside while setting up the melta charge and probably killed, but it had been her wound that caught his eye. With her core damaged she didn’t have the energy to take on any bodies that were particularly large or powerful and with the Director’s attention on her she wouldn’t have the time to shift bodies anyway. More of the command crew were arriving behind the old man as well, nervously clutching laspistols. The situation had become untenable.

An explosion came from the entry hall.

“They’re here,” the Director snarled, promptly turning around and striding back into the command center proper. The crew rushed after him, leaving the bewildered changeling lying on the ground where they found her. “They’ll try to cut through to inflict minimal damage. We have minutes at the most!”

Something struck the blast doors, and the thick metal bowed inward. The locks creaked, straining under the tremendous force.

“Lord Director, they’re not cutting through,” a weapons officer said, his voice shaking as another impact struck the doors. “The soldiers are dead. We cannot-“

“Do not cower in the face of the wicked!” the Director shouted, striding up to the upper level that held his command throne. “Those that deny the glory of the Emperor will find no safety or succor within the halls of Eschel! This is our sacred oath!”

Twice more something struck the doors, snapping the internal locks. One of the plates was bent open far enough for a man to squeeze through, but the blows kept coming.

“Divine Emperor, deliver us from the perfidious heretic!” the Director prayed, his plasma pistol charging in his hand. “Holy Emperor, deliver us from the corruption of the xeno!”

The hammer blows kept coming, and the opening kept widening. Through the haze of the fire suppressant and the dim section lighting it was hard to get a good look at what waited on the other side, but a faint glint of gold was visible through the breach.

“Emperor be my shield, and I shall be thy sword!” the Director proclaimed, aiming his pistol toward the door. The remaining crew moved into covered positions, crouching behind railings, supports, and strategium tables while propping up their weapons. “In faith, we stand before the wretched traitors! In righteousness, we smite their vile pawns! In glory, we-“

An orb of swirling green arced up over the command platform, slamming into his back. The old man shouted in surprise as he was flung into and over the railing, tumbling some ten feet to the lower deck of the command center. The fall wasn’t fatal, but the moment he struck the floor the orb exploded, plastering a web of adhesive slime over his arms and legs.

Several of the crew spun around to see what had happened, only to see a shining emerald glow fade away around a bank of cogitators and a jagged black horn duck out of sight.

Another impact slammed into the blast doors, and a moment later the first Iron Warrior stepped into Eschel’s command center.

“My Lord, the command center is… largely pacified,” the Chaos Marine grumbled, stepping over the charred corpses dusted with white tincture.

A few lasblasts came from the other end of the entry lobby to crack against his armor, and he answered them with a single bolter shot. A defender was blasted apart, spraying the two technicians next to him with gore and shrapnel.

More Iron Warriors entered the command center, each one pausing to behold the carnage that had preceded them. After the fifth Astartes stomped into the room, a particularly large armored figure ducked through the ruined blast doors.

“Foul heretics!” sputtered the immobilized Director, his fingers twitching toward the plasma pistol lying inches away from his hand. “Show them no quarter, men! Slay them all!”

Sliver strode through the command center, heedlessly crushing the fallen defenders underfoot with each step. His hammer was held loosely at his side, still sparking from the many strikes that had been necessary to batter through the doors. A few laser shots lashed out at the hulk of disease-ridden armor, but he ignored them as easily as the curling mists of the fire suppressant.

“Sseize them.” Sliver lifted his hammer to gesture vaguely at the command center while he approached it. “Take them all alive. We have no oppossition here.” The Iron Warriors rushed past him to comply, and more troops started flooding into the room.

The Commander’s greaves kicked something aside while he advanced, and Sliver glanced down just long enough to identify a damaged heavy melta charge. He didn’t bother stopping, heading straight for the trapped Director Primus. Once he reached the Director he spun his hammer about so that it was upside-down and then let it fall to the deck, crushing the dropped plasma weapon under its head. He rested his arm on the butt of the hammer, silently peering down at the elderly man through the glowering lens of his helmet.

“Vile traitor! Though your treachery has won you Eschel, you will NEVER rule Ghessheim!” the old man spat.

“Fine,” Sliver said calmly. He looked up, his helmet slowly scanning back and forth while the other Iron Warriors subdued and restrained the crew. “Wass there ssomeone elsse here? There’ss quite a messs.”

A buzzing noise came from above, and Chrysalis landed atop the Director’s command throne. “Yes, hi. I’m here.” She brushed a hoof against the ruby core in her chest, and then winced when a spark of energy erupted from the brief contact. “My plan worked. You’re welcome.”

Sliver craned his head up and spent a few seconds observing the changeling queen. “… Eschel’ss gunss have not completely fallen ssilent. And you appear to be wounded.”

“Things got a little hectic after I cooked the small army that you’re standing on right now. Sorry,” Chrysalis grumbled, and then shifted uncomfortably, lifting her back hoof. “And yes, I took a few hits. One of these pests shot a hole through my leg!”

Sliver said nothing, still staring up at her.

“Yeah, okay, I know,” Chrysalis snapped, “but still! Those lasers can really hurt!”

A pair of Dark Techpriests scurried toward the control center while the Iron Warriors trudged the other way, dragging along their captives. Sliver briefly nodded to the cyborgs, and then hefted his hammer over his shoulder, mag-locking it onto a pair of braces on his back.

“Ssilence, inssect. Your tassk iss complete.” Sliver pointed at the Director. “Free thiss one.”

Chrysalis hopped over to the edge of the upper platform, looking over the railing. “He still has his sword, though.” The weapon was glued against the deck along with the rest of the man’s arm, but it hadn’t been knocked free of his grip like the pistol.

“Free thiss one,” Sliver said again. “Do not make me command you thrice.”

With an annoyed huff, Chrysalis fired another beam of magic down at the Director Primus. The slime covering him immediately dried and shriveled, crumbling to pale dust underneath him.

“Emperor take you, daemonic filth,” the old man snarled, pushing himself to his feet.

Sliver watched the man rise from the deck and take his power sword in a double-handed grip. “Director Primuss Issen Von Kerrig. Watch thiss man, inssect. Obsserve hiss movementss and hear hiss futile lamentationss. Make them your own.”

“Though I stand in the shadow of heresy and the alien I fear not,” Director Issen spat. He shifted to the side, circling around the enormous Astartes with his blade poised to strike. “The Emperor’s guiding light be my shield! The Emperor’s holy wrath be my sword! DIE, HERETIC!!”

He struck with surprising speed, his blade swinging for Sliver’s helmet face. Sliver moved even faster, his bulk swinging out of the way and his free hand grabbing Issen’s weapon arm. He hauled the old man up into the air, holding him high and close enough that they were almost nose-to-helmet.

“I trusst you have thiss man’ss face now, inssect?” Sliver asked as the Director swore and flailed against his grip.

“Yes. I do,” Chrysalis said.

Sliver puffed a cloud of yellow gas from his respirator, spraying Director Issen directly in the face. The man seized up almost immediately, and then started coughing.

“The inssect hass your face. The Iron Warriorss have your sstation. And now Nurgle hass your body.” Sliver dropped the Director Primus onto the deck. The man promptly stumbled and fell, his legs failing him while he heaved and clutched at his throat. “That will be all we need from you, Lord Director.”

Sliver turned on one heel, beckoning to Chrysalis with his free hand. The changeling queen hesitated briefly, watching the Director Primus writhe on the floor, but then she grimaced and flew down to follow the hulking Terminator.

“You have done… adequately,” Sliver decided after a pause. “Your asssisstance ssaved many livess thiss day. But you did not ssilence the gunss before we arrived. My Sspace Mariness have desstroyed mosst of the gunnery cloissterss on their own, but the Harvesst hass ssuffered for your laxity.”

Chrysalis groaned as she stepped over the many burnt bodies on her way to the exit. “That old man was much more… spry than I expected,” she grumbled.

“I’ve no doubt. And yet, ssuch a man iss the leasst of the opponentss we will call upon you to face.” Sliver stopped at the shattered doors of the command center, beckoning for the changeling to proceed ahead of him. “You’ve been given powerful giftss, inssect. Prove to uss you are worthy of them.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” she sighed, sulking slightly while she walked past him. “But for now I need to see the big boss. I think that geezer knocked something loose in me; the ticking sounds kind of off-rhythm now.”

“We will have time before the next phasse of our raid,” Sliver advised the changeling. “The sspace sstation Esschel is ourss.”

Grand Cruiser Blessed Redemption
Underdecks access junction F-9

The Lieutenant Commander turned to address the approaching Techpriest, a weary grimace on his face. “What is the situation? Quickly, now!”

“The situation is critical, Lieutenant,” the cyborg replied curtly. “Eschel is compromised. It has been boarded and its defenses will not hold. The defense fleet is crippled. Considering damage estimates of both friendly and enemy ships, the chances of victory are less than three percent. Our orbital resistance has failed.”

“And our status?”

“Far from nominal. The reactor will be active soon, and the macro-cannon batteries are loaded, but with engines critically damaged the Blessed Redemption will not be tactically viable. There is barely enough crew stuck in quarantine to man the weapons.”

“And the command crew is still planetside. No Captain, no gunnery masters, no auspex scriveners,” the Lieutenant growled.

“Affirmative. We are relying on signum relays from Eschel for targeting data, but we can expect transmissions to cease once the station is claimed by the enemy.” The Techpriest paused. “In addition… there may be another problem.”

“Another problem! Well, why not?!” the Lieutenant snapped. “We’re surrounded by traitors, don’t have enough men to use the vessel we’re trapped in, and holding back a swarm of who knows how many xenos digging through the underdecks! The situation can hardly get worse! Go on, what is it?”

The Techpriest hesitated. “… There was a signum convergence event that coincided with the attack on Eschel. After analyzing the data, I have determined that the enemy teleported onto the Blessed Redemption. However… their destination point seems to be the underdecks.”

“They teleported into… Emperor’s light!” The Lieutenant laughed, scratching his head under his beret. “The heretic scum had no idea what we were quarantined for and dropped right into the middle of a xeno infestation!”

“That appears to be the case. As our ability to monitor the quarantine zone is limited I am unable to gather more data on the threat, but I estimate a 14.47 percent chance of escaping to operational regions.”

“Rather high, don’t you think?”

“I cannot discount the possibility of uniquely profane tactics and wargear, or a much-reduced xeno response due to our recent purge attempts. Regardless, it is highly likely that the xeno boarders will dispatch the intruders before we establish contact.”

The Lieutenant grimaced. “Well it isn’t as if we don’t have enough to worry about. But if the boarding team gets through the Tyranids we have quite a surprise for them…”

The underdeck junction consisted of a sloped ramp, with the bottom end supporting a set of superheavy blast doors and the higher end branching into several hallways. At the lower end, which connected to the infested underdecks, lay the remains of dozens of Tyranids. Some were burnt by flame or laser, but most had been blown apart by explosive weapons. Razor wire had been strung along the approach to the ramp in multiple coils, creating a short maze of bladed metal before the sloped deck of the ramp. Upon the ramp sat the soldiers of the Imperial purging teams.

The first rank sat behind barricades, carrying flamers and shotguns. The middle ranks, consisting of nearly fifty soldiers spaced out so that they could fire over each other, had lasguns or sat behind mounted heavy bolters. The top-most part of the ramp hosted large ballistic shields protecting numerous autocannons; each one of the guns could tear a Genestealer in half with a glancing hit, and together the weapons were capable of taking down beasts much larger than anything that could reasonably traverse the interior of a void ship.

The junction was a death trap, with a concentration of firepower that couldn’t be overcome by sheer numbers. Not that the Tyranids have been given many opportunities to try; the blast doors had successfully held the snarling beasts at bay whenever they were closed.

“Detecting local power surge,” the Techpriest said suddenly, turning sharply toward the incline.

The lumens flickered overhead, and the tension among the defenders jumped. The few men who weren’t already nervously alert were quickly shaken awake, and the soldiers manning heavy weapons checked their ammunition feeds.

“What’s happening? Are the damned xenos chewing on the power conduits now?” the Lieutenant growled.

“Negative. This is deliberate sabotage, not xeno savagery.” The Techpriest started heading down the junction ramp at a hurried pace. “Someone is attempting to defeat the mag seal.”

“What?! Hey, get back!” the Lieutenant ordered. “If they come through the door then we’ll wipe them out! Come back here!”

“Negative. The blast doors cannot be compromised,” the Techpriest protested, passing by the front barricades.

The soldiers looked in askance to the Lieutenant, but the officer just threw up his hands. The Techpriest carefully navigated the razor wire, his cloak catching and tearing several times in the process.

As he approached the blast doors, the massive magnetic seal had begun to turn, subject to an override on the other side. The Techpriest brought his servo arm around and inserted it into a depression in the main gear, and the massive metal wheel promptly stopped turning.

“Containment has been sustained. Request reinforcements,” the cyborg said, his voice rising slightly in distress.

“Reinforcements? What’s going on here? What’s on the other side of those doors?”

The Techpriest heard a crackling noise and spotted an arc of electricity briefly flashing across the face of the seal. Another appeared a second later, running perpendicular to the first energy string. Whispers of a strange, foreign-sounding Binaric reached his ears.

More of the mysterious arcs appeared, burning into the metal and leaving behind a bright red glow. After several seconds it formed an eight-pointed star and flared brighter, and the buzzing of irregular Cant grew louder.

“Omnissiah, protect us,” intoned the Techpriest, right before he lurched backward and screamed.

Several soldiers jumped up to assist, but the Lieutenant immediately shouted them back down. “Stay at your posts! Hold position and stay ready!”

The officer himself started running down the ramp toward the cyborg, who convulsed wildly while sputtering gibberish machine code. “You see something that isn’t human, you open fire!”

Before he even reached the razor wire the mag seal suddenly turned sharply, and the thick reinforcing rods that protected the blast doors swiftly withdrew into the floor and ceiling. The Lieutenant stopped, watching helplessly as the superheavy barrier started to lift itself from the deck.

“Don’t just stand there! Move! Can you hear me?!” the officer shouted.

The Techpriest didn’t respond, clutching the visor over his eyes and continuing to screech incoherently. The door slowly opened in front of him, the mechanisms straining under their irregular power supply.

Suddenly, the Techpriest’s voice returned. “The blasphemers! They are here! They bring-“

As he turned around, a power axe slipped through the four-inch gap under the rising blast doors and swung across the deck. It sliced through the Techpriest’s augmetic feet in a blast of sparks and twisted metal shards, and the hapless engineer-cultist fell forward onto the floor. His own power axe – a cog-toothed Omnissian weapon with an extended haft and a wrench grip on the back head – clattered to the deck just out of reach. A metal arm promptly shot out from under the door and seized him by the leg, and then started dragging him through the gap.

Several soldiers stood up as the Techpriest was carried off, aiming their weapons into the gloom beneath the blast doors but finding no target. A few fired anyway, splashing laser shot against the floor bulkheads with no effect whatsoever.

The Techpriest disappeared under the blast doors, howling a string of Binaric curses. A moment later, the sound of metal splitting beneath a powered blade came from the other side, and the shouting stopped. The blast doors continued to lift slowly from the deck, creaking upward inch by inch.

“The moment you see ANYTHING come into the junction, you kill it!” shouted the Lieutenant, racing back up the ramp. “Somebody get a lumen down there! Get ready!”

One of the soldiers at the front barricade complied, pulling a short rod from his belt and twisting off the cap. Then he flung it into the webs of razor wire, and the lumen rod lit up on one end.

The soldiers higher up on the junction ramp couldn’t see past the still-rising blast doors, but those closest to the entrance watched, bewildered, as the light exposed a figure in silver and beaten gold. A short, four-legged figure, specifically, wearing gleaming power armor with short, backward-pointed horns on its helmet and a pair of large wings on its back. The wings spread, each one splitting into several long fins. The impulse thrusters inside the fins started a slow burn, and a sharp whine echoed through the halls.

“What in Terra’s name is THAT?” exclaimed one man, sounding far more confused than frightened at the sight.

“YO HO HO, SUCKERS!!” Rainbow Dash hit her boosters, blasting forward as low to the floor as she could. She barely cut under the blast doors but kept skimming low to the deck, flying face-first into the loops of razor wire that protected the barricades from incursion. Lasblasts and shotgun rounds started spraying across the junction, but Rainbow simply sped up while the wire caught on her legs and shoulders.

“Down! Get down!” the Lieutenant dove to the deck as Rainbow Dash flew up the ramp. She was moving far too fast for any of the heavy weapons to track, and even the las bursts could barely try to chase her before she zipped overhead.

The razor wire, torn from its moorings on the deck, dragged along beneath the pegasus like dozens of whipping, bladed tentacles lashing at the soldiers underneath. Most of the men were wearing pressurized armor suits, protecting them from the sharp edges, but where the wire caught onto armor plates or wrapped around limbs the soldiers were thrown to the floor.

Rainbow Dash killed her main booster once she shot past the autocannons, swung her body about mid-flight, and hit the wall hooves-first. The razor wire shook and bounced all around her, and she closed her flight pack while her boots were mag-locked to the wall. The soldiers were all scrambling to their feet again, hefting rifles or drawing sidearms.

“Hi! I’m a diversion!” Rainbow bounced away from the bulkhead just before a stream of lasblasts hit it, still dragging along the razor wire tangled around her body. At the other end of the junction, the first of the Hormagaunts bounded toward the barricades.

It died in an instant, struck by two lasers and a shotgun. Its carapace armor shattered under the pressure, and a milky ooze splashed across the deck as it sunk to join the other corpses.

Ten Tyranids raced from the gloom to take its place.

“Hey! HEY!! Incoming from the front!”

“Xenos! Take them down!”

“The wire is gone! They’re coming too fast!”

“What is that flying thing?! Is that a Tyranid? Or are these things Chaos?”

“It doesn’t matter! Just kill the big ones like before!”

“I don’t SEE any big ones!”

Jets of flame and bursts from the heavy bolters joined the lasgun fusillade, ripping apart waves of incoming Tyranids at a time. The autocannons joined in, and soon strings of explosions were criss-crossing the approach ahead of the walls of fire. A veritable storm of death greeted the aliens, and most of them perished before they even saw one of the defenders.

Suddenly, cannon fire emerged from the darkness of the underdecks. One of the barricades folded, and the men covering behind it were blown apart under the unexpected attack. At the same time a flurry of shuriken struck one of the autocannon positions from behind, cutting down the gunner while his attention was elsewhere.

“What was THAT? How did Tyranids get a real gun?!”

A purple beam lashed out from the darkness, screaming over the heads of the aliens to cut across the heavy bolters. Men were hurled backwards from the deadly psychic force and heavy guns crumpled just as another wave of Hormagaunts clawed over the bodies of their siblings. Another burst of light and the roar of another flight pack heralded the emergence of a much larger armored body into the junction, along with the pounding of other armored boots against the deck.

As a cackling Chaos Lord leapt upon the barricades and the first Tyranid drones finally reached attack range of the defenders, it dawned upon the men that their bulwark would not hold.

“IRON WITHIN, BECOME THE IRON WITHOUT!!” Tellis crushed a man’s body underfoot and almost casually sliced apart his partner with a flick of his wrist. “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!”

“Comin’ through! Get outta the way!” Applejack shouldered through the hissing aliens and walls of fire like a locomotive, lasblasts raining on her all the while. An autocannon round slammed into her cowl, blowing off a chunk of heavy plating but barely slowing her down. Rarity galloped along in her wake, her plasma gun floating high overhead while it fired relentlessly.

“Emperor forgive us… What is this abomination?” the Lieutenant gaped helplessly at the sight of an enormous pink walker – an actual DREADNOUGHT, by all appearances – stomping into the junction. At its side was a Techpriest in black robes and another of the strange four-legged things in armor. “The Great Enemy commands the xenos as his thralls? How can we stand against such evil?”

Another scream came from the autocannon crew, and another one of the heavy guns fell silent.

“Okay, I know I said I was a decoy and all, but you guys probably should be paying attention at least a little bit,” Rainbow Dash murmured, turning her shuriken catapult to the next target. The heavy weapons gunners continued pounding away, understandably more worried about the swarm carving through the barricades than the one pegasus behind them.

A lasblast struck her square in the visor, and she flinched as half her optical display turned into a mess of scattered and disjointed icons. The Lieutenant was sprinting up the ramp toward her, brandishing a power sword in one hand and firing his laspistol in the other.

“Abominations against mankind!” the soldier snarled. “Whether alien monsters or corrupt heretics, we cast you all to the abyss!”

Rainbow Dash couldn’t properly aim her catapult with her visor still malfunctioning, so she jumped up into the air when the Lieutenant slashed at her head. The crackling blade sliced through the trailing wires still clinging to her, cutting away several loops of it while she dodged. He rushed after the pegasus with another strike, but Rainbow weaved through the air with ease.

“Sorry buddy, but we’ve gotta sabotage your ship,” Rainbow said, another lasblast striking her boot. “Nothing personal. It’s a pirate thing!”

“You will never escape the Emperor’s wrath!” snarled the Lieutenant, bolting forward with his blade overhead.

Rainbow raised her forelegs toward the man as if to ward him off, and then hit her impulse blasters. She lurched backward, and the soldier charging at her was knocked clean off his feet and flung backward. He hit the deck and slid to a stop, barely managing to hold on to his weapons.

“C’mon, don’t make me move around too much. Some of this wire is cutting into the rubber bits and it hurts,” Rainbow complained while the soldier stood up.

“Daemonic filth!” the Lieutenant snarled, raising his pistol to shoot again.

He turned suddenly on his heel, firing instead on a Hormagaunt that was crouching in preparation to pounce. The lasblast speared through its skull, and it slumped to the deck. Three more bound up behind it, raising their sickle-clawed limbs and snapping hungry jaws thick with saliva and fresh blood.

Two of the aliens died in a flash of bright blue as the man’s power sword slashed through the air, slicing across one Hormagaunt’s head and then cutting down onto another. The third pounced, leaping upon the Lieutenant and knocking him to the deck. Four more of the aliens sprinted up the ramp to join in, snarling ferociously and plunging their talons into the fray.

Rainbow Dash grimaced as her damaged visor flashed wildly with targeting data, nearly blinding her with a cascade of redundant spinning brackets. Her armor systems still designated the Tyranids as enemy targets, and the flailing limbs and blood wasn’t helping, either. She landed on the floor and disengaged her helmet, finally getting an unfiltered look at the grand cruiser’s interior.

“Well… guess we won,” the pegasus mumbled, looking over the ruins of the barricades. The corpses of Hormagaunts and Imperial armsmen were scattered behind every barricade, and the smell of gunsmoke and burning promethium hung heavily in the junction. The surviving Tyranids – which numbered a mere fifteen Hormagaunts – mostly ran back and forth between the gun emplacements, seeking more live targets. Without the firm psychic hold of a synapse controller to direct them, the creatures were in thrall to their own feral hunger and surging adrenaline, and they frequently stopped to take bites of the dead or snap at each other.

At the bottom of the ramp, Gaela watched the carnage silently while she reviewed each emplacement. Pinkie Pie stood behind her in her Dreadnought, swiveling her cannon back and forth to hunt for any remaining targets. Fluttershy was actively corralling the surviving Hormagaunts, racing from barricade to barricade and assuring them they were very good boys.

“Hey, that went pretty well! They didn’t even kill all of Flutter’s little buddies!” Pinkie chirped.

“Much to my chagrin,” Gaela said darkly. She kneeled down on the floor, picking up a cog-toothed power axe lying at her feet. “We must hurry. I believe there is still crew in this ship, and they will have detected this combat.” Then she paused and glanced behind her at the gore-drenched halls of the underdecks. “And the crew isn’t the only threat, either.”

“Where do we go from here?” Twilight asked.

“The datastacks should be closest, and not well-guarded if at all. From there we can proceed to the reactor core, and then the teleportarium.” Gaela walked up the ramp, with Pinkie and Twilight right behind her. “Fluttershy!”

The meek pegasus half-turned from where she was helping wipe the blood off a Hormagaunt’s maw. “Hmm?”

“I’m going to open the next series of blast doors. Order the survivors deeper into the ship to hunt.”

Fluttershy looked around at the Tyranids. Most of them were returning to her and forming a protective circle again. Some were injured, and these particular creatures seemed to be lining up behind the Hormagaunt she was cleaning.

“I, uhm, don’t think they want to leave me, actually,” Fluttershy mumbled. “They think they’re safer with us.”

“They are battle spawn. They are bred specifically to obey suicidal commands without question,” Gaela pointed out.

“I… I suppose? But, well…” One of the aliens nuzzled her helmet, rubbing its dark red dorsal plating against her vox grille. “They really don’t want to leave…”

Gaela halted her ascent up the junction to stop and glare at Fluttershy for several seconds. “… We’re not taking them back to the Harvest of Steel.”

Fluttershy’s helmet opened up, and she stared at the Dark Techpriest with big, sorrowful, watery eyes. She sniffled slightly, and the nearest Tyranids bristled.

“We are NOT taking them back to the Harvest of Steel,” Gaela reiterated firmly, heading up the ramp again.

“So what are we going to do with them?” Tellis asked while he stood over several corpses he’d arranged into a Chaos Star. “Should I kill ‘em?”

Gaela paused briefly, surprised that the Chaos Lord would ask her for advice. “We need not do anything. I intend to leave them here. The infestation is largely irrelevant at this point.”

Twilight rushed up next to her, and the rest of the Equinoughts formed up from behind. “So what’s our exit strategy look like, then?”

“I have not decided on our best method of evacuation, but it will be necessary to depart the ship rather than waiting for extraction. After I sabotage the reactor, we’ll make our way out.” Gaela reached the top of the junction and turned toward one of the security doors leading deeper into the ship. She started working on the door’s seal, grabbing onto the lock mechanism with a servo claw before wedging her power axe into an adjacent slot. “It will not be long now.”

“Can’t we take just a few of the bugs home? Like for arena fodder and stuff?” Tellis asked.

Gaela glanced back at the Iron Warrior while she worked. “… Lord Tellis, you do not need my permission for anything.”

“Oh yeah, huh? The ponies keep acting like you’re in charge, so I guess I just went with it.” Tellis suddenly lashed out toward one of the Hormagaunts and picked it up by its tail. The alien started thrashing in a panic and swiping at the Chaos Lord’s greaves, but its claws did no apparent damage to the Warp-fueled armor. “I think I’ll take some back for the changeling farm. Maybe they’ll fight!”

Fluttershy sighed, hanging her head. “I suppose Miss Gaela is right. It would be best for all of us if they stay here. At least they’ll have a fighting chance that way.”

“No, they won’t.” Gaela finished unlocking the blast doors, and then stepped aside. “Contact.”

The door slid open, revealing another hall. A squad of soldiers were running toward the junction with some deck ratings in tow, and they stumbled to a halt when they saw the collection of armored figures waiting for them.

“Blood blood BLOOD!” Tellis hurled the Hormagaunt in his arms like a javelin, bowling over the squad leader before the defenders could open fire. He raced off after the alien just as swiftly, enduring a few desperate lasblasts before he reached melee.

Gaela dismissed the combat as the screaming started, turning to the Equinoughts. “The datastacks are this way. Deeper in is the reactor. Hurry!”

Rarity hesitated, looking back down the ramp. “Ah, shouldn’t we make sure to-“

“Negative. The longer we delay, the greater the danger of an overwhelming enemy response,” Gaela explained, running near the bulkhead wall to give Tellis a wide berth.

Rainbow Dash zoomed around the other side of the combat, and then turned around mid-air to address the Techpriest. “Like anyone around here can take us on! Between the Pain Train and Tellis, we can handle anything!”

“I would really prefer not to call it the Pain Train,” Pinkie interjected, stomping along behind everyone else.

“Objectively terrible designations aside, mere armsmen are not the worst that the Blessed Redemption can inflict if its crew is desperate enough. Once they decide the ship cannot be saved, many more options become viable.”

Pinkie Pie’s Dreadnought stopped in front of Tellis as the Chaos Lord finished up, his armor slowly absorbing the blood and gore splattered over his armor. Her gait became unsteady while she tried to avoid stepping on Fluttershy, who was tenderly helping the Hormagaunt Tellis had hurled back to its feet.

“Fluttershy, I know you wanna help the scary alien bugs but try to keep it moving, okay?” Pinkie asked anxiously. “It’s hard to see where I’m stepping!”

“I can’t believe we found out that Fluttershy can befriend Tyranids and the cyber-nerd wants to get rid of them rather than raising a bug army,” Tellis complained. “Forget the ship; if we went back for the rest of the ‘Nids we could start our own brood or something!”

“No you couldn’t!” Gaela interrupted loudly without turning around.

“We should at LEAST pack a few into savior pods and shoot them off toward the planet for kicks,” the Chaos Lord grumbled.

“Why would we wanna infest a random planet with killer space bugs?” Applejack asked.

“For one – and this is just for starters – it would make phase two of this attack WAY more exciting.”

“Phase two? What’s phase two?” Applejack asked suspiciously.

“Obviously phase two is attacking the planet,” Gaela replied. “The major production centers and transport nodes are rich with material that rely on the orbital defenses for protection. Once the void-borne defenders are routed, we will descend on the Imperium’s cities.”

Twilight grimaced. “Then it’s definitely best we-“

“CONTACT!!”

Gaela’s shout spurred Twilight into action, and the force harmonizer jumped from her back before activating its shield mode. Twin autoturrets were dropping from the ceiling in front of a fortified door, and the door itself slid open to reveal the barrel of a lasgun.

The Dark Techpriest immediately speared one of the turrets with her heavy laser, slicing through its servos and rendering it unable to aim. The other gun opened fire, spraying a storm of lasblasts into Twilight’s energy barrier.

“I got it!” Rainbow Dash announced, zipping past Gaela and rocketing down the hall. She even remembered to engage her helmet first, disliking the prospect of lasers to the face slightly more than she liked feeling the wind in her mane.

The turret swiveled to bracket her, and Rainbow kicked off a wall with the impulse blasters in her greaves, instantly doubling her speed. She smashed into the servo actuator above the turret body, wrenching the arm apart, and the automated weapon promptly fell onto the deck while she spiraled dizzily down the hall.

The soldier shifted his lasgun to follow her, but Applejack’s gravity lash struck the rifle and pulled. The defender was yanked off his feet and flung into the hall, his weapon slipping free of his grasp in the process.

He rolled with the impact, and then slapped his hand onto his fallen rifle. A metal boot fell onto the other end, pinning it to the ground. The man craned his head up just before a crackling power axe swung down.

Gaela barely had time to step away from the fresh corpse before Tellis came barreling past her to charge into the room the soldier had been protecting.

“BLOOD FOR THE BLOoh there’s no else here.”

The Raptor slumped in disappointment at seeing the interior of the room, which was empty of further defenders and too small to offer any potential hiding places. The walls were covered over by octagonal columns and loops of wiring, and a single console screen hung from the ceiling.

Gaela walked in behind the Iron Warrior. “The guard complement for the primary datastacks is always feeble, whenever there is one posted at all. But the reactor room should provide more sport for you, Lord.” Her servo arm snagged the console, gently lowering it to a more convenient height. “It will take some time to…“

She trailed off at the sound of footsteps banging against the deck behind her and out the hallway. After a few seconds they faded into the general background noise of the ship interior, and her helmet informed her that she had lost short-range contact.

Twilight leaned her head into the doorway. “Tellis ran off again.”

“I noticed,” Gaela deadpanned, locking a mechadendrite into a data port. “It will be some time before we can follow. The security bypass for the data wards is much more complex and delicate than a mag-seal.”

“What? Oh! Here, let me help!” Twilight eagerly stepped into the datastack repository, locking on to the screen.

“This is slightly beyond your technical… erm…” Gaela found herself at a loss for words as several progress bars appeared on-screen, filled up, and then vanished in a matter of seconds. Windows opened and closed rapidly at a pace she was barely able to track, and soon Gaela was staring at the administrator primus access nodule.

The Dark Techpriest glanced back at the alicorn, who tilted her head to the side innocently. “Did I do it right?”

“You… You did,” Gaela mumbled. “Since when were you capable of dataslicing security wards?” She promptly set to work, rapidly sorting through the archives for information of possible value.

“Since I got my new augmetic eye! Isn’t it cool?” Twilight gushed. “I barely even know what it’s doing sometimes, but it’s really come in handy!”

“If Gaela says ya helped, fair ‘nuff, but Ah sure hope Ah never need none o’ mah pony parts replaced,” Applejack grumbled.

“Seconded. The Warsmith works miracles, to be sure, but his aesthetic taste is…” Rarity trailed off for a moment, and then quickly cleared her throat. “N-Not that you look bad, darling! The eye is very… neat! It’s just not my style!”

“It’s definitely MY style. I wanna get a robot tail that shoots lasers,” Rainbow said with a giggle. “Do we need to actually get the parts blasted off before they replace them with metal bits? How does this work, anyway?”

“I imagine that if you simply tried to pester him into it like you did for our armor suits, he’d be happy to rip it out of you himself,” Rarity advised wryly.

Gaela slid a metal finger across the screen, and the monitor went dark and pulled itself back up to the ceiling. A whirring noise came from the wall, and a portion of the datahive extended out into the room. The stacked octagonal cells locked into the column separated, and Gaela delicately took the top-most cell.

“Objective complete. We proceed at once.” She slipped the cell into her robes and then stepped into the hallway. “Assuming Lord Tellis went the right way, I do not expect significant armed resistance. However, we…”

She stopped talking when she saw Fluttershy, who was in the rear of the formation with Pinkie Pie. The pegasus had her helmet disengaged, and a Hormagaunt was nuzzling her snout tenderly while the yellow mare cooed happily. That was quite disturbing on its own, but what Gaela found more distressing was that she now counted twenty-five of the alien war-fodder; significantly more than they left the junction with.

“Are you summoning more of those? We no longer need their assistance!” Gaela insisted. “And engage your armor seals! We could be exposed to environmental hazards at any time!”

“Okay, but… the Tyranids, um, keep wandering up from the underdecks behind us,” Fluttershy said apologetically while her helmet clicked back into place and pressurized. “I think they were hungry, and then followed the scent of-“

“I don’t CARE why they’re here. Get rid of them,” Gaela snapped while she turned away and headed down the hall. “If the wretched insects absolutely insist on following you, I can always push you all out the airlock and you can fly back to the Harvest.”

Fluttershy sighed, hanging her head. The nearest Hormagaunt made an awkward croaking sound and started nudging her chin up with its nose.

Twilight started to follow Gaela, but hesitated and looked back at Fluttershy. “To be absolutely clear: the flagship is AT LEAST twenty kilometers away so at your maximum flight speed you couldn’t actually make it back there.”

“I know, Twilight,” Fluttershy said calmly.

“Do not fall behind! If we get separated further we are vulnerable!” Gaela announced.

Their passage through the rest of the ship was unremarkable, save for the occasional massacred crewman that marked their path following the Mad Angel. The groans of a straining substructure and distant clanking of heavy machinery were conspicuous for their absence, and instead mysterious clicking noises and echoing screams rang through the hull. The air ducts occasionally rattled, causing the mares to stop and nervously search the nearest vent covers with thermal scans. The scans returned nothing each time, and the boarding party scrambled to keep up with Gaela’s lead.

Eventually Gaela stopped, slicing her axe down to the side. The ponies halted, waiting on her command. The Dark Techpriest reached a corner at another intersection in the hall, and then cautiously leaned out around it.

“… As I anticipated,” Gaela mumbled. “The area is secure. Mostly.”

“’Mostly?’ What does that mean?” Rarity asked.

“Lord Tellis does not possess what you’d call a delicate touch, and this is a sensitive area of the ship,” Gaela warned. “Follow behind me, and stay away from anything that looks damaged.”

It was easy to see what Gaela meant when they turned the corner. Bodies were strewn about the hall, most of them bearing the extremely distinctive wounds left by powered claws. A pair of autoturrets had been destroyed, one of them by being wrenched straight out of its housing socket. The blast doors had been blown open, and there was a stream of some kind of synthetic fluid leaking out from the room behind the doors.

“The heart of the Blessed Redemption awaits,” Gaela intoned, stepping over the bodies in her path. “Pie, remain here. It’s entirely likely the rest of the crew is evacuating or hiding, but if there are any officers remaining they would be wise to attempt a counter-attack about now. Fluttershy, you may remain here as well, if only so that the aliens provide a wall of physical obstacles to our objective.”

“Roger dodger!” Pinkie’s Dreadnought swiveled around on the spot, and a clunking noise came from the butcher cannon’s ammo hoppers resetting.

Rainbow Dash sped up to join Gaela while she entered the main reactor sanctum. “Yo, Tellis! You here?”

The interior of the sanctum was a cavernous web of consoles and pipes surrounding a massive, metal pillar. All manner of machines were scattered about the interior, from grav-lifters to servo-regulator towers to thrumming electro-shrines. The idle noises of the infested ship were completely swallowed by the hollow roar of the reactor in this place, and the Equinoughts found their visors briefly flickering into static every few seconds.

There was also a very conspicuous trail of destruction and dead bodies winding through the room, leading up to a piece of scorched wreckage that Gaela guessed used to be a generator. There were several burnt skeletons surrounding it bearing partially-melted augments, and one Iron Warrior hanging limply with his flight pack entangled in some cables and smoke pouring off his armor.

“Tellis! Tellis, are you okay?!” Rainbow Dash asked, her own flight pack spreading in preparation to launch her across the room.

Gaela’s servo arm clamped onto her leg, stopping her in place. “Remain GROUNDED,” the Dark Techpriest commanded. “See to Lord Tellis, but be more cautious than he was.”

Rainbow nodded eagerly, and Gaela let her drop onto the floor and gallop off. Then Gaela looked up at the webs of cabling running across the ceiling and hanging between the reactor core and the various cylinder towers surrounding it. “Sparkle, slice the admin prioritus warding on the primary regulator console. Rarity!”

The unicorn started in surprise. It was rare for Gaela to give her a command. “Y-Yes?”

“I have marked a number of critical tubes. I am exloading the designation matrices to you now. Cut them,” the Techpriest commanded while she stepped up to the terminal next to Twilight. “Do NOT damage any of the adjacent cabling, as a stray discharge or accidental fluid ejection could prove fatal.”

“Of course, darling.” Rarity drew her power sword as a number of markers appeared on her visor, highlighting certain tubes in bright red.

“Tellis? Tellis! Dude, you okay?” Rainbow Dash stood underneath the Iron Warrior, tapping his greaves with her own. “I’m pretty sure he’s still alive. What’s wrong with him?”

“The amperage necessary to scour flesh from bone is adequate to still even Astartes biology,” Gaela noted. “His armor’s internal dampers probably saved his life, but he remains stunned.”

“Should we carry him outta here?” Applejack asked.

“You may do as you wish. His survival is not a mission priority for me.” Gaela inserted a mechadendrite into a data socket, and several of the holoscreens flickered and started to fill up with aberrant code.

“Yeesh. Ice cold.” Rainbow stared up at the Chaos Lord for a few more seconds, thinking.

Rarity sliced open one of the tubes with her power sword, and then watched as freezing white mist poured from the breach. The spray splashed across the deck as the tubing fell from the other cables and wiring, instantly icing over the metal flooring.

“Freezing liquid? Hmm…” Rarity levitated her sword to the next target. “This tube looks the same… are these all used to cool the reactor?”

“Affirmative,” Gaela said.

“Ah. Then severing them is going to cause this system to overheat, will it not?”

“Affirmative,” Gaela repeated.

“Oh, I get it! And then the safety mechanisms kick in and turn off the reactor, right?” Twilight asked.

“Something like that,” the Dark Techpriest mumbled as she worked.

Rainbow Dash connected her vox link to Fluttershy, pressing a boot to the side of her helmet. “Hey Flutters, you’ve got medical stuff, right? Can you come check on Tellis? He needs a kick in the tail.”

Gaela immediately whirled around, almost tearing her datalink free of its socket. “Don’t call her in here!”

“Why not?” Rainbow replied as Fluttershy galloped into the room. “Gaela, I know you’re not a huge Tellis fan but he fought through all the defenses for us. Let Fluttershy patch him up.”

“That is not why I-“

The Dark Techpriest was interrupted by a sharp electric crack as a Hormagaunt stepped on a patch of damaged cabling. The Tyranid shrieked, its body cooking near-instantly within its electrified carapace, and then it collapsed in a smoldering heap.

“Oh no! Scuttles!” Fluttershy gasped, stumbling to a halt. The Tyranids were flooding into the reactor sanctum now, surrounding their pony protector and poking unwisely at the many machines and sparking objects scattered around the interior. “Please, be careful everyone! Chitters, don’t touch that!”

“Ya NAMED ‘em?” Applejack asked incredulously.

“Er… well… yes,” Fluttershy admitted meekly. “Why not?”

Rarity sliced through another coolant tube overhead, and one end of the sundered hose swung down in a long arc while spitting a jet of freezing mist. The hose passed over a few Hormagaunts, and by the time it sputtered to a stop three of the aliens were frozen solid.

“…… That’s why,” Applejack sighed. “Not good t’get attached.”

“Eep! Rarity!” Fluttershy quailed.

“Oops! Sorry, darling. These things just whip around everywhere when you cut them.” Rarity ducked her head in embarrassment but otherwise didn’t seem terribly regretful as one of the Tyranid’s scythe-limbs broke off and shattered on the floor. “Gaela did warn us it was dangerous in here.”

“I take it all back,” Gaela said curtly, finally turning back to the console. “Have your revolting pets crawl all over the reactor; see what I care. It’s not going to matter at this point, anyway.”

“Oh? Um… why is that?” Fluttershy asked.

“Hey! C’mon, Flutters!” Rainbow snapped, tapping her boot on the deck. “We’re on a time limit here! Help Tellis out!”

The other pegasus squeaked and rushed across the room. The Tyranids scuttled after her, trying to keep a tighter line behind the mare after seeing their broodmates killed. Once Fluttershy reached the Iron Warrior, she lifted off to hover in front of him and carefully inserted a needle from her narthecium into the soft neck covering of his armor.

“He’s in an advanced state of shock. I’ve seen this before in the badly wounded Iron Warriors where their bodies shut down and enter a kind of hibernation. I know how to wake him up. Rainbow Dash, could you lift an arm, please?”

As the pegasi worked to get Tellis conscious again, Twilight suddenly heard Gaela’s voice through her vox receptor. “I thought I should advise you that this is your last chance to overload the particular transformer tower Lord Tellis is entangled with and finish him off,” she explained.

“What? No,” Twilight scoffed, whispering into her vox and ensuring that her external speakers were inactive. “This isn’t like the… other situation. I’m not going to start plotting to kill whatever Iron Warriors I don’t like.”

“Ah. It wouldn’t comport to your sense of justice, I suppose,” Gaela mused.

“It’s not that. It’s that Dash would be really sad,” Twilight admitted. “This is a friendship issue. And you’ve never seen Dash when she gets really mopey, it’s the worst.” Then she cleared her throat. “But aside from that, no, I don’t think it would be the best decision from a moral philosophy perspective, either.”

A maniacal laugh boomed through the reactor sanctum.

Tellis spread the wings of his flight pack, stretching the cabling and webs of wired they had been entangled in. His claws came alive with power, their bright red disruption fields crackling sharply.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOO I’m on DRUGS!!” he screeched. Then he swung his arms up, slicing through dozens of cables at once and dropping his armored bulk to the deck.

The Hormagaunts flinched away from the impact, and in the brief window of opportunity the Iron Warrior snatched Fluttershy off the floor and held her up in front of his face. She squeaked in fright and her body seized up, but to her credit she didn’t bother trying to activate her cloak this time.

“Y’know, I don’t say this often enough Shy: you’re really cool for someone who doesn’t kill things for kicks,” Tellis said, his voice somber. “I really don’t give you enough credit for being able to dominate lower life forms and daemonic spirits. It’s a really great power! Also you have some pretty sweet chemicals on you. So thanks!”

“Y-You’re w-welcome,” Fluttershy stuttered. It wasn’t the she didn’t appreciate the compliments, but Tellis was holding her up by one of her wing casings and his lightning claws were still fully active, crackling dangerously just inches from her armor suit. The Tyranids picked up on her unease and started hissing loudly and raising their talons, but Tellis didn’t seem to care.

“Wanna hug?” the Chaos Lord asked Fluttershy. “I’m in a huggy mood right now. Probably ‘cuz drugs.”

“I’m g-good, th-thank you!” Fluttershy stuttered. “C-Can you let me d-down, please?”

Tellis dropped her so suddenly that Fluttershy stumbled upon landing, although her swarm of Hormagaunts quickly surrounded her to hold her up.

“I could go for a hug,” Rainbow Dash volunteered.

“HUG TIME!!” Tellis scooped Rainbow off the floor in an instant, squeezing her against his chest plate.

“Whoa, hey! Watch the claws, buddy! Ha ha!” Rainbow laughed as their armor plating scraped against each other.

“Aww, shucks. That’s kinda cute,” Applejack chuckled.

“Gaela, darling, I got the last of those tubes. Now what?” Rarity trotted back to the main control panel, idly scraping the blade of her power sword against an armor edge to remove the frost.

“Stand by. I am almost finished,” the Techpriest assured them. She swiped an armored finger across a holoscreen and then took hold of a lever, slowly pushing it up while various meters started turning red.

“…… Hey, Gaela?” Twilight interrupted.

“No, I don’t want any hugs,” she replied.

“It’s not that. I, uh… I thought we were here to shut down the reactor. Are we… doing that?” the alicorn asked anxiously.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“All the temperature gauges and energy readings keep going up,” Twilight pointed out. “Why didn’t it initiate emergency shutdown after the coolant system was disabled?”

“Because I have purged the shutdown protocols from the logic engines,” Gaela explained.

“Gaela… dear… is this ship going to explode?” Rarity asked tenderly.

“Nah. When ships are overloading their reactors there’s always a bunch of klaxons and warnings for evac and last rites and stuff,” Tellis insisted, joining the others with Rainbow Dash still tucked under one arm. “We’d definitely know if the core was on track to blow.”

“I have disabled those functions as well,” Gaela replied calmly. “I have also severed diagnostic links with the bridge and replaced them with spoofed data, so they will be unaware of the reactor overload. We have at most half an hour until the core reaches critical containment failure and the Blessed Redemption is destroyed.”

Gaela unplugged her mechadentrites and servo arms, and then picked up the axe she had taken from the dead Techpriest in the underdeck junction. Then she swung it into the primary control console, causing an explosion of sparks and loose metal before all the holoscreens went dark.

“…… Huh. So I was wrong, I guess,” Tellis mumbled while the ponies stared at the Techpriest in mute horror. “Still, that was pretty clever! Good job! Mission complete!”

“No! No, not mission complete! We’re all going to die!” Rarity shrieked, rearing up and kicking her forelegs in a panic.

“I have an exfiltration plan.” Gaela stepped down from the main control platform. “We should leave this area immediately, however. The radiation and ambient heat will become lethal long before meltdown.”

Valves started popping loose of the main reactor column, firing disks of hot metal across the room and shooting jets of scalding steam into the air. The electric sparking around the spots of damaged cabling intensified, and a whip of intense voltage struck another Hormagaunt while the invaders rushed for the exits.

“Ah! No! Please be careful!” Fluttershy warned, hovering above the stream of aliens and trying to guide their way. “Move single file! No pushing!”

“Shy, we don’t have time fer this! Get ‘em outta here!” Applejack shouted, galloping alongside the herd of claws and chitin. One of the flying nozzle caps struck her shoulder pad and bounced into another Hormagaunt, punching through its armor plating and searing a tunnel through its torso.

“There’s no point in trying to protect them from immediate hazards,” Gaela explained, walking behind all the others at an unhurried pace. “They’re not coming with us, and they will not survive the reactor detonation.”

“Gaela, can we not have this argument right now?!” Twilight flew over the Tyranids and out into the hall. “Pinkie! We have to get out of here! The ship’s gonna blow!”

The Contemptor Dreadnought lumbered about to face the aliens and equines racing out of the reactor sanctum. “Oh, okay. When?”

“Half an hour!” Twilight shouted.

“Within half an hour,” Gaela corrected while she and Tellis stepped into the hall. “A more likely estimate is half that, but this is a volatile process by nature.” She pushed a Hormagaunt aside with the flat of her axe while she advanced past the others. “We’ll evacuate via the teleportarium. This way.”

“Ugh, the teleporter again? I hate that thing,” Rainbow Dash complained, finally hopping off of Tellis and flying down the hall with everyone else.

“Unless you plan on flying home, it’s our only option!” Twilight countered.

“… Wait, I can fly home, can’t I? I’m way faster than Fluttershy is! Where’s the nearest airlock?”

“It’s an awful long trip back to the flagship, Rainbabe,” Tellis pointed out. “Also there might still be a void battle going on, and macro cannon broadsides get a little intense. Let the nerds do their thing.”

“You could have WARNED us you were going to set the ship to explode!” Rarity griped. “A little more time to get out wouldn’t have hurt! You already disabled all the means to fix the core!”

“I wanted to pre-empt any arguments about the moral expediency of destroying the entire ship,” Gaela explained blandly. “Not least the argument with Fluttershy as to whether we can leave the infestation of killer xenos alive.”

“I wasn’t going to argue that!” the meek pegasus protested. “But… well, since we already have these little Tyranids with us-“

“We’re not taking them back,” Gaela interrupted. “Besides the obvious reasons, they won’t survive the teleportation process.”

“They won’t? Why not?” Tellis asked.

“Because I’m the only one who knows how to prepare the teleport and I’ll ensure they don’t,” the Techpriest explained. “Our armor is strong enough to resist a brief radiation burst that would kill every unshielded life-form on the teleportarium altar, but it would still inflict measurable tissue damage. Rarity in particular would regret having her follicles seared away. I recommend you don’t try to bring them along so I don’t have to do that.”

“Darling, I’m so sorry!” Rarity shook her head as she galloped up next to the pegasus. “I know you’ve gotten very attached to the horrible space monsters that would kill us all under slightly different circumstances, but you KNOW she isn’t bluffing and we don’t have time to fight about this!”

“Up ahead! The teleportarium!” Twilight announced after turning the corner.

An open door in the middle of a T intersection ahead marked their destination. Skull reliefs hung on either side of the passage, and the strange twin-headed eagle of the Imperium of Man was stretched over the entrance, glowering at those who might pass through.

Twilight and Rainbow Dash flew ahead of the others, landing at the intersection and checking the other corridors.

“It’s clear! We are outta here!” Rainbow cackled. “That is a WRAP ponies! Another mission complete and another bolter shell on our chains!”

Gaela and the others soon reached them, but the Dark Techpriest hesitated upon reaching the entrance.

“Gaela? Somethin’ the matter? We’re kinda in a hurry!” Applejack prodded.

“Nothing of consequence. Let us proceed,” the cyborg said before stepping into the gloom of the teleportarium.

The room was large, with racks of munitions lockers on one side and numerous columns rigged with skull reliefs and transformers. Bundles of cables hung between them and across the deck, much like the reactor sanctum, but without the constant thrum of racing energy. Near the back of the room stood the teleportation dais: a circular platform some twenty feet in diameter mostly surrounded by a cage of wire-strung metal bars and hanging under a grand sculpture of the Imperial Aquila. Twilight recalled that it looked similar to the equivalent device on the Harvest of Steel that they had used several hours ago to get here, but with fewer spikes and lots of red wax seals pinning scraps of writing to nearly every device and surface.

“I’ve already directed a considerable amount of the power overflow to this system,” Gaela advised the others while she reached the main control console and turned it on. “We should be able to depart within… a few minutes.” The Techpriest almost lost herself mid-sentence, feeling an inexplicable sense of unease. “I should do a preliminary check to make sure this device isn’t sabotaged.”

“Are you sure we have time for that?” Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Tellis entered after Gaela, but the others hesitated outside. Mostly because Fluttershy was mumbling sadly to the many Hormagaunts and they were reluctant to leave her with them.

“You do what you need to do, dear. Should we cover the hallway?” Rarity asked.

“Negative. It will be relatively easy to delay an assault long enough to depart, if necessary.” Gaela’s mechanical fingers were a blur over the console, flipping switches and swiping at readouts. “Enter and standby. And for all our sakes, keep the Tyranids outside!”

Fluttershy grimaced at hearing the command echo through her vox; Gaela had connected to her helmet vox specifically to ensure her point got across. The pegasus looked up into the curious, hopeful eyes of the thirty or so Hormagaunts that were clustered around the doorway, tails gently swaying and scything talons eagerly scraping each other. Some more of the creatures had evidently joined their group when she hadn’t been paying attention again. It made it all the more tragic that she had to leave them so soon.

Fluttershy’s helmet opened up, exposing her large teal eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I… failed,” she mumbled. “I can’t save you. None of us can.”

A Hormagaunt stepped forward and nuzzled its snout against her cheek. Fluttershy squeaked and giggled at the sensation, but it quickly petered out.

“You’ll be gone soon, but… it’ll be quick, at least. Nothing like the brutal, violent slog that you were fighting before.” One of her miniature servo arms reached out from her chest and scratched under an alien’s chin. “Thank you all so much for your help. I’m glad that… even if it was just for an hour… we got to be frien-“

Rarity’s scream cut off her sorrowful monologue, and Fluttershy flinched and whirled around. “Wh-What? What’s wrong?!”

Rarity had only moved a few steps into the teleportarium before suddenly stopping short. Her plasma gun quivered in the air, surrounded by her levitation magic, and then it dropped to the floor. The glowing circuit threading around her horn casing faded away, and the unicorn recoiled.

“It’s here!” she wailed in a panic. “The shadow! It’s here!”

The other ponies were startled and confused, but Gaela picked up on her meaning immediately. “A synapse beast? Here? But that would mean…”

A scraping noise and a low snarl came from above. An arc of plasma briefly flared around a capacitor, and the glow briefly illuminated a silhouette against the wall before it faded away.

Outside the teleportarium, Fluttershy’s heart skipped a beat. The mood of the Hormagaunts had changed in an instant. The primal, animal intellect in their eyes withdrew, and their bodies went still. Something else emerged to the fore, surfacing in their minds and smothering their individual will with practiced ease.

A deeper, higher intellect seized control, guided not by instinct or curiosity or even recognizable emotion, but by a hunger beyond mortal contemplation. Dozens of alien eyes blinked at the yellow pegasus, no longer seeing a pony but recognizing only a quivering lump of digestible mass. Fluttershy felt like a shard of ice had been plunged into her heart.

“Everypony LOOK OUT!!” she screamed, firing a photon grenade into the swarm and bolting away.

The stun grenade struck a Hormagaunt in the middle of the group and exploded, completely blinding half of them in an instant. The Tyranids in front, spared the intense pulsing light flare, surged forward all at once with sickle talons raised to slash and tear.

Fluttershy sprinted past Pinkie Pie and Applejack, who were both too surprised and confused by Rarity’s scream to properly react to Fluttershy’s follow-up scream. Applejack turned to look behind her just before a trio of Hormagaunts leapt onto her back and battered their talons against her armor. Pinkie Pie was a much larger target, and the first few Tyranids simply rammed themselves against the legs of her walker uselessly. More of the aliens followed after, leaping and climbing their brethren to climb higher onto the Dreadnought and claw at the gaps between the armor.

“Hey! No! Quit that!” Pinkie started to turn around, staggering slightly from the creatures swarming all around her. The Dreadnought’s heavy flamer ignited, incinerating a pair of Tyranids and splashing fire over the supply lockers.

“Do not fire heavy weapons in here! If you damage the machinery we cannot escape!” Gaela warned.

“Flutters, what happened? Your bugs are going crazy!” Rainbow Dash quickly shot back toward the entrance, spraying a pair of the aliens with shuriken. The mono-molecular blades sliced through the thin carapace armor with ease, and the Hormagaunts stumbled to the deck in a mess of ichor.

“The Tyranids are in their heads! I can’t stop them!” a scything blade struck her hind leg, and a Hormagaunt jumped to tackle her to the floor.

She kicked the alien away, smashing its teeth in with a ceramite-plated boot, and then started scrambling upright. “Gaela! Shut the door!”

“Incoming! Dash! Move!” Twilight shouted, firing off a magic missile from her horn.

“Yes, I see them! Fine!” Dash bounced upward into the air, evading a lunging Hormagaunt, and then twisted around to kick it aside.

“Forget the little ones! Above you!” Gaela shouted even while she continued working the control panel.

Dash whirled around just in time to see a large body kick off of a transformer tower above her. Four arms spread to cover as much area as possible, each one ending in claws like daggers. The Genestealer barely snarled as it descended on the pegasus, and it had only been spotted at all because Gaela was far more worried about hidden assailants than the swarm of lesser aliens that had turned on them. Rainbow Dash had swiveled about in time to spot the creature, but her boosters were in no position to do anything at that split-second; even her impulse blasters were aimed directly away from the attacker, ensuring that any discharge would send her flying into its arms.

The Genestealer descended, but landed instead on the chest plate of an Iron Warrior. Two of its arms were seized in an instant, even as the alien’s extra limbs carved into the thickened daemon plate. The Genestealer screamed into the Chaos Lord’s face, a howl of hunger and cold, bestial fury beyond mortal imagination.

“BEST MISSION EVER!!” Tellis cheered before crushing the Genestealer’s forearms and tearing them off.

The alien fell to the deck, recoiling from the severe wound, and Tellis promptly planted one of its own dismembered claws into its face. “Blood and skulls and stuff WHEEEEEEEE!!” he shouted before booting the alien away.

“Incoming! There are more of them!” Rainbow warned as more hulking bodies burst from hiding. Some of them leapt down on the boarding party from above, while others had been waiting quietly behind machinery.

“Got ‘em!” Tellis shouted, launching himself forward and sweeping his claws through one of the aliens. Another one tried to land on Rainbow, but with sufficient warning she veered away, keeping well ahead of the razor claws.

“The doors are non-functional! Engaging the blast shield!” Gaela shouted, slamming a fist onto a button.

An armored sheet of metal dropped in front of the entrance, falling onto the backs of two Hormagaunts and crushing them in an instant. Unfortunately it was largely too late; even most of the aliens initially blinded had already flooded inside, guided by the shared will of the hive mind.

“Git OFFA ME!” Applejack raged, kicking and stomping in a frenzy to shake loose the Tyranids biting at her and stabbing their claws into whatever joints and seams they could find. Hormagaunts sailed across the room and smashed against the deck, all but helpless to pierce her armor but driven beyond all reason to try.

“And there’s another!” Tellis drew his claws down a Genestealer’s chest and then punched it in the face, caving in the alien’s jaws and sending it spinning away.

Another Genestealer leapt at the raptor’s back, only to be struck in mid-jump by the wing of his flight pack. It landed nimbly on its feet, but before it could react further a set of lightning claws plunged into its neck.

“Ha ha! Too easy!” the Iron Warrior crowed while the alien’s claws fell slack. “What else you chumps got? Don’t tell me this is it?!”

“They have a Broodlord!” Gaela warned, still working at the console. “It is the source of the psionic control!”

“Broodlord? What’s a Broodlord?” Twilight asked while she helped blast Hormagaunts off of Pinkie Pie.

As if on command, another body dropped from above and landed in the middle of the teleporter platform. It was a Genestealer in form, with the same four-armed, humanoid physiology and armored carapace and elongated head, but larger. Whereas the Genestealers were almost as big as Space Marines – and only fell short in the comparison because they lacked power armor of their own – the Broodlord towered over Tellis as it stood to its full height. Its talons were the size of short swords, and the shaped plates that covered its body in lieu of artificial combat armor were as thick as the power armored equivalent.

Most of the boarding party was otherwise occupied when the psionic bio-form dropped into range, but Tellis and Rainbow Dash immediately leapt toward the new threat. Rainbow was faster, spinning away from a Hormagaunt in mid-swipe and blasting directly toward the Broodlord. Tellis slung away the other Tyranid on his claws first, and then bellowed incoherently as he barreled at the new target.

The Broodlord paid Rainbow Dash only a moment’s attention, locking its dark, gleaming eyes with the lenses of her helmet visor. To the speeding pegasus time seemed to slow down, and the alien’s eyes flashed a brilliant, disorienting cascade of colors. Rainbow’s vision started spinning, with her helmet display turning into a blur of twisting runes and fracturing geometric shapes. Then she flew face-first into a metal column.

“Eyes up here, buddy!” Tellis laughed, thrusting one set of claws at the Broodlord with a right hook.

It recoiled at the last moment, shifting backward to let the crackling power blades pass bare millimeters from its throat. Its own talons lashed out, only to strike against the other set of lightning claws and lose a bit of the hardened bone to the powered disruption field.

The Broodlord jumped back to avoid another swing, landing feet first on the teleporter’s cage and sticking to it. A feral snarl came from the creature, followed by another mesmerizing flash of light around its eyes, but unlike its previous target Tellis was completely unfazed.

“Slippery little bastard, aren’t you?! Bleed for me, insect! Ah ha ha ha haaaa!” With a deranged shout Tellis launched himself up at the alien, and the Broodlord again leapt out of range of the Chaos Lord’s claws.

“Gaela, can you help us out?!” Twilight shouted before magically hurling a Hormagaunt into several others that were chasing after Rarity.

“Negative! We are still on a narrow timeline for exfiltration!” Gaela tapped several buttons and then flipped a switch. “Make your way to the platform! I’m readying the radiation pulse!”

“No! Gaela!” Rarity screamed.

“We do not have time to humor your petty van-“

“Not that! Above! Gaela, run!” the unicorn interrupted again.

The warning came too late. The Genestealer fell upon the Dark Techpriest in a perfect lunge, scything talons poised just above her right shoulder. They punched through the outer layers of ceramite padding with only minor difficulty, and then ripped through the augmetic bracing underneath. The alien’s feet struck the deck, and a moment later Gaela did as well. Her right arm tumbled free of its socket, bouncing across the floor over a jet of dark fluids.

“Gaela, no!” Twilight tried to bring her force harmonizer about, but was tackled by a pair of Hormagaunts the moment her attention wandered. Teeth and claws raked furiously against her armor plating, seeking gaps between the plate that they could not pierce otherwise.

A servo arm on Gaela’s back swiveled around, but the Genestealer seized the pincer and tore it off with a swipe of its claws. Then it reached down and flipped the Dark Techpriest over before planting a foot on her belly to pin her down.

Gaela swung her remaining arm the moment she had the leverage, only to have the alien catch it by the vambrace and slam it back to the deck. It used two other arms to seize her extra servo limbs, holding them in place. The Genestealer loomed over her, snarling, and then its remaining hand reached for her helmet.

Fluttershy watched helplessly as her friends were overrun, the dread in her stomach reaching a horrific peak. Applejack was almost buried in Tyranids. Twilight was reduced to jumping and kicking wildly to try to keep the Hormagaunts away. Rarity was screaming and running in circles while the aliens chased her, nearly helpless without her levitation. Tellis gleefully fought the Broodlord, leaping and slashing furiously, but the alien remained on the defensive and dodged as much as it could, only striking back when it sensed an opening. Gaela was pinned. Rainbow Dash was still dazed, and trying to kick away a Hormagaunt chewing on her flight pack.

Only Pinkie Pie was making substantial progress against her assailants, having the good fortune to be inside a heavy siege walker rather than a mere armor suit. She plucked the Tyranids off of her one by one, crushing them in her power fist before tossing them aside like litter. A squeaky, enraged shout came from within the mighty war machine, and a leg kicked out and flung several Hormagaunts across the room.

One of the aliens bounced and rolled toward Fluttershy, and once it scrambled to its feet it spotted the meek, terrified pegasus. With a bestial snarl the Hormagaunt lunged, scything talons raised to slice into Fluttershy’s unprotected head.

Time seemed to slow down as Fluttershy’s heart rate surged. Her senses became crystal clear. Fury, sorrow, and horror became indistinguishable; a morass of hot, ugly emotion that wrapped around her heart and filled her with terrible strength.

Fluttershy swatted aside the claws, unbalancing the Hormagaunt. She slammed a boot down into its flank, pinning it to the deck. The alien turned its head to face hers, a shriek of protest building in its throat, but it couldn’t utter a sound once it locked eyes with the pegasus.

“I have had ENOUGH,” Fluttershy said, her voice seething with venom and her eyes almost glowing with anger. “Stop this. NOW. You will NOT take my friends from me!”

The Hormagaunt froze, its limbs seizing up as if it was paralyzed. Every other Hormagaunt also froze. The sudden, instinctual submission echoed through the psychic network of the Tyranids, soaking every one of the beasts in primal terror. Applejack finally managed to throw aside the aliens clinging to her, and Twilight and Rarity both got away from their pursuers as they faltered.

Gaela hissed in pain as the Genestealer ripped the face plate of her helmet off, slicing through a fair bit of her cheek in the process. It loomed closer, bits of spittle dripping onto her chin while its jaws yawned open. Its long tongue emerged and extended, reaching down for the cyborg's scowling face.

The alien suddenly flinched, snapping its head back as a surge of utterly unfamiliar terror flooded its mind. The empathic contamination lasted for merely a second before the psychic will of the Broodlord reasserted itself and purged the aberrant thoughts, but that distraction proved fatal.

A heavy laser blasted the Tyranid in the chest, burning straight through its torso and erupting out the other side. It recoiled again, shrieking, and then Gaela lurched up to a sitting position and grabbed the Genestealer’s face with her remaining arm. The ion blaster in that arm discharged, cooking the alien’s head in an instant.

“Lord Tellis!” Gaela shouted, kicking the Genestealer corpse off of her. “Get the Broodlord to the teleportation dais! It would seem we’re doing this the hard way!”

Tellis edged out of the path of some swiping claws, and then made a quick jab at his opponent. “Why? You wanna send him somewhere?” The Broodlord hopped backward and then shifted to the side, evading a much more powerful blow from the Raptor.

Gaela turned around to face the console again, pulling herself back to her feet. “We do not have time to argue! Just do it!” The tri-claws on her remaining augmetic flicked several switches, and the readout flashed red while several progress bars drained to nothing.

Tellis released a sudden, amplified shriek from his vox grille, and then charged toward the alien with a burst from his flight pack. His claws swung furiously ahead of him, cutting through the air in a frenzy of wild slashes that turned the air crimson.

Only the first swing grazed the Broodlord, which jumped backward to evade the assault. The alien landed in a crouch on the rear edge of the teleportation dais, touching the cage that surrounded most of the platform. Tellis followed it, his claws and flight pack spread to his sides like a falcon that had finally cornered it prey.

“The flesh is WEAK,” Gaela snarled, slamming her arm onto another button beneath a glass shield. “Rad-pulse initialized!”

A rapidly building hum came from the cage surrounding the altar, and several transformers around the teleportarium started sparking. The Broodlord kept its eyes – still aglow with psychic power, for all it mattered against the Mad Angel – locked on Tellis, and then started rushing toward him.

Tellis howled in delight, darting forward to meet the alien, but the move was a feint. As the Iron Warrior committed to the attack the Broodlord jumped off to the side with unnatural agility, just barely evading the crackling claws. It landed on the cage and then kicked off, bounding higher and angling to land outside the teleportation platform.

It found a flying pony in its path. The pony was the same one it had initially stunned with its psychic abilities, and was hovering with her greaves pointed straight toward it.

“Nope,” said Rainbow, activating her impulse blasters.

The Broodlord was flung back down to the platform, landing gracefully on its feet and skidding several feet across the surface. It was unharmed and still fully mobile, if not slightly disoriented.

Then the teleporter cage was flooded with cascading rad-bursts, and the Broodlord was harmed.

Great pulses of light warped the air within the cage, swallowing Tellis and the alien both. The paint was instantly stripped from the Iron Warrior’s armor, and sparks started shooting from his helmet and flight pack as the radiation damaged the more sensitive systems. For the Broodlord the damage was decidedly more dramatic: its carapace cracked, its muscles contracted, and its eyes went pale and deflated. Steam started pouring from its body as internal moisture boiled away in seconds and forced its way out through fresh, scalding wounds.

Even under such intense damage, the Broodlord didn’t perish. Its body was highly resistant to all manner of harmful energies and its unnatural vigor was greater than even the Astartes. It was badly damaged and briefly stunned, however, and Tellis – unfortunately for the xeno – was both extremely resilient and properly protected.

The Raptor Lord plunged his talons into the Broodlord’s neck while it was still staggered. “CRITICAL HIT!” he shouted gleefully, twisting the claws and then tearing them free with a spray of arterial fluids. The Broodlord recoiled, gasping, and Tellis brought his other arm around in a wide, crackling arc. In a flash of crimson the Broodlord was decapitated, and its limbs slackened before its body finally keeled over.

Every other Tyranid was sent reeling from the sudden shock of its death, and again the Hormagaunts found their guiding will shattered. This time it was no momentary lapse, however: the lesser aliens immediately broke and ran, fleeing toward the doors and clawing against it desperately. Pinkie smashed an alien under her power fist and then suddenly found no others within reach. Applejack zapped one of them with her gravity lash and flung it aside into one of its broodmates. Rarity finally felt the shadow lift its dampening effect from her mind, but by the time she finally lifted her sword and gun again the fight was over.

As the other mares gathered their wits, Fluttershy gently cleared her throat. “Uhm… so… I feel like I should apolo-“

The sound of an explosion came from deeper in the ship, and the deck quivered underfoot.

“Get on the dais! The core is melting down! We are out of time!” Gaela was still making adjustments as best she could with her remaining limbs, poking and swiping at the screens with her tri-claw and a servo probe.

The ponies groaned but swiftly moved to comply, galloping to the teleportation platform. Applejack seemed to have the most trouble, lurching painfully across the teleportarium while leaving a trail of blood – not all of it hers – in her wake. Twilight likewise limped her way onto the dais, but paused long enough to levitate Gaela’s dismembered arm along with her.

“I just wanna say, this went GREAT. I’m really glad I jumped in at the last moment and got us beamed to the wrong place!” Tellis said, holding the decapitated Broodlord head under one arm.

“Shut up, Tellis,” Applejack said weakly, collapsing as soon as she was entirely on the platform.

Gaela smashed another button with her blaster arm, and then turned on her heel and sprinted to the teleportation dais. Once there she kicked the Broodlord’s corpse off the platform, and then leaned awkwardly against Pinkie’s Dreadnought, her armored body being badly unbalanced with only one arm. The teleporter’s transformers started sparking again, and a deep thrumming noise came from the coils behind the platform.

“Are we SURE we don’t want to take any of the ‘Nids back for a Fluttershy brood?” Tellis said suddenly. “Just one. I can jet over there and be back in two seconds.”

“SHUT UP, TELLIS!” snapped every pony other than Rainbow Dash (who wisely resisted egging him on).

The teleport engaged, enveloping the boarding party in light and whisking them away from the dying ship.

Barely a minute later, flames engulfed the teleportarium as the substructure was torn apart from secondary detonations. The mighty void ship died with a ferocious howl, muted though it was by the airless void. Hundreds of Tyranids still stalking its depths were pulverized in an instant, as were the several dozen human crew who were still laboring obliviously to bring the vessel’s combat systems on-line.

The Blessed Redemption was no more.

Author's Note

Here's a bit of ponyhammer to ease the misery of quarantine. May Nurgle's blessings fall lightly upon us :twilightoops:

Portents

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 4
Portents

Harvest of Steel
Section 8 mess hall

“That was the most intense debriefing we’ve had in a while, wasn’t it?” Rarity grumbled while she stepped into line behind another pony. “What was all the fuss about? Poor Applejack was lying on the deck for nearly an hour before they finally deigned to treat her injuries!”

“It was something about the Genestealers, I think. When we mentioned them the mood changed right away,” Twilight replied. “But they did all the tissue sampling and… very invasive probes… and cleared us, so everything is fine now. Probably.”

“Well if there’s one thing I can trust Chaos Space Marines with, it’s that they wouldn’t hesitate to put a bolt through our heads if we were infected by evil alien parasites or something,” Rarity sighed.

“Depends, really. Ah imagine they’d invite ya to join the Nurgle cult first. THEN they’d off ya if ya refused,” Applejack drawled.

“Do you think we should have left Fluttershy alone? She seemed… not very smiley when she left,” said Pinkie.

“The past several hours have been quite hard on her, darling. Let the poor dear have some time to reflect on what happened. If anything it’s Gaela we should be worried about.”

“How ya figger? She lost her arm with more grace and calm than Ah lose a loose bit.”

“I’m not referring to the shock of the combat; Celestia knows mere violence could never rattle that woman. But she was giving Fluttershy the cold shoulder ever since we escaped the ship!”

“… What, like colder’n normal?”

“Well… maybe not, but still!”

The mares of Equinought Squadron aside from Fluttershy made idle chatter about their mission as the line advanced down the side of the mess hall. For once none of them were wearing armor, and of the five three of them bore bandaging to cover up their very recent medicae treatment. Rainbow Dash had a bandage and a thin metal brace around her head and seemed exceptionally unhappy about it. Twilight was walking with a limp, and her leg was wrapped up in bandages to protect the new nano-stitching.

Applejack had bandages on every leg and part of her neck, and a thermal compress was attached to her head where part of her mane had been shaved off. Several of the other ponies passing by couldn’t help but stare, but the farmer ignored all of them. Aside from the conversation, her attention was focused on dinner.

The tables at one end of the mess were piled high with tinned nutrient gruel at one end, but the rest of the space was devoted to planetside fare. Salads, sandwiches, and fresh bread were provided by a trio of ponies standing behind the counter and cooking furiously to keep up with the flow of hungry soldiers. A rickety-looking plasma furnace acted as a makeshift stove, grilling hayburgers and heating a fryer full of potatoes. As a cooking operation it was ramshackle and poor quality, but compared to the pile of canned rations it was nothing short of luxurious.

That said, Rainbow Dash and Twilight didn’t even give the real food a second look. Twilight levitated a can onto one of her wings along with a cup of water and then trotted off to the dining benches. Rainbow Dash did the same, although she took two of each.

“Howdy, chef! Ah’ll take a hayburger,” Applejack requested, tapping a bandaged hoof on the table. “Medium rare, please.”

The cook glanced back from the plasma furnace. “Hayburgers come raw, well done, or accidentally scorched to a crisp.”

“Er… ya can’t manage somethin’ between raw and well?”

“Mare, I have been TRYING,” he retorted.

“All right, gimme yer best well done, then,” Applejack reluctantly agreed.

Before she’d even finished speaking, the plasma furnace started sparking near its power supply. The cook yelped and took a spatula in his mouth, trying to rescue the patties in time, but a bright blue flash briefly consumed the hay patties and spatula head atop the burner and then receded. Dark smoke puffed up from the grill surface, briefly giving everyone a whiff of cindered carbon before it was sucked into the atmospheric recycler above.

“Ugh. Five accidentally crisped hayburgers up,” the cook grumbled.

He turned the spatula around to bring the first patty over a bun, and then flipped it over. The patty did not separate from the spatula’s surface. “… Make that four. One of them fused to the utensils again.”

The stallion tossed away the spatula in disgust. Applejack wordlessly turned back toward the tower of ration tins and took one in her mouth, and then trotted out to join Rainbow Dash and Twilight. Rarity and Pinkie quickly followed with their own meals.

“If they’re having difficulty with the equipment, can’t they enlist a Techpriest to fix it? This ship is lousy with them,” Rarity mused, sliding into place next to Twilight.

“Ah think the techies are a little busy right now, Rares,” Applejack replied before slipping onto the bench next to her. “We just nabbed ourselves a space city, y’know. Priorities.”

“Bah! If I let the Company’s ‘priorities’ dissuade me from asking for little favors here and again, NOTHING would ever get done!” the unicorn replied before stabbing a fork into her salad. “Let’s ask Gaela to do it!”

“She… kinda lost an arm, Rarity,” Rainbow mumbled around a mouthful of nutrient paste.

“And then Twilight found the arm. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was back in working order before we finished supper!”

“Ooh! I know! We should ask Gears!” Pinkie chirped, waving a hoof in the air. “He’s always good to do chores that are beneath all the other techpeoples!”

Twilight and Applejack didn’t recognize the name, but Rarity shook her head. “He’d be perfect for the task, but he’s still back home. I don’t think the Mechanicus trusts him to be on a void ship yet.”

“Lame.” Rainbow dropped her empty tin on the table and then snatched up a cup of water with her wing to wash it down.

“I’ll see if Spike can help. He’s become pretty handy with the less sophisticated machines,” Twilight said. “A plasma kiln should be within his abilities.”

“Hey ladies! This spot taken?”

Lightning Dust trotted up to the table with a plate balanced atop her wings. A pair of other mares followed her; one was a unicorn almost completely obscured by a hooded cloak and bandage wrappings, while the other was a scowling gray pegasus with a blond mane and several scars. The second pegasus wasn’t wearing anything except her Chaos Star ID tags, and boasted substantial augmentation; both her forelegs and her right eye had been replaced by mechanical equivalents, and her flank had metal panels that suggested internal work as well. She also bore the Mark of Khorne as her cutie mark, immediately putting the Equinoughts on alert.

“Sergeant Dust! Hi! Uhm… are these your friends?” Twilight asked while the new arrivals sat down.

“Nah, they’re kind of a drag, really. But Shifty’s a big fan, so I figured why the hay not?” Lightning Dust chuckled and put down her plate. “Introduce yourselves, creeps!”

“Hi! I’m Shifty Sights!” the unicorn said brightly, standing her forelegs on the tabletop. “It’s such an honor to meet you, Princess Sparkle! You’re an inspiration!”

The others hadn’t noticed right away because the augmented pegasus was so eye-catching, but with Shifty as the center of attention they realized that the hooded pony had a Tzeentch-marked blindfold wrapped around her head. It wasn’t especially conspicuous with the rest of the mare’s outfit, either; she was wrapped up so completely that only her horn and muzzle were exposed. Thanks to that they could see that her coat was a shade of blue only a little lighter than Rainbow’s.

“Hello Miss… uh… Sights,” Twilight said awkwardly, stumbling over the irony of the name. “You can call me Twilight. There’s no need to be so formal amongst us pirate raiders! Heh!”

“Oh, thank you! You’re just as kind and humble as they say!” Shifty cooed, dropping back to a seated position. “Between the protection of Chaos, the technical brilliance of the Mechanicus, and the famous magical savant Sparkle, the enemy doesn’t stand a chance! Our paths are clear!”

“… Are you done?” the augmented pegasus asked, nonplussed. When Shifty nodded she waved a wing. “I’m Steely Lathe. Not a fanfilly or anything, I just work here.”

“I like your robot legs! Super cool!” Pinkie gushed.

“Yeah, they are pretty cool aren’t they?” Steely said with a smirk. “I’ll be glad when we drop and I can put them to work. They didn’t let me in the space station. Afraid I’d break something important or something dumb like that.”

Rainbow perked up. “You’re going to Ghessheim?”

Lightning Dust nodded while she ate. “We were given enough time for a meal, but we have to be ready to jump into the transports and ship out. I haven’t seen the final attack plans yet, though.”

“That is SO unfair!” Rainbow griped, turning to Twilight and gesturing to the ponies across the table. “Why do THEY get to go planetside?”

Lightning and Steely looked perplexed, although Shifty endured the conversation with an unflinching smile. Twilight sighed and rubbed her forehead with her hoof.

“Probably because they didn’t get ambushed by space monsters and barely escape an exploding void ship, Dash. We assaulted an enemy vessel and completed a major objective already. Let it go.”

“They already healed us! We could do another mission today!” Rainbow protested.

“Not that I have anything less than complete confidence in the mighty Equinoughts,” Shifty interjected, “but miss Applejack looks like she could use a good night’s sleep. You’ve done enough. We’ll take it from here.”

Rainbow picked up her water cup with a wing and then gulped down its contents, forelegs crossed in front of her chest. Then she slammed the empty cup down on the table sourly. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Fine. It’s still lame, though.”

“Rainbow, Darling, were you really looking forward to swooping down on helpless cities and plundering them THAT badly?” Rarity asked.

“It’s not that! It’s just that this is the first alien planet we’ve been to after leaving Equestria!” Rainbow said, relaxing her obstinate pose. “It’s a whole other world! Don’t you want to see what that’s like? What if it’s some kind of super weird place, like… like an ice planet full of walking snowmen! Or a gas giant full of lightning tornadoes! Or some kind of giant metal orb that’s actually an enemy space station!”

Pinkie Pie gasped and marveled at the ideas, but the other ponies just seemed perplexed.

“You know you can just look up the planet profile in the briefing dossier, right?” Steely asked, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s an ocean world.”

“I… Oh. Okay.” Rainbow uncrossed her forelegs, looking slightly embarrassed. “Still! Ocean worlds sound cool! What if there are some amazing alien fish?”

“I think there were, actually, but human colonists ate them all,” Steely shrugged. “Shame, I guess.”

“The continental structure is pretty interesting!” Lightning Dust said brightly. “I read that there was very little land that was actually above water when they found Ghessheim V, but there were lots of underwater shelves that formed big plateaus of shallows. So they built the hive cities on the shallows, and eventually boiled away or shipped off enough of the ocean to expose the land around the hives! So now they have all these beachfronts around the cities!”

“Oh! That actually does sound rather lovely!” Rarity said. “Maybe we’ll get the chance to head down after most of the fighting is over.”

“Boooooriiiiiiing!” Pinkie jeered.

“Strategically it means there’s not a lot of open ground for dropping troops, though, and there’s a lot of anti-air guns. Tricky to attack unless we’ve got a lot of battle dinghies somewhere around here,” Steely paused to scarf down some bread, and then looked up at Twilight. “We don’t actually have battle dinghies, do we?”

“I don’t believe we do, no,” Twilight assured her.

“I’m sure Sliver or Harlin will think of something. We took Eschel without a problem and they say that most of the system’s defense assets are stationed to protect the capital on the moon.” Lightning Dust paused to take a drink. “We’re not attacking the capital, so we shouldn’t have to face the worst of it.”

Applejack had been staring at Shifty while the mares discussed Ghessheim, and once she sensed a lull in the conversation she spoke up. “Hey, can Ah ask ya somethin’? It might be kinda touchy, Ah dunno.”

“It’s about the blindfold, isn’t it?” Shifty replied, still smiling brightly. “I get that a lot. Plus I can see the future, so y’know.”

“Yeah. What’s the deal? Did ya go blind when ya gave up yer pony soul or were ya like that already?” the farmer asked.

Shifty giggled. “Neither! I’m not blind at all!”

“Oh. So… what’s with the blindfold, then?” Rainbow pressed.

“Well, to be clear, when I swore my life to Tzeentch he did take my eyes away,” Shifty said, causing the mares on the other side of the table to recoil in shock. “But I’m not blind! What Tzeentch has given me in return lets me see better than I ever could before!”

She brought a silk-wrapped hoof to her muzzle, giggling some more. “I may not be able to appreciate the colors of a fresh rose bouquet as you can, but I can see your spirits, shining with passion or unease! I can see the threads of possibility unwind before me! I can see the secrets of others stashed away in the dark corners of your thoughts!”

“D’ya ever run inta things ‘cuz yer busy lookin’ at souls and secrets and stuff and ya didn’t see a chair in yer way?” Applejack asked bluntly.

Apparently Shifty hadn’t foreseen this query, because her expression promptly soured. “Oh for... NO, I don’t trip on things,” she grumbled. “In addition to the fantastic and otherworldly wych-sight I ALSO receive a localized mental image of boring mundane matter around me for basic spatial awareness. It’s just boring, so I prefer talking about all the cool magic senses.” She turned her head to the side and pouted. “Not that it’s much better than plain sight, but having a psionic radar sense means I can’t be tricked by holo-images or photon bursts or other light-based tricks, either.”

“Okay, sure, but you also can’t read,” Steely interjected.

“I CAN TOO READ!!” Shifty howled, jumping up and bristling like an enraged feline. The other ponies recoiled in alarm, and then she scrunched up her muzzle. “It’s… It’s just really hard. The color definition… isn’t great.”

“You know that you can just get new eyes installed, right? We have those now,” Rainbow reminded her.

“That’s not how it works!” Shifty complained. “The Dark Gods don’t just let you fix whatever they take from you! That’s cheating!”

“Khorne doesn’t care,” Steely countered.

“There’s no augmetic replacement for your impulse control!” the unicorn fumed.

A crackling noise from above heralded a message from the ship’s vox caster. The Harvest of Steel has achieved low orbit over Ghessheim V. A bounty of slaves and war material await the chosen of the Dark Gods! All crews remain at battlestations! Landing teams, return to your barracks for assignment! That is all.

“Sounds like it’s time for the next op.” Lightning Dust shoveled the rest of her meal into her mouth and then pushed away from the table.

“FINALLY! The angry voice is getting antsy.” Steely slammed a power hoof into the table, denting it halfway to the floor and startling the other ponies. Most of them had already finished their meals, but the various plates, tins, and glasses jumped from the impact and then started rolling and sliding into the crease.

“Hey! Watch it!” Pinkie complained, catching her plate before it slid out of reach.

Steely seemed to ignore her and jumped into the air, zipping straight for the exit. Lightning Dust offered an embarrassed shrug before she did the same. Only Shifty remained behind, muttering under her breath about Khornate thugs.

“I’m not sure I care for this new cultist trend,” Rarity opined, levitating her salad plate before stabbing her fork into a stack of leaves. “No offense to you, Miss Sights, but I find the sale of pony souls in exchange for power quite distasteful.”

Shifty’s mood changed immediately, and she giggled lightly. “And yet how far you’ve already come! It wasn’t so long ago that Chaos was an evil invader to be purged from Equestrian lands!” Her cheeks stretched into a grin that was just a little too wide to be normal. “How long do you think it will be before you take the next step? And to which patron~?”

“Look, we all understand the compromises we’ve made to get this far,” Twilight interjected, her voice grim.

“I don’t!” Pinkie chirped, waving a hoof in the air.

“We bargained ourselves for the power that the Iron Warriors offered, and we’re not even close to paying for that,” Twilight continued, completely ignoring her bubbly companion. “We’re going to spend the rest of our lives – however long that is, under these conditions – flitting around the galaxy fighting enemies we have no qualms with and stealing for the benefit of a cruel, terrible army.”

Then she stood her forelegs onto the table, lifting herself up higher and spreading her wings slightly. “But we made no bargain with the Dark Gods. We demanded nothing from them, and owe them nothing. And that’s the way I intend to keep it.”

Shifty’s grin shrunk to a mere smirk. “Do you really think it will be that easy?”

“Of course not. These things never are,” Twilight admitted, her eyes narrowing. “Although while we’re on the topic, you cultists don’t make a great pitch for it.”

“Poison Kiss STILL laments her inability to find a date,” Rarity sighed. “All that Nurgle ‘fecundity’ can be a problem, after all.”

Shifty laughed. “Very well! It isn’t my place lecture the Elements of Harmony – the famed guardians of Equestria – on how best to serve our new masters!”

Shifty hopped backward off the bench and then seemed to burst into a cloud of colored smoke. The other ponies recoiled, and then flinched again when the cultist’s voice came from behind them.

“Trust your instincts, Miss Sparkle. They’ve served you well so far.” The unicorn’s voice seemed to be a whisper on the wind, entering Twilight’s ears from everywhere and nowhere. “Fight for them. Save them. The toll will come in time.”

Shifty Sights slinked away out the door, leaving the mess hall and the Equinoughts behind.

“Well, that was a mite disturbin’ but Ah’m too tuckered to worry about it,” Applejack stepped off the bench and stretched, her back cracking gently. “Ah think Ah’m gonna hit the space hay.”

“I wanna get a look at the planet,” Rainbow Dash huffed. “If I can’t go, can I at least watch? Like… get a vid feed from someone on the ground or something?”

“Oh, that sounds like a lovely idea!” Rarity said, her mood brightening instantly. “I know just who to ask, too! Twilight, darling, do you want to join us?”

“Actually, I wanted to start perusing the archives on the Tyranids,” Twilight mumbled, still somewhat distracted by Shifty’s parting words.

“Oh, of course you do,” Rarity grumbled, her ears flipping down. “It was never going to be enough that we spent hours having those filthy monsters following Fluttershy around like orphaned puppies and gnawing on our greaves. You want to see how their disgusting weapons propel swarms of biting insects and how their terrible gestalt hive mind pins down individual victims in multiple times and places.”

“No, it’s not that! I just want…” Twilight trailed off mid-protest. “… Actually yes. I want to know both those things now. But I have other, less macabre questions too!”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic, darling. By all means, enjoy yourself,” Rarity said with a gentle smirk as she turned away.

“I’m gonna go feed the crew mummies!” Pinkie said brightly, holding up a plate of slightly burnt dinner rolls.

“Didn’t the ship try to eat you the last time you did that?” Rainbow asked on her way out.

Pinkie shook her head and started trotting along behind the others. “No, that wasn’t why the ship tried to eat me! Feeding them seemed to make her pretty mad, though!”

Twilight raised a hoof and opened her mouth. Then, after several seconds of hesitant silence, she put her hoof down. Pinkie merrily trotted out of the mess hall, still carrying the food on her back.

“… Right. Well. Onto the archives, then,” the alicorn mumbled, getting up from her bench.

Harvest of Steel
Primary Strategium

“Materials shipping seems to have suffered in recent days. I’ve perused their inventory logs, and there was an unusual glut in supplies that didn’t match their revenue. We might have caught them at a bad time. Quite fortunate for us.”

Sliver stared silently at the hololith map in the center of the table, his hands resting on his hammer. The hololith displayed a towering hive city with numerous red bricks scattered around it to represent enemy units and fortifications. Much of the data was gleaned from the datastacks of the space station Eschel, thankfully spared when Chrysalis had prevented the defenders from sabotaging the station.

A pair of Iron Warriors reviewed the hololith with him, while Dark Magos Kaelith and Trademaster Norris Delgan joined the meeting via holoscreens. Sliver was only half-listening to Delgan discuss the looting of Eschel, his mind focused on the next stage of the invasion.

“There was an additional bounty in Eschel’s extensive living quarters, which housed some five thousand workers. Many survived the assault rather than taking up arms, and a good quarter of those were willing to renegotiate their contracts. They’re ours now,” Delgan explained.

“Corrective: Those not contracted will serve as well, in the slave pits. All the laborers are ours now,” Kaelith hissed.

“Well don’t tell them that YET. Let the menials transfer before you start rounding up the loyalists,” Delgan grumbled. “I’m sure you’d rather have them all in chains, but that’s bad for morale and we could use the workers back home.”

Kaelith shrieked something in Binaric Cant, and then proceeded with his own report. “Informational: Materials scavenging is proceeding 0.8 cycles behind schedule. Causation: Structural damage due to the detonation of a grand cruiser-class void ship in close proximity to Eschel has caused multiple hull breaches and required access restriction to key areas.”

“It wass ssomewhat impetuouss of Techpriesst Gaela to annihilate the entire vesssel,” Sliver admitted. “But her actionss were acceptable. Tyranidss are not to be taken lightly, Dark Magoss. Continue with your dutiess and sstrip the sstation barren. The delay will not endanger our objectivess.”

A Warpsmith spoke up as soon as he was finished. “The Imperial dogs have responded as we anticipated. The moon Ulaisse has gone on high alert. We’ve detected rampant comms traffic and countless fighter craft being scrambled. They’ve even roused a pair of Titans to the capital’s defense. Combined with the anti-ship batteries, the capital fortress would be an excellent test of the Legion’s siege masters.”

“Another time, another army,” Sliver said blandly. “We’re not here to crack open their little vault. Hive city Xenith will be the primary target.”

Sliver jabbed a finger at the hololith, and then it zoomed in on the city’s spires. “The hive iss well-protected from above but vulnerable to a ground asssault. Few obsstacle defenssess were built the lasst time thiss planet ssaw an Ork raid. Insstead they rely on hardened point-defensse sstationss and mobile armor divissionss to defeat invaderss. A workable sstrategy… but their troopss are weak and inexperienced. The vasst majority of thiss sstar’ss military ressourcess protect the capital on Ulaissse.

“Their militias will be turned to wreckage for the Scavurel to pick over,” a Warpsmith sneered. “The army is ready to deploy on your order, Lord.”

“They will hold until I grant the order to deploy. It should be no more than five sstandard hourss,” Sliver assured them. “Provide the sstrike teamss with detailed pictss of the enemy defenssess and their intended incurssion path while they wait. The defenssive web will need to be dissentangled rapidly once the vanguard hass pierced the hive barrierss.”

One of the Warpsmiths bowed and left the table. The others seemed perplexed, and one eventually spoke up.

“Why the delay, Lord? They’re mobilizing their defenses as we speak,” asked one of the commanders.

“In addition, this system is too well-traveled to stay for long. Several transport vessels escaped during our initial assault on the space station,” the other Warpsmith hissed. “I do not wish to organize another emergency evacuation because an enemy battlefleet arrived for resupply.”

“I am well aware of the risskss,” Sliver said calmly. “But the Warssmith inssissted I put our new pet to work… I think he’ss afraid she might get bored if she’ss sstuck on the Harvesst of Ssteel.” A deep, rumbling chuckle came from the Chaos Lord. “For now, we wait.”

“Ah, that one,” the Warpsmith replied bitterly. “I don’t care for the shape-shifter. Leaving her free reign so soon after her attack upon us… it sends the wrong message.”

“The equines have been complaining to you too, have they?” asked the other Warpsmith, smoke puffing out of his backpack. “They’re terrified of the changeling. It’s slightly galling how much more they trust us.”

“Enough,” Sliver announced. “If you are concerned about our ability to flee the ssysstem before an Imperial blockade arrivess, you may prepare withdrawal planss. For now, our sstrategy demandss we wait.”

“Of course, Lord Sliver,” the Warpsmith replied, his mechatendrils drooping as if cowed. “I only hope this feeble witch vindicates the faith you’ve placed in her.” Another puff came from his smokestacks. “I somewhat prefer having Equinought Squadron in charge of the unlikely key missions.”

Sliver said nothing for several seconds. “… I concur,” he finally replied. “Deception iss not my favored tactic. But the equiness were quite exhaussted by their incurssion into the Blesssed Redemption. Let our other pawnss show their worth.”

Ghessheim V
Hive city Xenith – city ramparts

“Hive militia is being rounded up, Captain. We have about three thousand so far in addition to the standard planetary defense division, but they’re proving difficult to deploy so rapidly. We won’t be able to rely on penal militias this time, with the fourth planet cut off, but we’ll be able to fully man the ramparts. All turrets have been checked and blessed by the Enginseers. Armored divisions have been mobilized and are awaiting deployment, but there’s fewer than we’d like. Still, with the PDF formations and our defensive emplacements we should be able to keep the traitor scum out of the inner hive.”

Valkyrie gunships rocketed through the air, winding around the towering spires of the hive city. Guns bristled from the great towers, creating webs of deadly fire zones outside and inside the city’s reach. On the wide streets below, tanks and APCs rumbled into position, flanked by squads of light walkers and rows of marching infantry. It was a sight to make the heart sing, and the cheers of citizens from sidewalks and windows boomed through the hive.

It wouldn’t be enough. Not nearly enough.

“We’re not up against Orks this time, Lieutenant. Have you ever fought traitors before?” the Captain asked, gazing stonily over the ramparts on the city’s edge.

“Just once, Captain. Heretic cell rose up two years ago. Not much of a fight, honestly.”

“Underhive thugs and disgruntled miners, then,” the Captain rumbled. “What we’re up against now is very different.”

“We’ll be ready, Captain!” the soldier retorted, saluting sharply. “Speaking plainly, Sir, I think the lads’ll be glad to fight something other than greenskins. Xeno filth are nearly inexhaustible. Pirate scum will be a good change of pace.”

The officer didn’t reply right away, staring stone-faced at the procession of men and armor passing through the streets. The soldiers were experienced, and the armored company well-maintained, but he knew what was waiting to drop on them from orbit. Traitorous soldiers, well-supplied and motivated. Mechanicus heretics, carrying blasphemous weapons and forbidden arts. And worst of all, Space Marines.

Also there were some datascribes that swore they saw small horses or something in the picts transmitted from Eschel. He didn’t really know what to make about that.

“Get that militia deployed at once. I want everyone currently armed and ready placed throughout the buildings on the outer ring,” the Captain ordered. “The others you round up in the meantime we’ll keep in reserve, to give them extra time to prepare. We don’t know where the enemy will strike first, or if they-“

“Lord Captain! Sir! I have a message!”

The officers whirled around to face a soldier who was sprinting to meet them atop the roof. The newcomer was a young Planetary Defense Force regular, with clean, crisp flak armor that was painted gray with golden slashes across the chest and shoulders. The soldier slowed his approach and saluted, clearly trying to contain his excitement.

“Yes? Speak!” the Captain snapped. “This had better be important if you couldn’t tell me through the vox.”

“It is, Lord Captain!” the soldier said, his voice calming. “A Sentinel patrol returned after investigating an object that came from orbit and landed outside the hive city! It was a savior pod!”

“A savior pod? From which vessel?” The Captain stroked the thin beard hanging from his chin thoughtfully. “Three friendly vessels were lost and another severely damaged during the orbital assault. It wasn’t from the Blessed Redemption, was it?”

“No, Lord Captain,” the soldier said with barely concealed excitement. “It’s from the space station Eschel itself! The Director Primus escaped!”

The officers blinked and glanced at each other. “Director Issen Von Kerrig escaped? How?”

“He says he repelled the first attacks on the command center, Lord Captain, and then led a counter-charge. Eventually they were overrun, but he and a few armsmen were able to get to the pods. There were a few men that were found with him, but they didn’t survive their injuries, I’m afraid.” The soldier shook his head. “The Director’s been wounded as well, but he seems to be in stable condition. He demands to see the General.”

“Have any other savior pods landed on-world?” the Captain asked.

“No, Lord Captain. The scouts found nothing else, nor did the augur stations detect any other drops.”

The Captain grunted and adjusted his cap. “Send him to the Polaris bunker complex. I’ll meet him in the yard. We’ll see what the Director has to say…”

“Yes, Lord Captain! Right away!”

“Fellow servants of the Emperor, grant me your leave! Our enemies grow in number! Even now, they watch from above! Every shadow, within and without, holds the blight of Chaos, and time is against us!”

“Yes, Lord Director, we, uh, we understand. But-“

“Even now, a great evil – a shadow that threatens to consume ALL – hangs over us, noble servants of the Imperium! We must act, for every second the claws of darkness tighten their grip on our fair planet!”

“Y… Yes, Lord Director. That’s… look, we’ll get you to the General soon, so, please… calm down, Lord.”

The Taurox armored truck rumbled through the streets of the hive city, speeding past barricades and groups of soldiers manning checkpoints. A pair of Sentinels followed the vehicle in a sprint, escorting the APC closely enough to pick up the ranting of its occupant. Buildings stretched into the sky all around them, and barricades were being rapidly set up at every intersection.

Chrysalis crossed her arms over her chest and laid back in her seat, frowning petulantly. Several exasperated soldiers shared the vehicle with her, while a combat medic carefully dressed the lasburn on her leg. The burn was, unlike her current body, totally real; once again she’d had to get a trooper to shoot her for the sake of her cover story. Even the wound in the leg she had taken during the fight over Eschel’s command center hadn’t sufficed. Damage to one body didn’t look right in the next after a morphing spell.

Aside from the frequent need to suffer minor injuries, she was actually rather enjoying herself. Mimicking a particular, known individual was always more dangerous and interesting work than making up a character, and Issen Von Kerrig was a particularly overdramatic soul. She’d spent half the trip hamming it up and ranting obliquely about some Holy Emperor and rather than being suspicious the enemy troops only seemed annoyed.

Giving a thought about the ultimate objective of this venture, she tilted her head toward the vision slit on the side of the passenger compartment. Vast buildings lined every street, towering into the sky. Windows and balconies covered much of the surface, along with the odd relief of a twin-headed eagle or a skull, while enclosed walkways connected the buildings high up in the air. Chrysalis couldn’t see the tops of the structures, and anyway couldn’t seem TOO impressed by the sight of a planet she was supposed to be mostly familiar with, but she had never seen civilization on such a scale before.

Canterlot was like a child’s playset next to the mighty iron tenements of Ferrous Dominus, and those hefty metal blocks seemed downright modest and puny next to the spires of a hive city. Assuming the human residents of the hive used the vast spaces with any efficiency, she guessed the population of the city was in the millions, at least. How did the Iron Warriors expect to seize such a huge population center? The soldiers scurried around the streets like ants on patrol, carrying more munitions and weaponry than she remembered seeing scattered around in the Ork camps she had visited.

Then again, the main reason for her deployment was to ease that burden.

“The Emperor’s light burns ever brighter as the foul heretics descend upon us, and so it will snuff out this plague!” Chrysalis erupted into another speech, thumping a fist against her chest. She winced slightly as the impact resonated more sharply than she intended, causing small pinpricks of pain up and down her torso. The core was still working, obviously – she’d be dead by now if it wasn’t – but it still seemed slightly creaky from the damage it had taken in her last infiltration. “Take heart, brothers! For here we shall stand in the flames of righteousness! Whether it should consume us or our foes, we will not falter! We will not yield! We WILL NOT-“

“Lord Director, we’re here!” shouted a guard as the Taurox started to turn the corner. “Thank the saints! There’s the fortress!”

“Just a little further, my Lord,” another guard assured their guest. “Please, compose yourself. The Officer Strategis is stretched thin right now, but I’m sure the Lord General can host you.”

Chrysalis straightened and made a show of dusting off her las-burnt cuirass. This was the moment she had been anticipating with equal parts dread and excitement. No one had yet doubted her story, but so far all she had met were slack-jawed troopers. Hopefully that would be enough, but changeling queen didn’t really expect she’d gain access to the enemy’s headquarters as easily as she had on Eschel.

The Taurox rumbled to a stop and the guards unlocked and opened the door ahead of her. Chrysalis stood up, peered outside for a moment, and then stepped onto the streets of Xenith. The Sentinel walkers stopped only long enough for their guest to disembark, and then they swiftly turned around and dashed back where they came from.

Before the disguised changeling stood a military yard stacked with tanks and lighter combat vehicles. Behind the yard was a squat, pyramid-shaped building capped with a statue of a man in heavy armor bearing a sword. The structure was substantially shorter than the surrounding buildings, giving it an understated profile and also shielding it from all directions to protect it from bombardment with the city’s residential hives.

The base was also swarming with soldiers, and a squad of them headed by a pair of officers marched up to the Taurox. Chrysalis quickly noted their rank indicators and moved to meet them. Once she got close enough, the augmetic display in her eye picked up the Captain’s ident-code and displayed his name.

“Captain Seren, Ghessheim finds itself thrust into the crucible of war yet again!” she howled as soon as the man was within earshot. “By the Emperor’s mercy did I escape the claws of the heretics, and by the Emperor’s will shall I see to it they advance no further!”

The Captain hesitated, and then turned to the uniformed man beside him. They whispered to each other briefly, casting glances at the Director.

“I can see the doubt within your eyes, brothers!” Chrysalis bellowed, marching right up to the officers. “You’ve stared into the eyes of darkness! You’ve seen the fury of the wretched heretics! Apostates tread on sacred ground!” She clapped a hand against the Captain’s shoulder, looming over him. “But the Emperor IS with us! He delivered me from the accursed traitors, and now, by His grace, we will cut out this canker!”

The Captain tried to interject, but the Director was already past him, stomping toward the headquarters while still pontificating loudly.

“In the Emperor’s name, Ghessheim stands! In the Emperor’s name, Ghessheim triumphs! In the Emperor’s name we shall send ten thousand heretics howling to the Warp from which they emerged!” Chrysalis raised an arm to the sky and swung it about, and a nearby block of infantry stiffened and saluted at her passing. “Ghessheim will taste the blood of the faithless, and we will know VICTORY!!”

“Well, he’s… taking this well, I suppose,” the Lieutenant mumbled, staring at the Director’s back.

“That man’s always been full of vigor, and I suppose one must look to their faith when they endure such a loss,” the Captain admitted. Then he touched a hand to the right side of his head, which hosted a heavy augmetic that replaced his right eye. “Additionally, his implanted ident-codes are scanning correctly. That is Director Primus Von Kerrig. The heretics would not be able to duplicate them or break the Director’s will so quickly.”

“Aye, Sir. We’ll see to it he’s debriefed after he speaks to the General.”

“Leave that to me, Lieutenant. Continue with the preparations. The Director may have some useful tactical information on the enemy, but we still have quite a battle ahead of us.”

The lesser officer saluted, and then turned around sharply. The Captain adjusted his hat and then took off at a brisk walk, trying to catch up to Director Issen.

Chrysalis stomped through the strategium, walking past huddled technicians and holoboards laying out maps of the surrounding area. A planetary hololith was mounted in the ceiling, displaying the fifth planet and the capital moon in extraordinary detail. The command fortress was buzzing with activity, conversation, and the hum of logic engines.

Beyond the mundane sights and sounds of the command crew, however, Chrysalis sensed something else: fear. To her more exotic senses, the unease of the various officers filled the strategium with its stink, only barely masked by the rote performance of their duties and the orders of their superiors. It wasn’t the sudden, excited panic of men in combat or the paralyzing horror of seeing something grotesque; rather, it was an oppressive, creeping fear that their efforts were futile and their futures were forfeit.

Chrysalis decided she kind of liked the taste.

“I am Director Primus Issen Von Kerrig!” she shouted suddenly, thrusting a fist into the air. “In the God-Emperor’s name, I demand to see the Lord General! The very fate of this sacred bastion depends on it!”

“Yes, Lord Director. This way.” The Captain strode up next to his guest and point to a hall. “General Tammael is very busy, as you’d expect, but if you’ve any intelligence on the foe he’ll want to hear it. We know too little of what happened up there in orbit.”

“The most base treachery, Captain!” Chrysalis sniffed. “But I cannot say more now. They have strange technologies and numerous spies! Righteousness and valor are little protection against such insidious methods!” She ground her teeth, a frustrated snarl escaping. “Cowards that they are, the heretics dare not descend upon the Emperor’s holy cities unaided!”

“I… see, Lord Director. It will certainly be of interest to General Tammael if we’ve been compromised.”

The Captain reached a doorway sitting under a carved Aquila, and then swiped a thumb through a device next to the door. It beeped and flashed red. After a few seconds, the door clicked open, and a gruff voice came from the other side.

“Come in, but be quick about it.”

General Tammael was a short, broad-shouldered man with a deep tan and half his face rebuilt out of wretched-looking augmetics. He sat behind a desk piled high with scrolls, and a map of the city flickered on a holoscreen behind him.

“Lord General Tammael! At long last! The Emperor has granted-“ Chrysalis began, only for a snarl to cut her off.

“Spare me your monologues, Issen,” the General snapped, leaning forward over his desk. “All your preachy howling didn’t save Eschel, did it? Tell me what you know and then get out of the way.”

Chrysalis blinked, slightly put out. She’d been planning on drawing the conversation out with her preaching to try to exhaust his sense of caution, but it seems this one wasn’t having any of it.

“Surely you already know the basics.” Chrysalis straightened and clasped her hands behind her back, her expression grim. “Iron Warriors. Treacherous Space Marines from the most vile corners of the galaxy warped into the system in a convoy of freighters. They launched a sneak attack on Eschel beyond our ability to repel. The station, our system patrol fleet, and the grand cruiser Blessed Redemption are all lost.”

“Why yes, I did know all of that,” Tammael grumbled. “So get to the interesting parts. How many of the accursed Astartes were there?”

“Perhaps one hundred. In the assault, at least,” Chrysalis said, tapping a crooked finger against her chin. “The renegades made up the spearhead, but the bulk of the forces contained light infantry. Hardened armsmen, black-robed Techpriests, and xenos pests.”

“Xenos?” the General perked immediately, the crease in his forehead deepening. “Of what sort?”

“The gray-skinned ones. The… Tau, I believe?” Chrysalis crossed her arms over her chest, pretending to be in deep thought. “Them and the ponies.”

The officers stared at the disguised changeling for several seconds.

“… Is ‘pony’ some kind of naval slang for a new sort of despicable alien?” Tammael asked.

“There may be more accurate words they go by I suppose, but no. They were ponies,” Chrysalis explained. “Colorful four-legged mammals with hooves and tails and such.”

“Miniature horses?” mumbled the Captain in disbelief. “What… What were they DOING with them? Riding them? On a space station?”

“No, they strapped lasguns to the beasts and set them loose with the men. Miserable animals,” Chrysalis grumbled, shaking her head.

The men just looked even more perplexed. Chrysalis wasn’t completely sure what the confusion was all about, actually. If these humans knew what ponies were, why would they be so shocked to hear that they attacked along with the Chaos soldiers? Perhaps the ponies’ reputation for benevolence and tolerance had preceded them?

“Yes, well, bizarre assailants or no, there are more important matters to attend to.” Chrysalis coughed into her fist. “The heretics will not be satisfied with the station. They are preparing for a ground invasion.”

“They haven’t moved into bombardment formation,” noted General Tammael, restraining his profound relief. “Astartes or no, that will make it exceptionally difficult to seize the capital.”

“They don’t intend to,” Chrysalis said grimly. “The fleet plans to strike at Ghessheim V, and leave the garrison at Ulaisse untouched. Our hive cities are far less hardened.”

“Perhaps. But this isn’t the first band of pirate wretches we’ve crushed,” Tammael growled. “If they try to make landing around Xenith, our mobile armored divisions will hit them before they can fortify, and our fighter support will tear apart their supply lines from orbit. The shallows don’t extend far enough to place them out of our reach!”

Chrysalis had to fight to keep the grin off her face. “A waste of planning, General. They won’t be targeting Xenith, either.” She pointed to the map on the back of the office. “The Chaos scum intend to launch an assault on Byrecia, on the eastern continent.”

“Byrecia? That hive is half the size of Xenith.” The Captain furrowed his brow. “The northern cape would make a decent enough beachhead, I suppose. Still not out of reach of their own mobile division, though.”

“No, but it won’t be enough,” Chrysalis said solemnly. “They’ll be overrun in short order and the heretic scum will have their beachhead. UNLESS we stop them first!”

The changeling stepped up to the desk and smacked her palms flat atop the table, glaring into Tammael’s eyes. “General! Send our armored divisions to Byrecia! If we depart immediately, the transports may arrive in time for a full-scale assault on the mustering invaders!” Unseen by the Captain, her eyes briefly glinted green.

The General’s vision swam, and he felt the words of the Director echo in his head, slowly pushing aside his own thoughts. His posture slackened, and he started to open his mouth to speak.

“How do you know this?” Captain Seren suddenly interrupted. “You escaped from the space station mid-assault. When did you have time to interrogate an enemy soldier?”

Chrysalis twitched her eye as the General seemed to blink himself awake, suddenly freed from her magical influence. “Yes, that’s an excellent point. If we deploy our divisions in aid of Byrecia, then Xenith is all but undefended! Exactly how reliable is this intelligence, Director?”

Chrysalis repressed a sigh and drew a hand into her coat jacket, withdrawing a small bit of broken machinery. “This.” She dropped it on the General’s desk. “A vox receiver, torn from the helmets of one of their squad Sergeants, or whatever profane ranking order they use for their leaders. We were able to receive a link for much of our trip in the savior pod.”

“Ah, clever. The traitors do have a reputation for middling security,” the Captain mused.

General Tammael didn’t look so sure. “That’s it? You heard them announce their battle plans on the local vox network? It’s something, but I’ll not hinge such an important strategic shift on that alone!” He picked up the bit of shattered plasteel and glared at it briefly before flicking it away. “The treasonous foe ALSO has a reputation for canny misdirection, and this fleet has already dealt a grave blow with its deceptions. I will not chance that things are as they seem.”

Chrysalis recoiled slightly, frustrated. Between her magical hypnosis and personal wit, she didn’t think there would be any chance of failure if she got this far. But if they wouldn’t listen…

“Very well, General. If you trust in the heroes of Byrecia, then I’ve no doubt the Emperor shall shine His favor upon us!” Chrysalis said firmly. “But there is one strategic factor I implore you to consider. Captain, if you would?” She gestured to the holoscreen at the back of the office.

Seren walked around the desk and stood in front of the holoscreen. Tammael half-turned his chair to look.

“Tell me, gentlemen: look at the SHAPE of Byrecia, and the shallows around it that will form the operational combat zones. What do you see?” she asked, her voice grim.

The officers peered closer, falling into contemplative silence.

A flash of green came from behind them, briefly casting a strange, emerald glow across the map.

The guards jerked to attention when a muted thumping noise came from beyond the door. They turned toward the entrance to the General’s office, concerned. No further noise came from within, or at least no noise that was audible with the door closed. The office was largely soundproofed to prevent eavesdropping on strategy meetings, so anything that could be heard from the hallway was unusual.

“Lord General?” called a soldier, finally deciding to knock on the door. “What was that sound? Is everything all right?”

For several seconds, silence greeted the guards. Each moment passed with a growing sense of unease, and with a grimace one of the guards reached for the entry keypad.

The door opened, and General Tammael glared out into the hallway from his office. “Yes? What is it?”

The guards quickly straightened. There was no one else visible from the hallway, and there was nothing obviously amiss in the office. “L-Lord General! Is everything okay? We heard a noise and-“

“The Director stubbed his toe and tripped,” Tammael grunted. “The Captain took him into the back to lie down. He’s a bit… excitable.”

“Yes, Lord. Should I fetch a medicae?”

“No,” Tammael said firmly. “What you need to do is tell our mobile armored divisions that they’re being re-deployed. Have the Commanders arrange our transport ships to carry every armored vehicle we have to the eastern continent. They’re to join with Byrecia’s armored company for an assault on the cape.”

“Uh… I… that…” the guard stammered awkwardly, less because he could see the strategic error of the decision and more because he wasn’t used to relaying orders between officers in the same command center.

“I’m sure the division leaders will have questions,” Tammael growled. “They can contact me through the vox for clarification if they find these orders too complicated. I’ll be taking no more visitors!” He waited for the guard to salute stiffly, and then shut the door again.

Chrysalis walked back behind the General’s desk and hopped into the chair with a tired sigh. “These missions are so stressful. I should find a young couple after the invasion. It’s been some time since I’ve had a good, honest meal.”

She lifted her legs and propped them up on the bodies of General Tammael and Captain Seren, their corpses crammed haphazardly into the space under the desk. Then Chrysalis dug a finger into the shin of her boot, fishing around for something.

She withdrew a small object shaped like a railroad spike; pointed sharply at one end, with several perforations and gleaming circuit wires around a core of black ebony. The bulbous head of the spike was about the size of a marble, with arcane etching scratched into it at such a tiny scale that it looked completely smooth to casual observation.

After observing it for a few seconds, a spark suddenly jumped from the tip of the spike and burst against the infiltrator’s chest. Chrysalis yelped and almost fell over, dropping the spike onto the surface of the General’s desk. Light bloomed from under the breast of her jacket, briefly flashing blood-red light against the walls. She hugged her chest in a panic, feeling her augmetic core start to speed up and get hotter.

After a few seconds, the heat and light receded. Chrysalis leaned away from the mysterious object, scowling. “They said this thing was ‘safer than the last version,’” she grumbled to herself. “Whatever that means. It sure doesn’t seem safe to me.”

A gentle buzzing noise came from the cogitator on the General’s desk. Chrysalis took another deep breath, coughed into a fist, and then tapped a flashing button. An image of a young officer appeared on the monitor screen, looking distressed.

“Lord General, f-forgive the interruption!” stuttered the man. The cogitator screed listed his name as Commander Tychin.

“You are forgiven, Commander. But you’d best have a good explanation for why you’re not busy managing your redeployment,” Chrysalis said tightly, propping up her cheek on a fist. “Every moment of delay is one less shot fired into the ranks of the traitor scum.”

“I… I just wanted to confirm the redeployment orders, Lord General. The enemy is at the eastern continent? Our augur readings haven’t detected any deployments from orbit yet.”

“They’re headed there, Commander. The intelligence has been deemed… reliable,” Chrysalis grunted. “I intend to have the full, unified might of Ghessheim’s armies there to meet them.”

“Understood, General. Our reserve divisions will be deployed around Xenith to-“

“I said the FULL, UNIFIED might of Ghessheim, did I not?” Chrysalis interrupted blithely. “Commander, I expect every armored vehicle you can get over the ocean to be in Byrecia before the enemy is. By air, by sea, it doesn’t matter. Make them SWIM if you have to. Is that understood?”

A tense silence followed, and then the man on the monitor screen saluted. “Very well, Lord General. I will update you when all units are en route.”

“Good. I don’t want to hear from you again until you’re on the other side of the ocean, Commander.” Chrysalis jabbed a button on the cogitator console, and the screen banished the vid feed.

“Finally. And now for this… thing.” She glared at the ebony object lying on the desk, and her eyes pulsed green.

The spike lifted into the air on a pillow of shimmering green power, and then pointed at the cogitator. The base of the cogitator had several open slots and input sockets, and Chrysalis floated the spike toward the one that she guessed would be the best fit. Then she gently – while looking away and shielding her head with her other arm – pushed the device fully into the inload socket.

After a few seconds, the cogitator screen flickered and started filling up with nonsense data-screed. Strange noises started coming out of the housing, alternating between an electric hum and loud whirring. Smoke started to leak from the port where the spike had been plugged in, and the device pulsed with eldritch light.

Chrysalis leaned back a little further away from the cogitator, grimacing. “Is… Is it working? How do I tell?”

A dull bark came from the vox, like a Maulerfiend trying to cough and clear its throat. Then a tortured, electronic voice came from the caster.

System propagation initiated.
Subverting local data wards… complete.
Analyzing noosphere linkage… complete.
Pathing corrupted nodes… complete.
Initializing mag-pulse. Estimated time to system discharge: 2.09.21

Chrysalis stared at the screen, barely comprehending. Then the cogitator monitor flickered again, briefly displaying a white wheel with eight spike-tipped spokes against a background of static.

Then the cogitator screen went dark, and a puff of smoke blasted from the input node.

Harvest of Steel
Biologis laboratorium sub-section B-12

“Are we done yet? I am SO BORED. At least let me make one of the incisions myself!”

“Tellish, it’sh your own fault you’re here. Nobody ashked you to join Equinought Shquadron for their asshault.”

“Nobody EVER asks me to join the pony missions! It’s not fair!”

“It’sh very fair. The poniesh don’t need your asshishtance, and there were more valuable targetsh for you on the shtation. If you’d only follow ordersh-“

“I did follow orders! Your orders said to grab the data and disable the ship! We did that! It was AWESOME!”

“Thoshe were the Equinoughtsh’ ordersh, not yoursh.”

“Yeah. I like their orders better, so I went with those. So what? Do you think they would have been able to pull off that mission without me?!”

“Yesh, probably. Not leasht becaushe you dishrupted the initial teleport shequence. They would have shtarted right next to the fuel cellsh if not for your interference.”

“Blah blah blah blah blah…”

“And shince you then sheparated from the resht of the shquadron, all thish wash necesshary to enshure you haven’t been infected by the Geneshtealersh, ash well ash to repair the damage from the rad-pulshe.”

“I TOLD you! The stealers never got me! I slaughtered them every time they tried! This is a huge waste of my time!”

“That’sh alsho what you’d shay if they did get you. Pipe down.”

Tellis was sitting on a pair of laboratory slabs, his legs and arms shackled. One slab supported his legs while another, narrower piece of metal supported his back at an angle to sit him up. His flight pack spread out to either side, where it was held in place by several servo arms and attached cables.

His helmet had been partially stripped apart, with plating pried or cut open so that the various probes and needles hanging above could reach the system interior. That interior was a disturbing mix of flesh and machine, with thick layers of muscle-like fibers threaded with circuitry and sensor nodes. The process to conduct the repairs had been lengthy and painstaking, as the armor had long ago fused to its owner.

Solon labored over a constantly shifting circle of holo-screens, directing data feeds and guiding the automated chirurgeon in its work. The entire time he also kept a screen open to feed data relevant to the fleet’s orbital situation. Sliver had primary control of the raid in Ghessheim and his operation had proceeded very well so far, but Solon still felt a responsibility to be informed about the progress while he was otherwise occupied.

“Did that data hive have anything cool on it?” Tellis asked suddenly.

Solon was surprised at the question, but eagerly replied anyway. “Why, yesh! It turnsh out the grand cruisher wash infeshted during a defenshive fleet action in Arghosht! They’re currently fending off a Tyranid incurshion.”

“So the ship full of Tyranids was fighting Tyranids. Surprise!” Tellis grumbled.

“It’sh much more than that. We have data on the progressh of the invashion, the efforts of the Imperium to push back the hive tendril, and the flow of shuppliesh and refugeesh. The planet ish too far along the processh of infeshtation and conshumption to be shaved, but the Imperial fleetsh have beaten back the tide well enough to evacuate much of the hive citiesh. There will be a great deal of material and pershonnel limping away from Arghosht, all but undefended.”

“Can we go to the infested planet instead? It sounds way more fun. Plus I wanna see if Fluttershy can command a ‘Nid army by glaring at them really hard,” Tellis said.

“That would not be a good ushe of our time, no.” Solon tapped a holo-screen, and then slid a finger across another. “The final shcansh have been completed. There ish no trace of Tyranid bio-material that we didn’t manage to wash off of you after arrival. The Geneshtealersh never got their clawsh into you after all.”

“Told ya,” Tellis grunted. “Can I go now?”

The chirurgeon reached down and sealed the open parts of his helmet. A data cord was unplugged, and then small servo arms pushed plates of singed metal back into place over the exposed circuitry. A series of micro-lasers started sealing the plating back together, flashing a web of pink beams around the Raptor Lord’s head.

“Jusht a moment and you’ll be ash good ash new.” Solon backed away from the autosurgery as the shackles unlocked and the servo clasps released the armor suit’s flight pack. “Go on. Shtand up. Enshure that all the shuit functionsh are working properly.”

Tellis pushed himself up onto the deck, and then twisted sharply left and right. “Feels fine, I guess.” His lightning claws extended, and a short blast of heat came from his flight pack. “All the important parts are on.” Ribbons of power danced between the lightning claws as he activated their disruption field, crackling sharply.

“Good. Now then…” Solon’s optics gleamed, transmitting a brief signum code. “What about now?”

The light of Tellis’s visor dimmed. His flight pack locked up. The lightning claws stopped glowing. The entire suit seemed to shudder as the micro-motors and fiber-bundles – as well as the more bizarre and profane mechanisms within the daemon armor – all fell completely silent.

“… Okay, now something’s wrong.” Tellis lifted up his arm, feeling the unusual tension in the joints. The suit wasn’t as restrictive as an ordinary suit of inactive plate would have been, as the frame was grafted directly to the Raptor’s powerful body by now, but the difference was obvious. “Whatever you did messed it up. It’s not working now.”

“Ha ha! Excellent!” Solon crowed. “The killshwitch worksh!”

Tellis awkwardly swung around to face the Warsmith. “What?”

“I’ve inshtalled a shyshtem killshwitch in your armor’sh primary nodesh. Your shuit will be non-functional sho long ash it ish active.” Another holoscreen appeared in front of Solon featuring an outline of the daemon armor, most of it colored red. “Perhapsh thish will convince you to prioritize your ord-“

The Warsmith was interrupted by a set of inactive – but still quite sharp – lightning claws spearing through the holoscreen, scattering it into a veil of refracted light right before the blades punched directly into Solon’s optics cluster.

???

“All rise! In the name of the Emperor does this session commence!”

Dozens of figures slowly stood up along the outer stands within a dimly lit arena. They all wore long cloaks and hoods, and most wore a variety of metal masks or had their faces thoroughly augmented. At the center of the arena was an elevated seat, and upon the seat sat a withered man wearing a skull-shaped mask. Long, winding cables ran from the mask and wound all the way up to the ceiling, and a cluster of emerald green lumens glittered from within the mask’s eye sockets.

“Bring the accused!” the man in the skull mask demanded.

Space Marines marched forth from the arena entrance, each bearing power blades and heavy shields. In between the ranks of armored superhumans was a single, purple-furred alicorn pony. Her head was down, and heavy mag-shackles were closed around her hooves, wings, and horn.

Twilight slowly walked into the center of the arena, and the Space Marines all formed a half-circle behind her and followed within easy striking distance. She briefly peeked to either side to look at the spectators, only to see the cold lights of dozens of expressionless lumens staring at her. Gazing into the face of the skull-masked human was the same, although he at least acknowledged her attention with a nod.

“I will serve as adjudicator in the Emperor’s name,” the man said. “You, xeno… do you have a name?”

“Twilight Sparkle,” the mare mumbled morosely.

“You are hereby accused of murder, theft, and all manner of violent assault common to the trade of piracy. You possess illegal weapons within Imperial territory, and have committed unspeakable heresy against the Emperor of Mankind by traveling with and aiding the forces of Chaos.”

“I plead not guilty,” Twilight said, her voice rising slightly.

The adjudicator tilted his head slightly to one side. “We don’t really do that here. The Inquisitors have submitted the evidence. All that’s left is the sentencing.”

“D-Don’t I get a-“ Twilight’s retort was interrupted by the skull-masked man banging a gavel against his desk.

“In the name of the Emperor do I declare you guilty as charged, Twilight Sparkle! You have taken the lives of the Emperor’s servants, however lowly they may be. Now, for your sentence…”

The adjudicator paused to look over some notes, and Twilight winced and looked around at the Space Marines surrounding her. Even with the ability to teleport she doubted she’d be able to get away before the guards could dismember her, but the device around her horn prevented any spellcasting anyway. There was no escape. This was it. The final accounting for her short, brutal career of space piracy.

The adjudicator banged the gavel again. “I hereby sentence you – in the Emperor’s name – to six months imprisonment and one hundred hours of community service!” he pronounced, his voice rising to fill the arena. “Minus time served, of course.”

Twilight gaped, blinking in surprise. “That… That seems… bizarrely lenient? Not that I’m complaining! But, uh… it’s not what I was expecting when I couldn’t even get a fair trial.”

“Well the penal colonies aren’t exactly luxury resorts, but yes. As this was your first offense, it seemed appropriate.”

Twilight immediately broke into a nervous sweat. “Y-Yes! My first offense! Definitely! I never hurt any Imperial humans before or after this particular incidence!” She wasn’t completely sure which instance she was being sentenced for given that no one had presented any specific details, but she was glad that the court seemed just as disinterested.

“Court is adjourned. Take her away.” The adjudicator banged his gavel once more.

Then the floor opened up beneath Twilight, and she fell screaming into a pit of absolute darkness.

The shackles came apart in midair, or otherwise vanished on their own; when Twilight began flailing in a panic the weight of the thick metal cuffs and their attached chains were gone. About ten seconds into the drop she remembered that she could fly, and Twilight started flapping her wings hard to stabilize herself.

Eventually the falling sensation ceased, but Twilight was still completely surrounded by darkness. She considered lowering herself down, but considering how long she had been falling the young Princess didn’t think it was a good idea. This seemed like some kind of death trap, and traditionally there was nothing good to be found at the bottom of death traps.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” Twilight asked, her horn lighting up. “Is this part of the prison sentence or the community service sentence? I guess I should have asked before exactly how this works but the skull man seemed like he was kind of in a rush?”

The light of her horn did nothing except illuminate her own body. There was nothing else around to be illuminated. Empty void stretched in every direction. The mare whimpered sadly.

Energy signature detected.

Twilight nearly gasped with surprise and relief when her augmetic marked something ahead of her in the gloom. Without thinking further about it she flew forward, racing to find whatever it was. She flew and flew… for how long? Minutes? Hours? She wasn’t sure. Time seemed to fall away into an indistinguishable blur. But eventually she found it.

“It” was an object floating in the void. It was hard to say much more about it than that; the glow of her horn didn’t illuminate the thing so much as the magical light bent around it in ways that made it hard to see anything but the outer contours. It was vaguely box-shaped, and almost as big as an adult pony.

“What… What is it?” Twilight whispered, reaching out a hoof toward the object.

Scanning…
Warning! Scan failure. Error code 94113-C.
Energy signature unknown.
Radiation scan inconclusive.
Carbon scan inconclusive.
Psionic resonance scan…
……
………
…………

Twilight quickly grew impatient with her augmetic as it failed to return a result. “Well it’s the only thing here, and a radiation and bio-contamination scan being inconclusive is LIKE returning a negative result,” she reasoned.

With a thought, the Princess banished the readout from her augmetic eye and stretched out a hoof toward the object.

The moment she touched its surface, reality around her rippled like the surface of a disturbed pond. Twilight beheld a massive cavern – artificially constructed, if the large pipes and crumbling masonry was any indication – with dozens of humans inside huddled on the floor. Directly in front of her, with hands on the mystery object, was a man in a black hood and robe, weeping openly.

“Please, help us! The gods of the Warp, or anyone else who can! They’re killing us! We don’t have any more time!”

Twilight was stunned. “Who… Who are you?”

The figure jolted to attention, looking around for the source of the voice. His figure was indistinct, and hidden by inexplicable shadows. Still, Twilight hovered over the mysterious object and listened intently, one hoof extended to lay on its side.

“What? Is somebody there? Help!”

“I’m here. How can I help?” Twilight asked. “Who are you? Where is this place?”

“We are forsaken! Cast out from the Imperium and hunted like animals! Can you help us?” the man begged. “It worked… praise the gods, it actually worked!”

“Yes! I’ll help!” Twilight said firmly. “This will be a good start to the community service part of my sentence!” She looked around at the cavern again. “I still don’t know where I am, though.”

The hooded man continued speaking, but the sound of his voice suddenly got weaker and became unintelligible, as if it were stolen by the wind. Before she could speak again her surroundings suddenly blurred away into a rush of light and color.

After a second it stabilized. Twilight was hovering over a massive pit riddled with pipes and shattered rockcrete. Vegetation was sprouting all over the area, giving it the distinct look of ancient ruins that had been reclaimed by nature. Twilight continued hovering, speechless.

After a few more seconds of observation the scenery moved again, and Twilight felt like the ground simply dropped out underneath her, falling further and further away until the ruins were lost in a patchwork of green and blue. Much of the terrain was further obscured beneath a layer of clouds after that. Soon enough the movement of the ground below slowed, but by that point it was no longer observable as a particular ruin or even a recognizable jungle. Twilight beheld the entire world as one would from high orbit; a pearl of green, blue, and white sitting in a expanse of star-riddled void.

What’s more, Twilight recognized this particular world. She wasn’t used to identifying planets at a glance – she certainly wouldn’t be able to identify her home world if it was shown to her – but this one had the benefit of being shown to her very recently, and had also tugged briefly at her academic curiosity.

“Ulaisse. The capital moon,” Twilight mumbled to herself.

The object under her hoof pulsed, and more text appeared in her augmetic.

Save them. Save me. Time is short.

The light of the stars vanished, and darkness consumed Twilight’s vision.

Harvest of Steel
Deck C-13 – Twilight Sparkle’s quarters

Twilight awoke with a gasp, lurching upward to stand on her bed. Her eyes were wide and her wings were spread, as if she were preparing to take off. She would have activated the spell to summon her power armor too, but the sudden transition to consciousness and burst of activity left her slightly dizzy.

Spike blinked. He was standing just inside the doorway, holding a small arc welder. “Ah, did I wake you up? Sorry.” He waddled over to his bunk and then put the torch down. “I found those ponies in the lunch room and did what I could with their furnace. It still burns way too hot, but I think I managed to stop the problem where the heat suddenly surges.”

Twilight whipped her head back and forth, scrutinizing her surroundings. She was in her quarters back on the Harvest of Steel. An empty ration tin lay on the floor, while a dataslate slick with drool was laying on the end of her bunk where her pillow usually was. The dataslate display had an image of a Tyranid Lictor on one side, with most of the screen taken up by explanatory text and smaller diagrams.

“I’m not in jail!” the Princess said brightly.

“More interesting dreams?” Spike mumbled.

Twilight nodded sharply. “Yeah… really interesting. Almost… Almost like it wasn’t really a dream…” While her experience with the illusory Imperial court was fuzzy and rapidly slipping from her memory, the interior of the strange cavern seemed perfectly clear when she recalled it.

“… I need to talk to someone about this. I think I may have received a rescue mission.” Twilight admitted, rubbing a hoof against her chin.

“What? In your dreams?”

“Communications in dreams aren’t really new to us, although this felt very different from Luna’s dreamwalking. I think someone needs help!”

“That makes sense. I think a lot of people in the system need help right now. Mostly because we’re shooting at them and taking their stuff,” Spike pointed out.

“Okay, yes, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t come from THEM,” Twilight retorted. “I’m going to go speak to Solon about this. He probably has more information.” She hopped down from her bed and trotted out the door.

“Okay, I’ll, uh… clean up here, I guess,” Spike mumbled as the door slid shut behind him.

Twilight summoned her armor while in transit, activating the visor and using it to lock on to Solon’s position. Luckily he was still on board; she didn’t know if the Warsmith had any plans to join the raiding force assaulting the hive city, but at present he was in the primary biologis laboratorium. There was a facility lockdown but it had no quarantine alert, meaning the interior shouldn’t be dangerous.

After a moment spent studying the floor map, she recognized the particular lab facility. It was the same one she and the rest of the boarding team had been ushered into after they had escaped the Blessed Redemption. They had spent over four hours inside, being repeatedly scanned and jabbed with needle probes.

Twilight didn’t particularly think it odd that Solon was still in the lab. If something caught his attention then he’d probably spend the rest of the system invasion studying it. She relaxed her pace and walked up to the entrance.

A crash came from within, followed by several slamming noises.

Twilight flinched and stopped just outside the door. Another crashing noise came from the other side, followed by the sound of something hard cracking.

“What in Celestia’s name…” Twilight amplified the sonic reception in her helmet’s autosenses, trying to decipher what was happening before she potentially exposed herself to it. The violent noises didn’t become any clearer, but with the sound up she could make out the movement of ceramite and metal against each other. Whatever was going on, it involved someone in power armor.

The young Princess set her jaw, and then charged up a teleport spell.

Harvest of Steel
Biologis laboratorium sub-section B-12

Twilight materialized in a swirl of purple magic, her legs and wings spread for maximum readiness. She did not have her weapon drawn; experience had taught her that Astartes disliked aliens teleporting into locked areas with weapons drawn, and she always endeavored not to upset her good friends the Chaos Space Marines. Her plan was to enter, survey, and if necessary evade and escape.

The second step of her plan was foiled when a giant, bleeding maggot slapped against her helmet visor.

“YEEEEEEEK!!” she recoiled in shock, flinging her head from side to side to shake off the creature. It was nearly the size of an eggplant, and it oozed a filthy yellow slime from a deep gash. Eventually Twilight flung the maggot to the ground, and then she at last got an unobstructed (give or take a few streaks of slime) view of the laboratorium.

The first thing she noticed, if only because he was the largest and scariest thing in the room, was Tellis. The Chaos Lord lifted a boot and then stomped on the deck, generating a sharp clanging noise as a wash of ichor splashed under his greaves. Then he swiped a hand through the air, grabbing a wasp out of the air and crushing it in his fist. Tellis was moving more awkwardly than usual and was noticeably slower, but he was still fast enough to kill the insects crawling and buzzing around him.

That brought her attention to the second thing she noticed: the entire laboratorium was overrun with insects. Roaches and beetles scuttled about the floor, dashing around squirming maggots and writhing centipedes. Large black flies and spine-riddled wasps flew through the air or rested on the walls and desks. At first Twilight thought the bugs might have been swarming to attack Tellis, but after a few seconds of watching the scene she was sure it was the opposite; the insects were confused and directionless, and Tellis was methodically crushing and smashing them.

Finally, and most alarmingly, Warsmith Solon was lying in a collapsed heap on the side of the laboratorium. His chassis had been smashed into a wall such that his torso hung limply to one side, many of his mechatendrils had been ripped out, and the Warsmith’s head was missing. Insects of various types and sizes scrambled in, out, and around the heap of wasted metal, obviously unsure as to where they would be safest.

Twilight stared at the cluster of ripped wires and wandering antennae sticking out of Solon’s neck, and then she felt a surge of heat run through her horn. It wasn’t the painful, ominous burn of Warp corruption this time. This time her horn burned with righteous anger, and the force harmonizer quivered in psychic sympathy.

“WHAT THE HAY IS GOING ON IN HERE?!” Twilight screamed.

Tellis was just winding up to slam a fist onto the wall to paste another wasp. At Twilight’s shout he hesitated, and the bug took off in a panic. The Chaos Lord stared at Twilight, and then glanced down at the spots of slime and ichor that were scattered over his armor.

“… Is this a trick question, or what?” Tellis asked. “What’s it look like?”

An aura of magical fire surged around the Princess, surrounding her in shining flame. “Why did you take Solon’s head off?!”

“The jackass turned off my armor!” Tellis raged, stomping his boot on the floor and reducing a stray centipede to paste. “Turn it back on!”

The aura around Twilight dimmed slightly. “Wh-What? Turn it on? Me? But-“

“You’re a nerd! Figure it out!” the Chaos Lord demanded, pointing at the armored pony.

Twilight hesitated, but after a moment of staring at the Khornate warrior her augmetic eye bracketed his power armor. A diagram layout flashed red, and then data-screed started lining her vision around Tellis.

System code ‘Nosferuus Circuit’ scanned.
Power core off-line.
System check: nominal.
Datalink identified: system killswitch is engaged.
Disengage? y/n

“… If I turn your armor back on, are you just going to use it to stab Solon some more?” Twilight asked suspiciously.

“You should be a lot less worried about what happens to him and more worried about what happens to YOU, dork,” Tellis snarled.

“Don’t think you can bully me like the others!” the Princess snapped back. “I’m not afraid of you!”

The Raptor Lord stomped up to her, his armor clanking loudly with every step. It was obvious in the way the joints scraped and bounced that the suit was inactive, but the weight of the armor didn’t seem remotely as bothersome to Tellis as it did to a pony in the same situation.

“If you’re not afraid, I can fix that.” Without active helmet systems he lacked the ghastly glare and booming voice he usually possessed, but Twilight still felt a tremor of absolute terror run down her spine while staring up at the clawed goliath. “How about I tear a wing off? Or cut out that fancy new eye of yours? Gimme one good reason not to.”

“Because… if you hurt me… Rainbow Dash will be sad,” Twilight said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

For several long seconds, Tellis and Twilight stared at each other. The insects scurrying and buzzing around seemed to slow down, sensing a lull in the tension. Tellis straightened, crossed his arms over his chest, and then groaned.

“Aw, crap. She would be, wouldn’t she? I can’t do that to her.” Tellis sighed, slumping forward and letting his arms hang loose. “Fine, you win. Turn my armor back on and I won’t stab you or the Boss Nerd.”

Twilight was fairly stunned that he had backed down so easily, but immediately seized on the admission. “Really? You promise?”

“Yeah. Just do the thing, okay? I hate how my wings just keep dragging on the floor.”

“… Do you Pinkie Promise?”

“Don’t push it,” Tellis snapped, causing the mare to wince. “I’m not taking any oaths related to the psycho pony. We still don’t know how she got all those Dreadnought shells.”

“All right! All right, fine! I’ll help you.” She focused again on his torso plate, which started the previous access sequence again in her optical screen. “I just KNOW I’m going to regret this, but hopefully less than I would regret refusing and trying to put Solon back together with you bugging me.”

“Slightly, yeah,” Tellis agreed.

Twilight’s augmetic pulsed, shining even beneath the helmet optics. Tellis’s armor quivered, and he felt a reassuring tingle around the many places where the suit’s wiring had burrowed into his flesh. After a moment his wings lifted, their power finally restored. The power fields around his lightning claws came back on, suddenly shrouding the worn and slightly bent talons in crackling red energy. Finally his visor systems rebooted, fully restoring the only visual interface he’d known for centuries yet steadfastly refused to learn anything about.

“It worked! Now I just gotta beat up a Techpriest and make them remove the stupid engram codex,” Tellis promptly started striding toward the laboratorium entrance, and the various bugs standing or hovering in his way scrambled out of his path in a panic.

“Wait!” Twilight started looking back and forth anxiously, scanning the room. “Do you know why the insects emerged? What am I supposed to do here? And where is his head?”

“Don’t know, don’t care, and I think it landed behind the big bio-tank.” Tellis stabbed a pair of claws into the door’s mag-lock and then twisted his arm, relishing the sound of metal being carved and vaporized by his energized blades. “Later, dweebs!” He threw the door open and strolled into the hall with a surprisingly cheerful gait.

Twilight whimpered slightly as several unidentifiable arthropods clambered over her greaves, sweeping her armor with their antennae and chittering noisily. Granted she was in a sealed and pressurized suit of power armor so she wasn’t really worried about the creatures harming or even touching her, but Solon’s swarm insects tended to be the sort that were covered in slime, spines, and pulsating flesh sacs. Given the experience she’d had with various incarnations related to Nurgle, she felt she was completely justified being nervous.

“Okay. Focus, Sparkle. Step one: find the head. That’s what Gaela did the first time this happened.” She slowly moved toward the tank Tellis had indicated, staring straight forward. Her ears twitched within her helmet, keened for and dreading the sickening crunch of carapace under her hooves.

Miraculously the bugs seemed to give her an adequate berth, skittering ahead of her and swarming around the glass cylinder mounted in the floor. Twilight looked behind it, and then she gagged at the sight of a broken Astartes helmet teeming with frantic insects. Solon’s head was sitting upright on the deck with a very conspicuous hole in the primary optics cluster over the left eye. A centipede hung from the opening, its fangs wiggling menacingly.

“I have never been so happy to be able to move things without touching them as I am at this very moment,” Twilight mumbled, taking up the armor in her telekinesis. Nearly a dozen giant wasps circled her while the helmet lifted up, and strings of unidentifiable goop squirming with life oozed from the interior. Twilight considered tilting it on its side so that she could look into the bottom, but quickly discarded the idea; she wasn’t sure she could stomach closer study.

“Okay, so… now what?” she asked with a whimper. “I don’t know what Gaela did to help him. I should just go get her now that I’ve secured hi-“

One of the projectors around the optics cluster flickered on, and Twilight yelped when a holoscreen appeared in the air ahead of her with a close-up of Sliver’s helmet.

“Lord Warssmith, the attack…” Sliver trailed off immediately, staring at the bizarre sight that no doubt greeted him on his end of the vid feed. Then his gaze turned slightly to the pony levitating Solon’s severed head. “Ssparkle… may I asssume you have an explanation for thiss?”

“Tellis did it!” Twilight yelped. “I swear, he was like this when I found him!”

Sliver held his gaze for several long seconds, and Twilight felt her heartbeat start to pick up while she stared back.

“I believe you,” Sliver finally said. “Tell me, has the sswarm yet retreated within the armor?”

“Uh… I don’t…” Twilight cocked her head to one side, and then glanced back at the hulk of machinery at the side of the laboratorium. Many of the insects were crawling toward it and squirming inside it now, clambering over the inert legs and into the vents and gaps between the plating from whence they had presumably emerged. Meanwhile, several wasps and flies had landed on Solon’s helmet and were crawling inside the mess of wiring and sickening ooze.

“I think so, yes. Do you… know what’s going on with that, by any chance?” Twilight asked nervously, facing the holoscreen again.

“I have no explanation that would ssatissfy you, Ssparkle,” Sliver grumbled. “Now energize the helmet.”

The armored Princess didn’t understand at all, but she gently lowered Solon’s head onto the floor. Her horn casing started to glow, and the bugs crawling on the damaged armor sped up their panicked squirming to get inside. A small spark of purple lightning started lashing around her horn tip, and after a few seconds it leapt onto the helmet.

The holoscreen flickered, and a dusty snort came from the vox transmitter. “You can do better than that,” Sliver grunted.

“Well… I guess, but I don’t want to hurt him!” Twilight protested.

“He’ss been decapitated, Princesss. What further harm do you imagine you could inflict with a mere sspark?”

“I have no idea! This is so far outside of my understanding of medical science and biology! Even the magical types! What if I-“

A series of clicking noises suddenly came from the helmet, and the optics lumens lit up. Twilight gasped and stepped back, shielding herself in case of some kind of adverse reaction (or infectious discharge).

“Ugh… Gleah… Aaag…” said the decapitated helmet.

“You have joined uss again, Warssmith. Good.” Sliver promptly moved on with his message. “We’ve detected a ssignum pulsse within the target hive. It wass generated by a grid overload within the hive ssphere’ss power relayss. The Queen wass ssucesssful after all.”

Another undecipherable noise came from Solon’s head, and Sliver continued. “The hive’ss augurss should be compromissed by the viruss and itss defenderss redeploying away from the target. I am launching the asssault.”

A burbling sigh came from the helmet. “Urgh… good. Do… Do that,” Solon sputtered weakly.

“Iron within. Iron without.” Sliver cut the link, and the holoscreen winked out of sight.

“Uh… so…” Twilight shifted uncomfortably while standing behind Solon’s decapitated head. “Do I just… put you back on top of your neck? Do I need to screw anything in, or…?”

“Shparkle? Oh, you’re here. Good. My immediate awarenesh ish… fractured, shomewhat. Pleashe return me to my body.”

Once again the helmet was lifted by a bubble of violet magic, but this time Twilight carried it along toward the hulk of shredded metal on the side of room. She wordlessly levitated it higher until it was hovering just over the cracked metal pipe and mess of wiring that jutted from his gorget. She started to tilt the helmet so that it would fit back into place, but she hesitated and looked around.

The laboratorium was empty. All the insects were gone. Aside from the bits of ichor and smashed carapace from the ones that Tellis had squashed, it was as if they’d never existed.

Twilight looked back up at the Warsmith. “There’s probably a better time to ask this, but… what exactly is in your helmet right now?”

“You can look if you want, but you won’t like it,” Solon warned.

The Princess felt another surge of nausea welling up in her stomach, and she quickly put Solon’s head back into place. “There. Uh… is there another step? Are you… okay now?”

“No, I’m not.” The legs of Solon’s chassis twitched and groaned, and the machinery within started to slowly shift the Warsmith back into a standing position. His head sat awkwardly in his gorget while he moved, tilted slightly to one side and unable to turn. “Nonethelesh: thank you, little one. It sheems I undereshtimated the Mad Angel yet again.”

Twilight shifted uncomfortably, looking back at some of the smears that once used to be revolting, infectious insects. Then she looked back up at Solon. “So, you installed a killswitch and turned off his armor? And he STILL beat you?”

“Did you want shomething?” Solon grumbled. “If you jusht came to help me, thank you, but you can go now. I have a lot of welding to do.”

“Oh! Right! Yes!” The young Princess trotted up in front of the hulking Iron Warrior, craning her neck to look into his visor. “I had a dream that I believe may have been a psychic transmission!”

“Oh? How intereshting!” Solon said. He moved to adjust his helmet with his arm to stand it up straight, and the shift caused a wet squelching noise. “It ish common for Imperial shettlementsh to communicate ushing ashtropathsh, who shend messhagesh through the Warp rather than ushing mundane meansh limited to the paltry shpeed of light. Quite shtrange that you may have intercepted one, but pshionicsh can be like that.”

“I… don’t think that’s what this was,” Twilight said cautiously. “It wasn’t directed to anyone in particular, and it seemed to be transmitted in this system and to this system. It was like… a distress beacon!”

“Huh. Well, we are caushing a great deal of dishtressh, I’m sure,” Solon admitted. “Odd that they’d be cashting out for aid in-shyshtem, though. If there were any Imperial asshetsh capable of shtopping ush, they probably would have done sho.”

“That’s just it. I don’t think this message came from the Imperials. In fact… I think it’s someone pleading to help escape them!”

Solon halted, and his torso swiveled about. His head was still held in place with one arm, which gave his motions a very awkward, surreal quality. “Really? Well, that’sh even more intereshting. Where exactly did thish plea come from? Could you tell?”

Twilight nodded eagerly. “Yes… it came from the capital moon. Ulaisse.”

“… Oh dear. That’sh quite a problem.”

All battle groups, proceed to your transports and prepare for atmospheric deployment!

Jerriha grimaced up at the vox caster while the other Fire Warriors trudged into the back of a Valkyrie gunship. With a deep sigh she slung a belt of grenades over her shoulder and followed them. “Another day, another war zone. The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

Spearhead battalions will make planetfall on the edge of the enemy’s effective interception range. There will be no muster. Advance to your assigned target zones, slay all that stand in your way, and let the False Emperor’s slaves tremble before our might!

“Well it’s about bloomin’ time,” Kiss sighed. Servo arms swiveled down from the top of the passenger bay, latching onto the armor of her and her squad. “We were lollygagging for so long I was starting to wonder if they’d decided to skip the planet raid.”

“Yo, pilot! Make sure you land us at the front!” barked Steely Lathe. “They don’t want me flying around too much until the anti-air guns are down, so I don’t wanna have to walk there!” Steely hopped up onto one of the pony pens that were stacked atop one another on the side of the transport, wriggling into the claustrophobic metal cage with a grunt of annoyance.

“Oh my, what an adventure we have ahead of us!” Shifty giggled while the access ramp closed behind her. “So many paths! So many wonders! So many terrible endings!”

She trotted up to another cell of the pens and ducked inside, oblivious or indifferent to the glares of Phage Squadron on the opposite side of the transport bay. The entrance sealed itself, and the rumble of the gunship engine soon filled the vehicle.

Once again, the Harvest of Steel will fill its belly with the labors of fools and cowards! Once again, our blades will cull the unworthy who would challenge us! Once again, the Imperium will gaze upon its fallen bastions and shattered armies! Once again, the Dark Gods will make their bloody mark upon the weak!

Wyatt Daniels hefted his rail rifle and mumbled a prayer under his breath while his squad marched into the transport. Men entered first, sitting on the benches before launch harnesses dropped down to clamp over their shoulders. Ponies entered next, their more compact frames fitting into the grid of stacked pens secured over the other side.

Hi everyone! Pinkie Pie here! The cheerful, sing-song voice coming from the vox immediately snapped the mercenaries out of their gloomy pre-combat preparations, and they looked up at the vox caster in shock and wonder.

We won’t be heading onto the planet with the rest of you this time, but I want you all to know that we’re rooting for you! Get out there and do your best, okay? We’re gonna have SUCH a big party when you get back, just you wait! Also we seem to be running kind of low on sugar, so if you guys wanna loot a bakery or something while you’re down there that’d be swell. Thanks! Love ya!

A sudden banging noise and the sound of muted shouting came from the vox. Daniels smiled, and then chuckled to himself.

A gruff coughing noise came from the vox as the Valkyrie’s engines started up. Yes, well. As I was saying: Death to the False Emperor! Glory to the Dark Gods! IRON WITHIN! IRON WITHOUT!

“Iron within!” shouted the ponies far too cheerfully, shaking the cages with their exuberance. “Iron without!”

The transport launched, rocketing into the cold, listless void. Below the gunship, and a swarm of numerous others, the ocean hive world of Ghessheim V sparkled like a gem against the light of the system’s star.

Author's Note

Steely Lathe is from Steely Hearts, a spin-off fic by nothing_to_see_here.

I know writing has been even slower than usual, and I apologize. Ironically, the pandemic hasn't given me more writing time, and I often have even more stuff to read during my commute when I usually write pony.
Oh well! Stay safe and remember BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD :flutterrage:

Search & Rescue

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 5
Search & Rescue

Harvest of Steel
Deck E-661 – Strategium Tertius

“What a fascinating tale, Princess. A desperate cry for help, riding upon the tides of the Warp into the land of dreams! A mysterious object, untouched by your light, showing the path to a far-away land bereft of hope! It’s the stuff of heroic legends! How… quaint.”

A hollow laugh came from the suit of power armor standing on the other side of the hololith table. Serith had his arms crossed over his chest as the image of Ghessheim’s orbits hovered above him. The fifth planet stood out the most, of course, and was currently blooming with small red circles on a particular continent. The space station Eschel hovered nearby and next to that was the fleet, holding formation around the flagship.

Further out, far beyond the orbit of the station, was the moon Ulaisse. A lush planetoid evidently not subjected to the harshest methods of Mechanicus resource extraction, much of the sphere was a rich green with patches of blue seas, all partially obscured under a fluffy white cloud cover. A small bud of gray marked the capital city; large enough to be seen from space, as was typical of human construction, but clearly smaller than each of the hives drilled into each continent on Ghessheim V.

On the other side of the table was Twilight Sparkle. She had doffed her helmet for this conversation, certain that she’d be making some snarling expressions that she didn’t want hidden beneath the unblinking glare of her visor. Solon joined them via holoscreen, and the background of his visage was full of servo welders, drills, and other tools working furiously around his gorget.

“I’m sure rescue missions aren’t usually a Chaos priority,” Twilight drawled. “I get it. We’re pirates. But since the invasion seems to be proceeding without a hitch, I thought maybe we could spare a team to explore the source of the signal.”

“Surely you’re aware of the strategic disposition of the moon?” Serith drawled. “The mightiest weapons in all the system protect the Governor’s palace. The facility could cripple fleets greater than ours with its defenses and its armies are the equal of the planet’s hive regiments put together. Perhaps greater.”

“Much greater,” Solon interjected. “The capital hash Titan shupport. Our forcesh will not engage the capital defendersh. But that’sh not what she’sh ashking, Sherith.”

“An infiltration, then? How bold you’ve become, my dear Princess,” Serith said with a chuckle.

“Do you think it’s possible?” Twilight asked.

“I do not,” Serith waved a hand dismissively. “We don’t have the time or manpower to explore the moon right under the enemy aegis searching for these individuals and some mysterious box. Besides…” Here the Sorcerer hesitated, looking up at the hololith of the moon. “… this is probably a trap.”

“You think the Imperialsh WANT ush to attack the capital?” Solon asked.

“No. It would be utterly uncharacteristic of them to provoke invasion using psychic trickery, even if they possess overwhelming superiority and could benefit from the move,” Serith admitted. “If this is a trap, it was laid by more sinister hands.”

“Who would have set it up if not the Imperium?” Twilight asked, looking skeptical.

“Perhaps rivals. Perhaps aliens. Perhaps they’re simple hive gangers or rogue mutants. Or perhaps I’m simply being paranoid,” Serith admitted. “But it is deeply suspicious that Princess Sparkle alone received this vision.”

“Well it couldn’t have gotten to you; you don’t shleep,” Solon pointed out.

Serith gave the holoscreen a stare that Twilight interpreted as “exasperated contempt” despite the unmoving features of his helmet. “In any case, we have no shortage of hapless mortals at the moment. If we are to begin entertaining acts of mercy, then we should surely begin with those fleeing our raider armies. If nothing else, it’s far more convenient.”

“What about the artifact, though?” Trixie asked, standing her front hooves on the hololith projector. “Might the thing that Sparkle touched in the dream be worth looking into?”

“It might. But probably not. The unseen object in her vision could be a physical construct of some sort, or a nexus lying in the Warp, or nothing at all, or anything in-between.” A dusty snort came from his helmet. “Such is the folly of planning missions around strange dreams.”

“Trixie still thinks it’s very interesting. There’s got to be something down there besides desperate refugees!”

Twilight waited patiently for the magician to finish, and then her ears flattened against her head. “Hey, so… Why is Trixie here, anyway?”

“Personal interest!” Trixie chirped. “Trixie’s never been to an alien world before, and this sounds like it will be a perfect opportunity!”

“… Isn’t there an invasion of an alien world happening right now, as we speak?” the alicorn asked.

“Yesh, there ish. In fact, you’re shupposhed to be aboard lander Delta-419 for the shecond wave of the asshault, Missh Trixie,” Solon pointed out.

“Yes, Trixie knows. Trixie is sure the Equiis Sergeant in charge of that assault group can confirm that Trixie boarded the lander, too! Although he probably wonders where Trixie went after that!”

Trixie and Serith laughed, and then Trixie reared up. Serith raised a palm and she kicked a boot against it, and the sound of clashing ceramite rang in Twilight’s ears. Then Trixie dropped back down.

“Anyway, we should instead go to this other planet where there’s a lot more soldiers but Trixie WON’T be expected to fight them. Much more Trixie’s style.”

“I hardly think some mysterious artifact or helpless refugee is worth the risk, but even if we were certain of the rewards we do not know the source,” Serith pointed out. “Without precise coordinates for landing this is a futile errand.”

Twilight jumped into the air, her flight pack humming as it engaged its anti-gravity projectors. She tapped a boot onto the projection of Ulaisse and pushed, and then the rest of the hololith was swept away as the moon expanded to fill the center of the room. Twilight touched the hololith again and flung her leg to the side, and Ulaisse began to spin. Twilight tapped the moon once more while it was in motion, and the hololith froze in place.

“There. Magnify.” The globe expanded beyond the projector’s boundary, leaving a curved patch of forestland standing upright before them. “Keep going. As close as you can get.” The projection zoomed even further, and the landscape image started to lose its definition as the map grew flatter and more detailed.

“There. That’s the source.” Twilight backed away as a targeting cross appeared where she had last touched. A set of global coordinates appeared, tagging the location. The area appeared to be a deep depression carved straight down into the ground. It was stained with the brown-gray of dusty rockcrete and weathered rebar, and fairly overgrown. But with the site magnified it clearly stood out from the surrounding trees.

“What… is that, exactly?” Trixie asked, moving over to Twilight’s side of the hololith and squinting. “It’s like some sort of giant pit in the middle of the forest.”

“A ruin, looksh like,” Solon opined.

“Specifically, it’s an abandoned construction site,” Twilight corrected, smirking to herself. “According to the historical data of Ulaisse – which I’ve already skimmed, naturally – it was due to have several hives built on it before the system was attacked by an Ork raiding fleet and they withdrew construction crews. After the threat passed and a new governor was appointed – the last one apparently coming to decorate a Warboss’s trophy pole – Ulaisse was designated as the system capital and all sites outside of the central city were abandoned to the wilderness while they built up the palace defenses and surrounding habitation centers.”

“The foundationsh of hive citiesh can deshend for kilometersh beneath the shurface,” Solon pointed out. “Twishted mazesh of shewersh, coolant piping, water filtration plantsh, and the odd thermal bore makesh underhivesh veritable citiesh by their own meritsh. It’sh an excellent hiding place for a rogue colony.”

“Or whatever it is we’ll find there,” Serith drawled. “I am still skeptical of the worth of this endeavor.”

“If we know exactly where it is, then we should be able to sneak in and out undetected!” Twilight pressed.

“The moon hash anti-ship batteriesh that we musht avoid, but a dropship can make landing ash long ash it avoidsh the interceptor patrolsh. My Thunderhawk’sh cloaking device will get you to the shurface in one piece and extract you,” Solon said. “But I want Sherith to guide you. If there ish shome artifact or other pshykant device there, he can identify and collect it.”

“A waste of my time.” Serith waved away Twilight with his free hand. “I am certain that the Princess can manage this task unaided. I will stay on the flagship.”

“Trixie wants to go to the moon!” the blue unicorn said brightly.

“Oh, very well. I’ll accompany you,” Serith said, reversing himself immediately.

Twilight glanced between Trixie and Serith, her mouth agape. “Wh-What? Just like that? But-“

“When will we be departing? My understanding was that Equinought Squadron required rest after the last operation,” Serith spoke to Solon, ignoring Twilight’s stuttering.

“We’ll launch in twenty shtandard hoursh,” Solon said. “That will alsho give ush time to shearch the datashtacksh for further data on potential defenshesh. The operation coordinatesh are far from the capital, but shuch a world may not be eashily infiltrated.”

“Should Trixie bring Suuna?” Trixie asked.

“Yes, that would be wise,” Serith said. “We may need someone more expendable than the equines to carry the artifact.”

“Serith, you know Trixie doesn’t like it when you bully her!” The unicorn turned away from the table and started trotting toward the exit. “Don’t make her do anything dangerous! Other than going with us to a mysterious ruin on an enemy planet with a vast army waiting to hunt us down.”

“My apologies, Miss Trixie,” Serith said, not sounding sorry in the least. He turned on his heel and followed her out, chuckling all the way.

Twilight said nothing until the strategium door closed behind them, and then she shuddered. “It’s never going to stop being weird and creepy that those two get along so well.”

“Agreed,” Solon mumbled. “I’ll have the Thunderhawk prepared and Desht given a landing refresher. Would you like another shquad to go with you? We can shpare shome reshervesh and the gunship hash conshiderable transhport capacity. I’m afraid Techpriesht Gaela will not be available thish time, however. Her armor requiresh extenshive repairsh.”

“It’s tempting, but I think we’ll need the space,” Twilight replied. “I expect to be taking back the survivors with us. In fact, it’s possible just one transport won’t be enough. We won’t know until we get there, though.”

“It’sh posshible to shend an extraction fleet and get them out quickly, but they won’t be able to deploy with the initial landing. But you alsho won’t be able to communicate with ush on the planet’sh shurface without compromishing your poshition… Hmmm…”

“I think we just might… I have an idea!” Twilight chirped. “I’ll use Spike! I can alter the link to his teleport breath so that I can exchange messages with him like Princess Celestia does! I’ll test it out before we depart!”

“Huh. That would be eashier than shetting up a shignum booshter and hoping the Imperialsh don’t deploy a regiment to shilence it.” Solon turned his head to the side, and new data began racing across the bottom of the holoscreen. “I think that will be all, Shparkle. The deployment counter is shet.”

“Yes, Warsmith!” Twilight said brightly. “And… if I may say so, Lord… thank you for indulging me in this. I didn’t know if you would allow for anything as unusual as a rescue mission based on a psychic dream, especially when we’re pillaging the rest of the system.”

Solon chuckled, his laughter struggling to get through the obstruction of his vox grille. “Many shecretsh and treashuresh of this galaxy are yet hidden within the dark crevicesh of civilization. There ish no harm in conducting an expedition while our fleet drainsh thish world of itsh resourcesh.” He paused. “Well there may be harm to you, shince you could die. But you’ll probably be fine. This ISH a non-critical misshion, sho you should feel free to retreat if you encounter a sherioush threat.”

“Yes, Warsmith! Thank you! I’m going to go work on that magic fix with Spike and then I’ll brief my friends!” Twilight said brightly. “When we land, I…“

A bright red lumen flashed on the strategium table, and Twilight trailed off. Then another vox link connected, and another holoscreen blinked into view over the projector. Rather than another face however, the screen displayed what Twilight immediately identified as a visor interface looking down a city street. Data-screed scrolled across the bottom of the display, and she quickly picked out several indicator runes that identified the connection as belonging to Sliver.

“Warssmith, the firsst wave hass penetrated the hive perimeter. The outer rampartss have been cleared and the sspearhead is moving on the enemy strongpoints.” The vox feedback made Sliver’s characteristic slur worse than ever, and the sound of Predator attack tanks rumbling by threatened to drown out his voice entirely. “The centerss of ressisstance shall be crushed within ten hourss. By the time the Dark Mechanicuss iss finished with Esschel, we’ll have broken the hive militiass.”

“Good, good! It shoundsh like you have the asshault well in hand!” Solon said. “If you need another divershion, I shtill had sheveral packsh of Black Houndsh to releashe into the city center. I’ve alsho shpoken with Wraithshtar; he’sh ready to lead a shurgical shtrike.”

“Unnecesssary, Warssmith,” Sliver drawled. “Leave the paltry defenderss room to retreat into the underhive with ssome of Nurgle’ss preciouss giftss. That will contain the militia while the mortalss ssack the city.”

Solon seemed to hesitate. “It’sh unushual for you not to push the offenshive into a retreat before they can regroup. Ish there any particular reashon you’re holding back?”

The view screen, which had lumbered along the street at a steady pace up until then, suddenly stopped. Sliver was silent for a few seconds. “… I did-“

An alert rune flashed up near the top, and the view from the holoscreen spun about to look up at one of the towering hive spires. A grenade belt was plummeting toward him, its strap fluttering in the air and its safety pins presumably removed.

“I’ve gotcha! Watch your dome!” shouted a voice from out of view. The grenades were suddenly seized by a deep yellow glow, their descent slowing as if they’d fallen into thick oil. A second later they exploded, and Sliver’s gaze turned away as shards of hot shrapnel clawed against his armor.

His view screen centered on Poison Kiss, who was standing behind the Chaos Lord with the rest of Phage Squadron. A great hammer pointed toward the mares, and then lifted up to point off to the side.

“Find the grenadier. Fill that hab-cell with Nurgle’ss blesssingss and then catch up with uss,” Sliver demanded calmly.

“Yes, Lord!” Breezy Blight chirped, leaping into the air and taking flight. Rot Blossom shook herself like a dog, and several wasps and flies lifted off from her armor before following the pegasus.

The view in the screen swiveled back around, and then once again started the slow, lurching motion of a Terminator on the march. “As I wass ssaying… the ressisstance here iss opportunisstic. Dessperate. There hass been ample time and opportunity for a counter-attack, but we’ve found nothing but fragile checkpointss and entrenched consscriptss. After I collect your newesst pet, I expect thiss hive to be ready for harvessting.”

“Excellent! Keep up the advance, Shliver!” A servo arm shifted something behind Solon’s head, and it twisted sharply to the side. A second servo arm lowered itself and clamped onto his helmet, slowly forcing back the other way. “Once you’ve shecured the Queen, have her return to orbit for resht and redeployment.”

“Redeployment? Are we launching an attack on the 4th planet after all? Or another hive?” Sliver asked.

“Nothing like that, no. We’re shending a reshcue mission to the moon, that’sh all.”

The visor screen lurched to a stop as Sliver missed a step. “A resscue… to the…”

One of the nearby Predator battle tanks suddenly opened fire, and the roar of heavy bolters obscured Sliver’s mumbling. The tempo of gunfire rapidly increased, and alert runes started blinking on the visor display.

“It looksh like you’re very bushy. I’ll contact you later, Shliver. Iron within! Iron without!” Solon cut the link just as an Imperial tank started rolling into view, and the holoscreen blinked away.

“Uh… you’re sending… Chrysalis with us?” Twilight asked, cringing.

“Would that be a problem?”

“Probably, yeah,” Twilight grumbled. “Aside from the tension from having her along, she might escape with the artifact or start feeding on the refugees or something. I’d really rather not.”

“Very well. I’ll accept your deployment parametersh,” Solon agreed. “But I want her on shtandby, at leasht.” If you do need reinforcementsh on short notice we cannot deploy many unitsh to aid you. The Queen can be shent very quickly and ish a shubshtantial force multiplier on her own.”

Twilight spent a moment staring, and then shook her head as if to clear it. “I… I see. Yes, that’s fine. Thank you, Warsmith.”

“Ish shomething elshe wrong?” Solon asked, curious about her reaction.

“No, not at all! I was just… thinking back to all the other missions you’ve sent me on.” She flushed slightly and smiled. “It wasn’t always… obvious that you cared whether we came back or not.”

“I ushually didn’t,” Solon said bluntly. “But shuffice to shay you’ve proven your worth to ush. And in particular, to me.” The Warsmith chuckled. “Alsho, thish deployment doeshn’t sherve a clear shtrategic goal, sho it would be a terrible washte if you were to perish here.”

“Well, erm… thank you! Kind of. I certainly hope we don’t need to call in Chrysalis, though. Aside from the potential destruction she might cause, she’d never let us live it down.” Twilight straightened. “If that will be all, I’m going to go make preparations now.”

Solon offered a nod, and the holoscreen winked off.

Ghessheim V
Hive city Xenith

“Bugger me, ANOTHER bunker? It’s cut off the next street!” Poison Kiss recoiled and ducked behind a barricade, almost tripping on the body of a dead militiaman.

“Heavy bolters?” Rot Blossom asked, galloping up to her.

Before Kiss could answer, a spear of bright red light punched through the ferrocrete wall. The beam was aimed high enough to take the head off of a man or Astartes crouching behind the barricade, but the unicorn was short enough that it cut right over her back, missing the top of her armor by mere inches. Kiss stood stock-still for a moment, and then clicked her tongue.

“No, it looks like the goons have anti-armor kit. Where’re the tanks?”

“Running way behind us! The enemy Sentinels keep trying to pick at the flanks of the advance, so the main column is re-routing to flush ‘em out! We’re pretty far ahead of the main forces!”

Another lascannon blasted above the barricade, stabbing into a hive tower uselessly. Kiss ducked a little lower to the ground, and a flicker of yellow light wrapped around her horn.

“Maybe we should pull back a little, then? I don’t fancy another hole in my flank.” Kiss levitated a hunk of burned rockcrete several feet away and lifted it above the top of the barricade. A second later it was struck by two laser beams and vaporized right before a burst of dozens of smaller lasbolts rained against their cover.

Breezy swooped down, sheltering behind the hive spire at the edge of the street. “There’s gotta be easier targets than that around here. Let’s break into one of these buildings and see if there’s a way through.”

“Peachy! Those doors look fortified, but I think we can…” Kiss trailed off when she spotted something soaring through the air up the street toward them. “Steely! Oi! Get down! It’s a dog’s dinner up there!”

The augmented pegasus swooped down, hovering just above Rot Blossom while she looked over the intersection. “What’s the hold-up?”

“A bunker. And I think there’re some gits keeping watch from the windows. Help us get this door open and-“

“Nah. I’m gonna go punch it,” Steely Lathe flapped her wings harder, gaining altitude. “Breeze, wanna back me up?”

“What? No! We can’t take on a bunker with just the two of us!” the other pegasus warned.

“Well I guess your friends better help us fight rather than sitting around here, huh?” Steely slammed her augmetic forelegs together, and the power fields clashed with the sound of a small thunderclap. “You ready?”

“No!” Breezy said, shaking her head rapidly.

“TOO BAD. Attack!” Steely bellowed, shifting her wings to soar into the line of fire.

“You shirty dunce!” Kiss shouted while her horn flared. An ammunition box jumped off the ground on a shroud of pale yellow energy, lifting high enough to be visible over the barricade. “Go! GO!!”

Breezy screamed as she launched herself into the air, curved sharply around the corner of the hive spire, and followed after Steely. The shriek of laser blasts came from below, slicing over the pavement in long spears and short bursts. As Kiss had predicted, there were also several militiamen firing out of the windows in the adjacent buildings, although they seemed to favor spraying fire at the pegasi rather than adding to the barrage on the intersection barricades.

Warning runes flickered around the edges of her heads-up display, and a dizzying storm of red flew around Breezy from multiple angles at once. This wasn’t, strictly speaking, the first time she had been in the middle of a massive, terrifying fusillade of defensive fire, but on the other occasions it had been against Orks, and as part of a much larger assault force. Hardened defense points were normally approached with heavy armor and siege guns, punishing artillery, or stealthy approaches through blind spots. Launching a berserk charge with a handful of moderately-armored troops was not among the approved tactics.

Steely twisted into a barrel roll, corkscrewing through the air while keeping her wings tight against her body. A moment later a larger beam of hot crimson death sliced through the air just beside her, coming close enough to scorch the feathers of one wing. An Icarus-pattern anti-air lascannon turret on the top of the bunker puffed coolant from its capacitors, and then carefully adjusted its tracking.

“Ah, ponyfeathers! They’ve got anti-air lascannons too! One hit from that thing and we’re toast!” Steely complained.

“WE TRIED TO TELL YOU THERE WERE TOO MANY GUNS WHY DID YOU INSIST ON-“

Steely suddenly banked sharply, slamming into Breezy and throwing both pegasi toward the nearest open window. The militia gunner positioned there barely had time to shout in surprise before the power-armored pony careened into his chest and knocked him flat on his back.

“Emperor save us!” Sputtered another gunman at the adjacent window, stumbling backwards. “The heretics have unleashed winged horrors against us!”

“Who you calling a horror, chump?” Steely complained as the soldier scrambled away. He swung his lasgun around toward the intruders, only for the augmented mare to jump up and swat it with her power hoof. The weapon snapped in half, the pieces flying across the room. A moment later a second kick punched a hole in the gunman’s torso, blasting him across the room.

The other soldier tried to grapple with Breezy, but a quick puff from her helmet left the man coughing painfully and all but helpless. The one-winged pegasus stepped off of her opponent, and then whirled on the other pony with a huff.

“Okay, so NOW what?” Breezy asked angrily, leaking foul gasses from her helmet respirator. “Any brilliant ideas besides charging straight down the street at the heaviest defensive position in the area?”

Steely wrinkled her snout and pushed her own rebreather more tightly against her muzzle. “Relax, we’ll still get there. Let’s just make our way through the spire until we’re as close as possible, and then jump it from the window.” Steely started trotting toward the hallway door of the hab-unit, kicking aside the corpse of her victim.

“That was our plan to attack the bunker in the first place!” Breezy shouted. “What was the point of leaving the rest of my squad behind?!”

“Well, for starters, we’ll get there a LOT faster than if we waited for them to keep up.” Steely slammed a power hoof into the door, tearing it partially open. Two more kicks ripped a hole large enough for the mares, and then Steely stepped back. “You’ve got the good armor so you should go first.”

“Oh so NOW Khorne cares from whom the blood flows?”

“Less chatting, more kicking!”

With an exasperated groan, Breezy leapt into the hallway. She immediately caught sight of a pair of militia gunmen jogging down the hall, and the soldiers stumbled to a halt in surprise and confusion at the sight of the armored pony.

“One chance to surrender before I turn you into a nesting ground for Grandfather’s plagues!” Breezy warned, raising the boltgun mounted on her foreleg. She didn’t have much of an inhibition toward killing humans in general, but she felt a lot less confident about fighting her way to their objective while separated from the rest of Phage Squadron.

The soldiers didn’t get the chance to speak before Steely leapt into the hall over the other pegasus. With a scream of incoherent and frankly inexplicable rage, the Khornate pony dove into one of the soldiers and took him down.

“Emperor’s light!” shouted the other one, recoiling and swinging his lasgun around. A burst of bolter fire cut into his side first, and by the time Steely finished stamping the other man to death their path was clear.

“This way!” Steely shouted, taking off down the hall again. “Head to the end of the hall and then break into the right doorway! We’ll be right over the bunker!”

“What, now you’re taking point?” Breezy broke into a gallop to try to keep pace with the augmented mare. “I thought I was supposed to lead the way because I had the better armor?”

“It’s fine! From what I saw we’ll probably get more gunfire from behind, anyway!”

“Wait, what do you mea-“

An autogun round struck the floor between Breezy’s legs, ricocheting off the tile and slapping against one of her greaves. She yelped in surprise, and then an outline of her armor flashed in the corner of her heads-up display as a lasblast hit her wing casing. Several gunmen were leaning into the hall from the nearby hab dormitories, firing their weapons while sheltering in the doorways.

“I DON’T LIKE THIS PLAN!!” Breezy cried as a burst of autogun bullets cut across her rear.

“Almost there! HIYAH!!”

Steely slammed a power hoof into the door, breaking the locking seals and denting the metal barrier inward. A second blow tore it open, and with an enraged shout she leapt into the hab.

A shotgun blast struck the wall behind her, coming close enough that the pellets scraped her shoulder plate. Steely’s wings swept forward, ready to lend her an extra burst of propulsion in her charge. But the pegasus hesitated, and the moment of opportunity was lost.

A teenage girl of maybe sixteen years was clumsily trying to load another shotgun shell into her weapon. She quivered in fear as she did so, shaking so badly that she couldn’t manage to fit the munition into the receptacle. She wore no armor and wasn’t taking cover behind any of the sparse furniture or divider walls, evidently lacking the tactical awareness to protect herself. The gun itself looked shabby and poorly maintained, at least as far as Steely could tell; having never bothered with projectile weapons herself, she only had a cursory understanding of what their optimal condition was like.

“What are you standing in the way for?” Breezy griped, suddenly shoving her way past the other mare. “They’re still shooting at me! Move!”

The girl recoiled at the appearance of another, even better-armed pegasus, and she backed into a wall. “S-Stay back! T-The Emp-p-peror will n-not forgive-“

“Oh knock it off, would you?” Steely interrupted sourly, approaching her. “And put that down before you hurt yourself!”

Her wing lashed out in front of her, wrapping around the barrel of the shotgun and wrenching it away from the resident. The girl flinched and slid down onto the floor, meeting Steely’s gaze in terrified silence.

“Tch!” Steely dropped the gun on the floor and then slammed a power hoof onto it, smashing the barrel flat and leaving a smoldering dent in the tiling. Then she trudged toward the window. “Let’s go before more cannon fodder shows up. I wanna crack that bunker before they make us regroup.”

“Erm…” Breezy followed after the other pegasus, but her helmet tilted conspicuously toward the girl crouched on the side of the hab. The resident jumped to her feet and sprinted for the hallway, wailing in fear the entire time.

“Forget about her. Khorne has standards, you know,” Steely sniffed. “We fight WARRIORS. She looked like she barely knew what end of the gun to point at me. There’s no satisfaction in spilling the blood of the weak.” She reached the outer wall of the hab and threw a power hoof into the window, smashing through the paneling.

Breezy’s eyes narrowed. “Then why are you bullying the pony Techpriest all the time?”

“There’s no satisfaction in spilling the blood of the weak unless they’re nerds,” Steely corrected.

A thunderclap coming from the streets below interrupted the mares, and Steely Lathe ducked her head reflexively. Breezy Blight switched her vision modes briefly, detecting several intense heat signatures through the walls before they quickly faded away.

“What was that? That didn’t sound like gunfire,” Steely mumbled, peeking over the window sill. She could still hear a muted buzzing noise, like the sound of a broken electrical transformer. Steely had heard the noise often when fighting Ork war machines.

“I think… the lascannon turret is down? There’s smoke coming from the bunker,” Breezy mumbled, joining her. “But the assault force is still en route to-“

“Dang it, did someone beat us there?!” Steely howled, leaping out the window with a mighty flip and diving straight toward the fortification.

“Wait! Aw, haystacks!” Breezy followed after her, a rising hum coming from her flight pack as the anti-grav boosters kicked in again and lifted her through the shattered window.

Steely’s mane and tail whipped about in the wind behind her as she dove straight for the lascannon mounted atop the bunker. It was an Icarus anti-air pattern, fitted with additional sensoria and fine-control turret servos for swift and easy targeting. The gun wasn’t itself damaged, and were there anyone manning the weapon from within the bunker, a single button press probably would have turned the mare flying straight toward the barrel into a cloud of dissociated atoms and scorched feathers.

A fierce buzz came from her front hooves as the power fields activated, and she drove one foreleg into the mouth of the gun. The barrel bent and split apart from the impact, and Steely swung the other leg into the cannon’s body. The turret shook from the impact, and scraps of smoldering metal flew all around her.

“If it’s not active, then you don’t need to break it,” Breezy opined while she approached her unwanted partner. “We’re here to take their weapons and stuff, y’know? It’s better to leave it alone.”

“Stop whining and get smashing!” Steely shot back, leaping off the top of the bunker.

She landed behind the fortification, did a quick check for any enemy troops, and then spun to face the armored door that led to the bunker’s interior. Steely flapped her wings and reared up, and power fields came alive around her forelegs.

“KNOCK KNOCK!!” Steely shouted.

The door opened with a soft hiss.

“Hello there, Miss Lathe. I’m glad you could join us.” Shifty Sights stood just within the fortification, a cat-like smirk on her muzzle. The unicorn had several lasburns on her cloak and her linen bandage wrappings were stained with blood in more than one spot, but she seemed uninjured.

Steely remained in her rearing pose for several seconds, deliberating whether to attack anyway. Eventually she fell forward, and the disruption fields powered off. Breezy slowly landed next to her, regarding the unicorn with confusion.

“What the hay, Sights?! When did you get here?” Steely demanded.

“Just in time to meet you,” Shifty purred, turning around and walking into the bunker. “The winds whispered that this fortification needed to be removed to aid our advance, so we proceeded to cut the threads of the defenders here. I’m sorry if that was… presumptuous of us.”

While Steely fumed, Breezy stepped forward to look inside the bunker. “We? Do you have a squad with you?”

The interior of the structure was riddled with lightning burns, and a vox transmitter was still sparking and emitting static from an earlier discharge. Bodies of a dozen men and women lay on the floor, some still clutching their weapons. One was slumped against the back end of a lascannon that poked through the bunker’s firing slit, and another lay beneath a cogitator pylon that led up to the turreted cannon on the roof.

Aside from the perished crew, the fortification was occupied by four other unicorns who were standing amongst the dead. Each one of them wore heavy robes decorated with runes and arcane script, as well as other embellishments typical of wizards. Feathers, jewels, and chains decorated their outfits to one degree or another, but like Shifty Sights they all had a silk blindfold on and possessed the Mark of Tzeentch.

“Ah, Sister Blight! Just as foretold,” a stallion said brightly, turning toward the armored mare.

“Sister BREEZY,” she corrected sharply, her vox lacing her voice with harsh static. “… Also, I’m not your sister.”

“All of the Dark Gods’ chosen are our brothers and sisters,” another unicorn chimed in softly. She was clearly responding to Breezy but her facing was just slightly off, speaking several inches to Breezy’s left. “We share a bond deeper than that of citizenship, or even comradery from being part of the same army. We have… understanding,” she purred.

“I’m missing some UNDERSTANDING right now, actually,” Steely groused, entering the bunker. “Specifically, I don’t understand why you nerds jumped ahead of us to kill everyone here before we could! The whole point of recklessly charging ahead of the main force is to get to the victims before anyone else can!”

“Let’s just say there were some messy threads extending to this point in time and space, and we wanted to prevent any unnecessary fraying,” Shifty explained.

“Is that supposed to mean anything to me?” Steely asked.

“Of course not!” giggled another unicorn. “Shall we depart then? Our reluctant royal is in fine hooves now!” She started trotting toward the bunker entrance, passing between the two pegasi.

“Aye, but be careful Shifty. The threads around that one are deeply tangled indeed. Too many possibilities,” the stallion mumbled while he too walked out.

“What? Royal? Where?” Breezy demanded.

“You’ll see!” chirped another unicorn mare trotting past her. “The streams of possibility wind to and fro, but all flow into the delta of-“ her muzzle suddenly collided with the bunker wall, as she had tried to exit nearly a foot to the left of the actual doorway. She fell onto her rear with a yelp, and then a tear dribbled out from under her blindfold.

“Haze! Are you okay?”

“Aaaaaugh! Ah bit muh tong! Ih hurrs! Aau aaagh!”

“Here, I’ve got you. Take my tail and follow me out. Oh, uh, watch the stinger, though. New mutation.”

“Am I the only one worried about her shooting lightning at things when her magic radar is bad?”

“Hush up or I might see a singed tail in your future.”

Breezy and Steely watched the embarrassing withdrawal in irritated silence, and after a few more seconds all the unicorns had left except for Shifty Sights. The bandage-wrapped mare wandered the bunker interior, marveling at some inexplicable vision only her sightless senses could detect. There seemed to be nothing of interest to the other ponies, given that their opponents had been vanquished and they couldn’t use any of the leftover weapons.

Breezy Blight quickly got tired of the silence and tapped the side of her helmet. “Well, whatever. Bunker cleared. Kiss? You read me?”

“We should have just kept flying the whole way rather than diverting into the hab,” Steely grunted, pouting and kicking one of the dead bodies on the floor.

“Don’t you have a squad of your own or something? Do you HAVE to tag along with us?” Breezy snapped.

“She does have to tag along, yes,” Shifty replied before Steely could. “It’s the best path.”

“Nobody asked you!” Steely growled. Then she coughed. “But, uh… actually I’m kinda lost. They still don’t want us to fly too high until the hive is taken, and I don’t have a comms thingy.”

“They wouldn’t give you a headset?”

“Nah, they did, but having another voice shouting at me to hit things wasn’t helpful, so I gave it back.”

“Is being this thick in the head a prerequisite for Khorne worship, or is it a result?” Breezy deadpanned.

“Mostly a result, I think. The cult doesn’t-HEY!” Steely’s legs crackled as she glared at the other pegasus. “Who’re you calling stupid?!”

The pegasi kept glaring at each other until the entry door to the rear of the bunker opened up again. Rot Blossom stuck her head in cautiously, and then brightened when she spotted the other ponies. Poison Kiss followed after a few seconds, her boltgun swinging to and fro on a shimmering cloud of yellow light.

“There you are! Thought you’d two bought the farm when you flew into the crossfire like that!” Kiss said, floating her bolter back onto her back. “What do you lot have to say for yourselves?”

“Don’t talk like I had anything to do with it! It was all her fault!” Breezy shouted, pointing an armored hoof at Steely Lathe.

“I would have made it easily if I didn’t have your bloated butt slowing me down!” Steely shot back. “We didn’t even get here in time to fight anyone!”

“If it’s targets you want, we’re not short of them,” Kiss huffed. “Just bust into a building and have at it. I don’t care anymore.”

“No, we need her with us,” Shifty said suddenly, stepping up next to the pegasi. “There aren’t many good threads without her attached.”

“What in the Plaguefather’s name are you on about?” Kiss replied, her helmet breaking open and lifting off her head. “We don’t need her with us, especially if she’s going to leap at every bobby we see between here and the hive nexus.”

“Our mission has challenges that we are generally… poorly suited to overcome,” Shifty said, giving Steely a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Power hooves are valuable tools, as are those warriors bold enough to use them.”

“What mission? Our mission is to support the vanguard, and we’ve already wandered a bit far already,” Kiss said, narrowing her eyes.

“Yeah, that doesn’t make sense to me, either. I mean, I don’t remember what my mission was supposed to be but it was probably closer to the vanguard thing than whatever you’re talking about,” Steely mumbled.

Shifty Sights smiled, saying nothing. After a few more seconds of frustrated silence, a beeping noise came from Poison Kiss’s gorget. A tiny lumen blinked on as the vox connected, and then a gruff voice filled the room.

“Phage Squadron, what is your status? We’re not tracking you nearby.” The voice sounded like an Astartes, although not one that they could recognize immediately.

“Copy that love; we’ve advanced a wee bit ahead of the main vanguard. We’ve secured a bunker blocking the main boulevard to the command center.” Kiss kept her eyes fixed on Shifty while she spoke, her brow furrowed under her horn. “I don’t think there are any more fortifications in our path, but these hive towers are lousy with militia.”

“The command center?” There was a long pause. “Understood. That’s your new objective.”

Kiss blinked. “The… The command center? You want us to take it? On our own?” She glanced around at the other mares.

“No. The command center is already… compromised. However, a handful of armored vehicles were redirected and are on their way to secure it. I am feeding you nav data now. You will intercept them.”

“Oh. Cheers!” Kiss hesitated. “Uhm, what kind of armored vehicles, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Sentinels, Leman Russ battle tanks, and Chimera APCs.”

“B-Battle tanks?” Kiss sputtered. “Wait, you said a ‘handful,’ so how many-“

“Attack immediately, Phage Squadron! Do not let them destroy the command center before the main assault force arrives! Iron within! Iron without!” A blast of static indicated that the vox channel had closed, leaving the mares in stunned silence.

“I… have additional questions,” Rot Blossom said weakly.

“I don’t!” Steely Lathe turned her neck to give Shifty Steps a dreadful smile. “This was the mission you were going on about, right? Let’s go break stuff!”

“Hold the vox now, we’re not talking an infantry squad or a few scouts here! This sounds like a heavy assault force!” Poison Kiss complained. “The last time I rushed a Leman Russ things went all to pot pretty quickly!”

“Well, they said there’s only a ‘handful’ of targets, right? So maybe there’s only one tank?” Breezy Blight offered.

“There will be two battle tanks,” Shifty interjected. “Three Sentinel scout walkers, and two Chimeras full of troops. Oh! And a Hellhound.”

“Hellhound?! They didn’t mention any Hellhounds! What even is a Hellhound?!” Breezy shouted.

“Well, let’s see…” Shifty stared up silently for several seconds. “Ah. It’s a flamethrower vehicle, apparently.” She turned her eyeless gaze to the other ponies. “Also: Miss Blossom, don’t bother running for cover to hide from it. It doesn’t help, apparently.”

“Isn’t eight vehicles a bit much for a ‘handful?’” Blossom mumbled, lowering her head.

“I dunno. Their hands are pretty big, I guess?”

“Okay, okay, everypony simmer down!” Kiss snapped. “Shifty, you can see the future, right? Exactly how do we do this?”

Shifty tilted her head to the side. “Well it’s more like I can see a distinct array of possibilities, with certainty being clearer the more immediate-“

“We don’t give a whit about the technical claptrap just tell us if we live or not!” Kiss shouted.

Shifty recoiled, and her nose bunched up before her expression shifted into a sour frown. “I can’t say if you’ll survive for sure, but I can say that it becomes a LOT less likely if you’re going to be rude about it,” she huffed.

“Okay, please, calm down,” Blossom said, cringing. “Let’s try and figure this out. When is the enemy going to get here?”

“In like a minute or two,” Steely replied before Shifty could.

“Wha… How would you know? Since when can Khornate blood fanatics see the future?” Breezy asked.

“I can’t see the future, but I can see outside,” Steely said, pointing an augmetic leg behind the armored mares.

Phage Squadron turned around, and then Kiss sucked in a breath through her teeth. A line of armored vehicles was moving up the boulevard toward their bunker, led by a spearhead of Sentinel scout walkers. Two Leman Russ battle tanks rumbled after them, their turrets slowly swiveling back and forth. More vehicles were lined up behind them, but it was difficult to see them through the gunner’s slit of the bunker; presumably they were the APCs and Hellhound, if Shifty’s precognition was accurate.

“Wh-What do we do? Should we shoot them?” Blossom asked in a panic.

“I vote for punching,” Steely said, raising a wing.

“Pipe down! They don’t know we’ve stormed this position, or else they’d have opened fire already. We have a lascannon. We can make this work,” Kiss insisted.

“Two lascannons if you count the top-mounted gun.”

“Can any of you operate it?”

The Nurgle cultists looked over at the cogitator on the wall. The screen was still flickering on and off every few seconds, and sparks blasted from the bundle of cables and wiring running from the top of the device up into the ceiling. A long blackened streak across the keyboard and another on the side still stunk of ozone where the magical lightning had struck.

“See, this is why I said we should be dragging Gear Works along with us on our combat missions,” Breezy sighed. “Having no Techpony support is dangerous way out here.”

“He wasn’t even assigned to the raiding fleet, though.”

“We could have brought him anyway! What is he going to do, refuse?”

“Hey, can we focus?!” Steely snapped. “The chicken walkers are almost here!”

“All right, listen up,” Kiss hissed, lowering her voice. “We’ve got to take these saps by surprise or those main guns will mash this bunker like an old tomahto. We wait until the convoy has mostly passed and then shoot ‘em in the back! Shifty, can you man the las and nail a Russ?”

The other unicorn winced. “Uh, well, I don’t really have time to explain all the specific mechanics of my magic not-vision so let’s just say no, I can’t do that.”

“Gah! Fine! I’ll do it! Steely, you and Breeze jump on the walkers after the first tank goes down, okay?”

“YES!! Finally!!” Steely whooped, much to the chagrin of the other mares.

“Blossom, attack from a safe angle and try to immobilize or pry open those transports so we get some softer targets! Shifty, go with Blossom and help her avoid any unexpectedly fatal decisions!”

Shifty winced again. “Any chance I can go back up the pegasi instead?” Behind her, Rot Blossom whimpered and her knees started shaking.

“NO! Stick with your partner!”

“Can you shoot the Hellhound first then, Kiss?” Blossom asked weakly. “Please?”

“All right, fine! Now get in position!” Poison Kiss rushed over to the gunner slit and pressed her side against the wall. “We’re only going to get one shot at this, ponies!”

The hiss of pistons and the grinding of heavy treads filled the boulevard as the small parade of armor raced toward the bunker.

The Leman Russ battle tank, named for the most savage of the Space Marine Primarchs that did NOT eventually succumb to the corruption of Chaos, had been a mainstay of Imperial armies for over ten thousand years, and for good reason. Boasting a heavy primary cannon, a secondary heavy weapon, two side-mounted gun sponsons, and often a pintle-mounted stubber as well, the tank boasted enough sheer firepower to threaten hordes of infantry or smash alien vehicles powered by unfathomable technologies. Such was the versatility and might of the Leman Russ that the vehicles were prime plunder for those armies that preferred to take their weapons from their victims rather than construct their own. Many such tanks were even now being repaired and towed out of the hive by the 38th Company’s scavengers to bolster their strength on future raids.

These particular tanks were headed directly away from the front lines of the invasion, but as they neared the bunker at the end of the boulevard the head Russ slowed. The Sentinels in the vanguard had all stopped right in front of the fortification in the middle of the intersection, and there seemed to be a conversation happening among the pilots. The rest of the convoy swiftly brought itself to a halt, and the inferno and multilaser turrets turned to cover the rear of the formation.

“No response… Is this pillbox dead?”

“There’s a little smoke, but I don’t see any serious damage. Probably deserted.”

“Filthy cowards. They shame the Emperor with their weakness!”

“Keep it moving! We need the command center leveled! You want the heretics to catch up?!”

Two of the Sentinel walkers swung about to move on. The third one lingered. Its pilot leaned out of the cab of his walker, peering into the vision slit. The barrel of a lascannon still jutted out from the gunnery slit of the bunker, aiming straight down the street the convoy had just traversed.

The armored vehicles started rumbling by behind the scout walker. The pilot finally sat down in his seat with a shrug. Then he swung his Sentinel about and rushed to the tail end of the convoy. The APCs rolled past, and then the Hellhound flame tank started to turn to follow the other vehicles.

An aura of sickly yellow wrapped around the bunker’s lascannon, slowly tilting it upward and to the side.

The ambush began, as such things often do, with an explosion.

The lascannon beam pierced the heavy armored vessel in the rear of the Hellhound, boring into the inferno cannon’s fuel supply. Temperature gauges all jumped into the red as the special promethium mix absorbed the heat of the laser, and light bloomed from the entry wound as oxygen rapidly flooded into the hole. The entire back end of the vehicle detonated, throwing hot shards of metal across the street. The Sentinel nearby lurched to the side, its gyros fighting against the shock wave of the explosion. The other vehicles squealed to a halt, their sponsons and turrets whirling about.

“YO HO HO THE PONY PIRATES ARE HERE!! FIRST WE’LL TAKE YOUR LIFE, THEN YOUR BOOTY!! IRON SOMETHING SOMETHING!!”

Steely Lathe took off like a missile, leaping out from behind the bunker’s top-mounted lascannon and launching toward the nearest Sentinel walker. The cab barely began to swing around before her power hoof struck the passenger cage, shattering the outer plating and knocking the entire walker over onto the ground.

“BLOOD AND FRIENDSHIP!! SKULLS AND TOLERANCE!!” the frenzied pegasus leapt on the pilot, her augmetic hooves crackling with power.

Breezy followed Steely’s flight path, firing her boltgun at the other walkers. Only one Sentinel was at the rear of the convoy, with the other two having moved past the intersection with the tanks. The guns were already swiveling in the ponies’ direction, while the battle cannons seemed to turning the other way, toward the bunker.

“Steely, let’s move! Next target! Go, go, go!” Breezy boosted her speed right before stubber rounds started whipping by her, trying to build her altitude without completely abandoning the other pegasus. The jaw plate of Breezy’s helmet snapped open, and then a cloud of dark, greenish mist blasted into the air ahead of her before ballooning outward and spreading in all directions.

Multilasers from the Chimera APCs began chasing after Breezy, slicing into the shroud of inky vapor. Steely and her initial victim were almost entirely obscured by the wreckage and smoke from the Hellhound, mercifully cutting off their line of sight. The bunker, however, had not been forgotten.

A battle cannon fired, shaking the chassis of the Leman Russ before the side of the bunker exploded into flame and shrapnel. Cracks ran through the rest of the structure, but the frame held.

The bunker’s lascannon fired again, slicing through the side of a Chimera and boring through several wheels at an angle. After a few seconds the tread links on that side came apart, throwing shards of superheated metal into the street.

A second battle cannon fired, and this time the frame didn’t hold. Ferrocrete buckled, and the fortification collapsed inward. A frightened yelp came from within, and then a cloud of dust and flames bloomed over the debris.

“KISS!!” Rot Blossom, who had been rushing into the street, stumbled to a halt as the bunker was destroyed. A heavy bolter round whipped by her head a second later, startling her back into action.

“Cover behind the stopped APC! Keep your head down!” Shifty galloped after the earth pony, and then vanished into a cloud of smoke. She emerged behind the torched Hellhound, and her horn sparked while lasers filled the air and heavy weapons rattled away.

Breezy and Steely soared overhead a moment later, plunging into the smoke column over the wrecked vehicle and diving out the other side. Breezy’s boltgun rattled in the air, raining mass-reactive shells on the convoy, but the weapon seemed to have little effect.

A multilaser blast struck her leg, and then another hit her chest. Heat bloomed through the armor frame, and diagrams flashed red on her visor. She banked left, and stubber rounds whistled by her head while the guns tried to track her.

“Almost… there…” Breezy’s helmet opened up again, and she blew a stream of acrid vapor into the cab of a Sentinel. The walker started flailing back and forth while its pilot choked and wrenched at the controls, and then it slammed a foot into a rockcrete barricade. The Sentinel tripped, throwing it end over end and flinging the dying pilot from his seat.

“That’s one more down!” Breezy shouted, tilting her flight path upward right before a heavy bolter shell crashed into her side. She was flung through the air, trying to regain control, when two more heavy bolts struck her wing. The frame buckled, and a mess of metal and feathers were blown off of her flight pack on trails of smoke and shrapnel.

Spared the pain of having part of her wing blasted off by her infernal blessings, Breezy howled in anger and frustration while she spun out of control, eventually smashing into the bed of a mag-hauler. The Leman Russ that had shot her down rumbled past, following its twin down the street. The remaining Sentinel approached close enough to check the fate of the pilot that had been gassed, and then quickly turned away and raced after the heavier armor.

“Hey! Where do they think they’re going?!” Steely asked, growling at the departing armor. She was currently dismantling the treads of the damaged Chimera with her power hooves, tearing through the links and wheels and kicking away piles of warped metal.

“The other APC is leaving too! And the last Sentinel! They sure are in a hurry!” Shifty complained.

The Chimera they were sheltering behind was also trying to move away, but having much less success. With the lascannon damage on one side and Steely tearing through the treads on the other, the vehicle couldn’t hope to keep up with the rest of the convoy. Its multilaser turret snapped left and right, searching for a target but unable to get an angle on the ponies sheltering behind it.

Rot Blossom slammed a hoof into the rear of the APC, a growl of anger and sorrow echoing from her vox. “Get out here, you stupid mules! There’s still enough of Phage Squadron to turn you all into diseased mulch!”

“Erm, Blossom, you-“ Shifty began, only to be cut off by a furious scream.

Rot Blossom bellowed into the air, and a veritable cloud of insects burst from around her armor. Vents and cracks seethed with dull chitin, and her helmet’s jaw hinge opened to regurgitate a giant centipede onto the ground.

“Sometimes I’m actually glad I can’t really see anymore.” Shifty shuddered in disgust, backing away from the emerging swarm. “Er, also, you need to-“

“COME OUT AND FIGHT ME!!” Blossom raged, rearing up and pounding her front greaves against the embarkation ramp. “IN NURGLE’S NAME, I WILL SEE EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU-“

The embarkation ramp suddenly dropped free of its mag-locks, slamming onto Blossom’s head. The mare yelped in surprise, and then her legs buckled as the impact of metal on ceramite rang in her ears.

Shifty, having seen this coming, lashed out with a lightning bolt as soon as Blossom fell low enough to clear her line of fire. A whip of coruscating electricity drilled into the first soldier emerging, and then lashed out to strike two others following behind him. A man who had been mercifully spared the arcane attack raised his melta gun, but the unicorn had already vanished in a puff of pink smoke. The melta gun blasted through the shroud anyway, carving a molten trench into the street that belched acrid vapor into the air.

Several more soldiers pushed past the twitching bodies that had fallen, lasguns leveled and ready but no target in sight. One spotted something out of the corner of his eye and turned, pointing off to the side. “Look! The xeno flies!”

“This xeno also PUNCHES!” Steely screamed, diving into the squad. A pair of lasblasts burst toward her before impact, two of them streaking past and one burning into her chest plate. Then her foreleg connected, striking the nearest soldiers in the chest.

The power field around her hoof cracked like a thunderbolt, and a tremendous pressure wave threw the soldier into his squad with much of his torso caved in. Steely twisted around and spun a hoof into the melta gunner, crushing his shoulder and hurling him into the street. A bayonet slashed at her, cutting into a thinner fold of her armor over one of her rear legs and into the flesh beneath. This only made her angrier, and her eyes blazed with eldritch fury as she decapitated the culprit.

“Take the beast down! Surround it, you cowards!” shouted the squad Sergeant, drawing a chainsword.

He suddenly stumbled when searing pain flooded his ankle. Glancing down, his eyes widened in shock when he saw a massive centipede biting into his leg, its body curving around the edge of the embarkation ramp. With a furious snarl, he gunned the engine of his weapon, and then slashed down at the revolting creature. The roaring saw teeth tore through the centipede’s carapace with ease, spewing foul ichor across the ramp.

It was not the only arthropod underfoot.

Insects of a striking variety started swarming from under the ramp, clambering up the incline and leaping onto any human legs they could find. Several collected around the soldiers that had already been dispatched, burrowing into their still-warm bodies or between the folds of their clothes. The bugs were large enough to be potentially dangerous, with sharp mandibles and envenomed stingers, but in the presence of Steely Lathe they mostly served as a distraction to keep the soldiers off-balance. The pegasus leapt from man to man in an insane frenzy of popping disruption fields and scorched feathers, sometimes striking faster than her power hooves could recharge between impacts. The soldiers that were sent to the deck with horseshoe-shaped bruises rather than shattered bones didn’t last much longer; Steely rarely let up on a target until she felt the jaw-rattling impact of her power hooves’ disruption fields against flesh and armor.

The embarkation ramp suddenly jolted upward several inches, and the scrape of metal against ceramite came from underneath the melee. Rot Blossom snarled incoherently as she clambered out from under the heavy metal slab, her armor decorated with flattened insects. Once she was free she promptly stood up and whirled around, a curse already on her tongue and a new swarm of bugs emerging from her armor’s nesting receptacles.

She was swiftly met with a lasblast to the face, scoring her helmet right under its visor. Blossom didn’t flinch at the damage, but nor did she react fast enough when she saw the shooter coming at her with his chainsword.

“By the Emperor’s light you xeno fiends will be cast back to the void!” the Sergeant roared while he struck. The chainsword landed on Blossom’s neck above her shoulder pad, chewing into the slightly thinner and more flexible plating there.

Blossom’s legs buckled, and sparks blasted over her back from the saw teeth grinding away at her armor. Several wasps shot forward to sting the Sergeant, but the man’s ferocity was unshakeable and utterly focused. After several seconds he finally pulled the chainblade away, and a victorious grin stretched across his face as a splash of blood crossed his boots. He aimed his laspistol and drew his sword back again.

A lance of coruscating flame suddenly pierced his back, burning through the Sergeant’s torso before emerging from his chest in a puff of azure fire. His face twisted into an expression of shock and disbelief, and the man held the pose for a good two seconds before he collapsed to the ramp. Blossom’s insects leapt at the opportunity, swarming over the man while the smoke was still seeping from his wound.

“Something something something BLOOD GOD!!” Steely spun about in a whirlwind of feathers, and her back leg kicked a lasgun hard enough to split the weapon in two.

Still howling semi-coherently, Steely Lathe slammed a power hoof into the jaw of the disarmed soldier, obliterating everything above his shoulders. A flap of her wings brought her higher just as a bayonet stabbed for her rear, and she twisted about to punch the opponent that had attacked her. Two power hooves struck without the benefit of their disruption fields, smacking the soldier’s chest and throwing him down into the street.

The berserk pegasus lifted up again, only to dive straight down atop the stunned conscript. The impact wave struck with a deafening thunderclap and reduced the soldier and many of the nearby bugs to a paste. Those insects that were far enough away not to be smeared where flung into the air, and a surprised shout came from Shifty Sights when a dead centipede’s body landed over her muzzle.

“Ack! Hey! No! Get off!” the Dark Mage yelped, flailing about comically while numerous beetles and wasps flew around her in a confused swarm.

“RRRRRRAAAAAAAAUGH!!” Steely jumped into the air again from the shattered crater underneath her, her eyes glowing a furious red. She swiveled back and forth, energy crackling around her power hooves, but quickly came to realize that there were no more enemies in sight.

“Oh… okay. Fight’s over.” The blood rage drained from her body quickly, and she dropped down to the street. There were several new laser burns and cuts on her carapace armor, and one of her wings was matted with blood that was at least partially her own.

The pegasus was in obviously better shape than Rot Blossom, however. The earth pony’s helmet was slightly flattened up top, and the lens of one eye was cracked in her visor. She also had a vicious gash torn into the gorget of her armor that had obviously reached the flesh underneath. Steely decided not to observe the wound too closely though; there were already worms visibly squirming into the breach.

“Is… Is that it?” Blossom gasped, seeming rather stunned. “Did we win?”

“In the sense that we are alive and the opponents in our immediate vicinity are not, YES!” Shifty said. A wasp landed on her back leg, and then it was shorn in half in an instant as the unicorn’s tail whipped across her flank. “Sorry about vanishing on you guys, but I had to take out the driver and gunner to make sure they couldn’t bring the multilaser around on us.”

“No prob.” Steely slammed her power hooves together, and a concussive blast threw her hair back as the blood and grime around the weapons was burned away. “We gonna hit the survivors now? Where’d they go, anyway?”

A heavy clanking noise came from down the street as Breezy Blight tumbled from the mag-hauler and landed gracelessly onto the street. Smoke was still pouring from her flight pack, and one of the wings had been badly mangled by heavy bolter impacts. The pegasus seemed quite aggravated by the damage while she stood up and raced toward the other ponies, although they had to assume it was less about the injury and more about the inconvenience of being grounded.

“The Russ tanks took off thataway. I don’t think they ever actually stopped,” Breezy said, nudging her head back toward where she had come from. “What are we going to do?”

“Chase them down and smash them!” Steely snarled.

“OR… we could follow them and wait for an opportune moment for an ambush,” Shifty retorted. “We got lucky that the convoy was in such a hurry. There were many paths rockier than this one.”

An enraged scream suddenly tore through the air.

A huge tendril of yellow energy, glowing and crackling malevolently, erupted from the rubble of the bunker and showered the adjacent street with rubble. It was soon joined by three others, and the magical tentacles wrapped or pushed the heaviest pieces of debris away from the center of the structure’s remains.

A smaller figure started to rise from the rubble, also wreathed in an aura of sickly yellow. “NURGLE… WILL… FEAST… ON-“

“Kiss, they’re already gone,” Breezy interrupted with a sigh.

The tendrils winked out of existence, and nearly a half ton of scorched ferrocrete dropped into the streets with a dry thud. Kiss’s aura faded, and she slumped back down into the debris mostly burying her.

“…… When you’re done with your little break you fancy helping me out of here?” Poison Kiss asked irritably. “No hurry, I might have a concussion but whatever no need to fuss over little old me.”

Rot Blossom quickly rushed to assist, and Steely jumped up to join her.

“So the tanks got away. Does this mean we failed? What happens if we fail?” Breezy asked nervously.

“Oh, we haven’t failed! Not yet,” Shifty said with a giggle. “We’ll fail if the tanks destroy their target before we stop them!”

The thunder of a battle cannon’s report rolled through the streets. The tanks hadn’t gone more than a few blocks from the intersection, and seem to have entered the vehicle lot in front of the command center. It was protected by a high wall and as such most of the building wasn’t visible from the intersection, but given their orders it wasn’t hard to guess what the tanks were shooting at.

“Oh BUGGER ME,” Kiss groaned while she squirmed out from under a chunk of ferrocrete. Once she had stumbled away Steely shoved the debris away and shook herself to remove the dust.

“We’re going to want to go help,” Shifty said, gesturing down the street.

“How?! There are still two battle tanks and an APC! Plus the last Sentinel and probably a squad of ground troops too!” Breezy said. “We gave it our best! Let’s just wait for the Space Marines to catch up!”

“Well I don’t know about you guys but I was planning on punching them some more,” Steely said with a shrug.

Another pair of cannon blasts came from behind the retainer wall.

“We don’t have long. But we’re not alone,” Shifty remarked.

“Nurgle deliver us,” Kiss sighed. “Fine. Phage Squadron, get the lead out and prepare for enemy contact. Lead the way, you spooky git.”

“Quickly! The paths diverge a lot up ahead, but if we delay there can only be one outcome!” Shifty announced, galloping down the street.

“What does that mean?” Breezy grumbled.

“It means MOVE, ponies!” Kiss snarled, racing after the other unicorn. “This is our last chance!”

Ghessheim V
Xenith Municipal Command

Explosions rocked the command center as another pair of cannon shells drilled into the side, tearing apart rockcrete and durasteel in massive, fiery gouges. Cogitators were flattened and corpses burnt away by the blasts, and more of the outer wall of the command center fell away to reveal the blood-stained interior. Metal scraps and flaming rubble rolled across the floor, and damaged cabling spat sparks into the air.

Following the battle cannons came a pair of lascannons slicing into the opening. The lasers speared across the interior and burned through the machinery and debris in their path, leaving tracks of molten orange in their wake. Autocannons offered a more rapid drumbeat of destruction, pouring shell after shell into the command center’s doors and windows.

“If anything comes out of there, you shoot it down!” snarled a Lieutenant, pointing his power saber at the damaged building. “Human, alien, heretic; I don’t care if General Tammael himself comes crawling out of the smoke! Reduce that building and everything in it to dust and ash!”

A squad of troopers with autocannons had set up in the space between the Leman Russ tanks, mounting their weapons on a rockcrete barricade. Their squad mates were crouched next to the wall, lasguns propped up on the top edge and ready to fire. The Sentinel walker stood behind the line, its own lascannon adding the fusillade. The Chimera was parked behind the squad, its multilaser pouring a constant stream of destructive light across the room interior.

Autocannon shells and lasers battered the command center, punctuated by great explosions from the battle cannons. The building was large and sturdy with reinforced walls, but with the firepower arrayed against them it would be a matter of minutes until complete structural collapse, and anything inside would be pulverized long before that point.

One of the soldiers stopped firing and dropped to one knee in order to reload his lasgun. Glancing behind the squad, toward the entry gate in the defensive wall, he thought he glimpsed something shiny next to one of the gate pylons. He stopped and stared for several seconds, but couldn’t see anything there.

“Are you taking a break, Wilhelm?!” barked the officer, his hand resting on the holster of his laspistol. “What did I tell you?! Keep firing!”

The armsman stuttered an affirmation and stood up, adding his own spray of laser blasts to the fusillade pouring into the smoke.

Around the gate pylon, Rot Blossom had her side pressed tightly to its sloped, rockcrete base with her head down. It was impossible to hear if someone was approaching amongst the thunderstorm of gunfire, but she didn’t want to check again. The other mares were clustered to her side, behind the main retainer wall, patiently waiting for her to report.

“… Okay, they’re not shooting back here. I guess he didn’t see me,” Blossom gasped.

“How’s it look?” Breezy asked.

“It looks like there’s tanks blasting away at the command center along with a Sentinel and a squad of troops between them!” Blossom hissed. “Plus a Chimera on standby! We’re not taking those down! What are we even doing here?”

“That’s a lot,” Shifty admitted. “But we have to try.”

“All right, fine. What’s your future sight or whatever see?” Kiss asked.

“Diddly and squat,” Shifty admitted, shrugging. “Too many paths, too many twists and curves. It’s all a hopeless blur right now. But every path after we walk away ends the same: the command center is flattened and the big bosses are VERY unhappy with us.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad compared to staring down two battle cannons,” Breezy admitted.

“Stop being a wimp! We’ve got them flanked and they’re busy shooting at nothing!” Steely insisted. “I wanna punch a tank!”

A rumbling noise came from the command center as a major support buckled. Half of the building started to crumble, with the roof sagging over the collapsing walls.

“We’re out of time,” Shifty said, her horn humming with magic, “It’s now or never.”

“This is completely barmy, but that’s what we signed up for, innit?” Kiss sighed. “Breezy, charge the squad and see if you can gas them. Shifty, cast something to help her make it in one piece. Steely-“

“I’mma punch a tank!” the Reaver snarled.

“Yes, fine, but wait a few seconds after Breezy goes so they don’t pick you off on approach. Blossom, we’re going to split off on either side and plink at the walker with bolters. Savvy?”

“TIME TO MAKE THE IRON WITHIN THE IRON WITHOUT!!” Steely roared, instantly alerting the soldiers on the other side of the wall.

Several militia gunmen whirled around at the shout, and then crouched when an armored pony jumped through the gate and started galloping toward them. Three of them opened fire, and a dozen lasers pierced the grounded pegasus.

Breezy Blight burst into colored smoke, and then two armored ponies erupted from the shroud, galloping at slightly different angles. The confused soldiers kept shooting, and a second Breezy reeled before bursting like a smoke grenade. Again, two more ponies in power armor raced from the cloud, making a mad sprint for the infantry.

“Heretical witchcraft!” sputtered one defender as he turned another illusory pony into pink vapor. “Behind us! The xenos are flanking!”

The multilaser turret on the Chimera swung about, adding a fan of heavy laser blasts to the defensive fire. More Breezy Blights were pierced by high-energy beams, and the heavy bolter sponsons on the sides of the Leman Russ tanks swiveled to join them. Soon a flurry of crossfire tore through the charging ponies, creating so many bursts of smoke that the entire assault became a rolling cloud of colored mist.

“Keep firing! Cleanse the xeno scum!”

“Firing at what? I can’t see anything!”

“Battle cannons! Get the battle cannons over here! Fire into the center of that mess!”

The Leman Russ tanks started swiveling their turrets about, bringing their biggest guns to bear as picking out discrete targets through the smoke became impossible. The laser fire from the infantry slackened, and some of the men jumped the barricade to shelter on the other side.

“Coming through, chumps!” Steely flew out of the smokescreen at high speed, leaping over a stream of heavy bolter shells to reach the back of a Leman Russ. Her power hooves struck the tank with explosive force, caving in the engine block.

At about the same time, a jet of green gas erupted from the shroud, blowing into the soldiers at the barricade. The men scattered, coughing and retching, only for a lightning bolt to leap out at them and slay three of them in as many seconds.

“Keep up the pressure! We’ve got ‘em, ladies!” Kiss shouted, her boltgun rattling ferociously over her head.

“The tank!” Blossom cried while she ran in the opposite direction from her squad leader. “The tank is almost-“

The Leman Russ – the one being savaged by a cybernetic pegasus, specifically – fired its battle cannon into the cloud of obscuring smoke. The explosion blew away the shroud from the center, scattering the strange colored mist around a column of flame. Shifty and Breezy, who were still hiding within the smoke, were knocked off their hooves by the pressure wave and flung to the ground, senseless.

The vehicles paused in their fire, each of the gunners adjusting their targeting now that all the enemies were exposed. The battle cannon that had not yet fired upon the ponies tilted to follow Rot Blossom while heavy bolter fire chased her across the lot.

A shout came from the Sentinel pilot. “No! The command center! It’s-“

The report of another battle cannon boomed through the lot. The shell crashed into the Leman Russ, cracking the front armor and flattening the lascannon mounted on the front of the chassis while bits of armor plating were blasted away into the air. The tank sputtered for a few seconds, its heavy bolter sponsons firing aimlessly and one tread grinding forward, and then a burst of autocannon shells stitched across the tank’s front, stabbing into the broken armor panels. Its ammunition detonated, and the Sentinel was almost knocked off its feet as the battle tank vanished into a cloud of flame and shrapnel.

“That… What was…” Blossom almost tripped over her own hooves as pieces of armor and machinery bounced across the lot, trailing smoke.

Within the command center, through the flames and smoke of the earlier bombardment, something large and metal crawled over the rubble. Pointed, spider-like legs lifted a heavy chassis over the shattered interior, each one protected by gleaming armor plates painted black and trimmed with gold. A massive three-fingered claw reached out for an unbroken section of wall, and with a gentle hiss and a ferocious crunch it tore the impediment away. A battle cannon jutted proudly from the chest of a boxy, swivel-mounted torso, while a twin-linked autocannon and heavy flamer were mounted on either side.

Atop the crab-like monstrosity was a head almost comically small in proportion to the rest of the machine. Eyes of glowing green peered out from behind a mask of beaten gold, and long, rubbery cables ran from the back like a lock of hair. A crooked horn rose from the mask’s forehead; gold, like the mask itself but run through with visible circuitry and wiring. Every one of the ponies recognized that horn and realized what this new war machine was, and a deep terror touched their hearts even as it moved to engage their enemies.

“You’re a cheeky bunch, trying to bring down the entire building on me,” Chrysalis cackled, scrambling out into the lots. Her voice was accompanied by a metallic screech as she laughed, snapping the massive claws of her Defiler form. “Come closer, little ones! I’ve never tried out this body before!”

A lascannon suddenly sliced into one leg, and Chrysalis yelped comically as the servo went slack and her chassis tilted dangerously to one corner. She pushed herself back up and twisted to aim at the Sentinel that had shot her, the eyes in her mask glowing brighter. “HEY! Get back here, you little punk!” she snarled before the reaper autocannon opened up. The enemy walker sped away, sprinting just ahead of the shells tearing apart the ground.

The remaining Russ had finally reloaded its cannon and was swiveling its turret back around to take aim at the newest threat. It’s heavy bolters had already switched targets, spitting dozens of heavy bolts into the Defiler’s Warp-energized armor plating. Its lascannon fired as well, slicing a lance of red through a corner of the Defiler’s torso.

Just as the cannon was in place, Steely leapt over the top of the turret and gave the main gun a solid punch with her power hooves. A loud crack came from the cannon’s barrel as it caved inward, pinching the tube and warping its aim.

“HEY, DON’T IGNORE ME!!” the Khornate pony raged. “COME OUT AND FIGHT YOU SISSY LITTLE-“

The battle cannon fired, which went very poorly for all involved.

The shell detonated halfway through the barrel, absolutely shredding the rest of the cannon and vomiting a tongue of flame and bits of shrapnel across the lot. Steely, who was behind the explosion, was nevertheless flung through the air and knocked senseless. Chrysalis flinched away from the blast and ended up getting hit by a jet of fire and bits of the destroyed gun, although with the benefit of a Defiler’s armor she wasn’t so much harmed as shocked.

Chrysalis clambered over to the tank while lasers splashed against her armor from the Chimera’s main turret. One claw swung into the side of the Leman Russ like a mace, pitching the vehicle sharply to one side, and then the other claw sunk into the Russ’s turret.

“Like a can opener,” the changeling cackled, tearing the turret head off the tank and hurling it away. The hunk of discarded metal slammed into the Chimera, briefly interrupting the stream of fire from its multilaser. Then Chrysalis blasted a jet of fire into the exposed chassis, bathing the interior in flame before slugging the tank yet again.

“We can’t hold them! Fall back!” The squad commander coughed out, stumbled toward the APC. He was nearly blinded and halfway paralyzed from the viral toxins he had inhaled, one hand clutching at his throat. Most of his squad followed in a similar state, leaving their weapons laying on the ground next to the barricade.

Chrysalis twisted her upper body toward the transport, and spat a single battle cannon shell into it. The Chimera’s hull folded inward and then detonated, pulverizing the nearby soldiers that were struggling to embark. The Queen of the Changelings laughed at the carnage, her voice like a knife drawing across steel.

The final Imperial vehicle – the Sentinel scout walker – zig-zagged toward the gate that exited to the city streets. Autocannon shot chased after it, blowing holes the size of bowling balls in the ground but failing to hit the speedy walker directly. The pilot made a sharp turn and lined up his path with the gate, pushing his speed to the limit. The Sentinel nearly stepped on Breezy as a result, and the pegasus yelped as a heavy metal foot slammed onto the rockcrete right in front of her face before stepping over her.

Then the pilot cried out in pain, and the entire walker swerved to the side. A wasp the size of a man’s hand clung to the pilot’s back, its stinger lodged firmly in his neck. The man’s flailing quickly wiped away the insect, and through the intense pain and toxins flooding his body, he reoriented the walker toward the exit.

He didn’t make it much further, as that was about when a power hoof diving through the air connected with his skull.

“Ha ha… ha… mission complete…” Shifty Sights slowly pushed herself up off the ground, her legs trembling and her head pounding. While the shimmering magic cloak on her back was excellent at absorbing laser fire, it offered much less protection against concussive shock waves.

Breezy enjoyed much more substantial protection from being knocked around by explosions, and she was back on her hooves faster than the unicorn despite being much closer to the blast zone. She whirled around to face Shifty Steps, and then stamped a boot on the ground furiously.

“Mission complete?! MISSION COMPLETE?! We were nearly blown away TWICE and you’re telling me that it was all to rescue HER?!” Breezy aimed her augmetic wing toward the Defiler crouched in the vehicle lot.

“Uh… well, yes.” Shifty grumbled. “I’m not really thrilled about it either.”

“Is that a problem?” Chrysalis was holding up the chassis of a Leman Russ in one claw, observing it like one might a broken toy. “Not that I needed a ‘rescue’ but it was nice to have the cannons aimed somewhere else for a minute.”

“You’re welcome,” Poison Kiss said flatly.

“Considering the tactical situation when I emerged from the command center, I’d say that you should be thanking me,” Chrysalis said, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “But I’ll let it go this time. We are on the same side… aren’t we?” She suddenly tossed the dismantled tank to the side, and Kiss yelped in fright as the multi-ton hunk of battered armor landed barely a foot away from her.

Shifty grimaced as she sensed the other mares glaring at her. “She IS an ally, though… and quite important to the Iron Warriors. It’s not like I’m the one who gave you your orders.”

“Important enough to the Iron Warriors for them to send help, but not important enough to warrant better than the C-list ponies. I’m a little insulted, frankly.” Chrysalis started to glow as she delivered her quips, the massive body of the Defiler evaporating into a cyclone of sparkling green lights.

“C-list? You should try out a punch from these power hooves before you rate ‘em,” Steely growled.

“Pipe down, you rabid lunatic,” Chrysalis snapped, walking up to Poison Kiss. By now she had completely returned to her true form, although she walked with a slight limp and one of the holes in her hind leg was bigger and more ragged than the others. “Those helmets have communications devices in them, yes? Inform the Iron Warriors that I require a new target. I could just wander around on my own killing humans as I please, of course, but if I accidentally wandered out of the war zone I could get stranded planetside while the army moves on.”

“We’d be positively gutted if something like that were to happen to you,” Kiss deadpanned before opening her vox channel. “This is Phage Squadron to command. I think the command center’s a loss but it wasn’t a complete cock up. The shifter is fine.”

“Excellent,” growled a voice on the other end, “establishing guidance signum now. Escort the Queen to the hive periphery indicated for shuttle exfiltration; we’ve destroyed the anti-air defenses on that side. You may go with her and rejoin the fleet if you wish.”

“Think we’ll take you up on that, guv. Our armor’s a shambles and Breezy can’t even fly anymore,” Kiss said, heaving a sigh.

“What? What are they saying?” Chrysalis demanded, only being able to hear Kiss’s side of the conversation.

“We’re all heading back into orbit, Queenie. And not a moment too soon, thank Nurgle!”

“We are? Why?” Chrysalis asked hotly, slightly surprising the ponies. “I don’t want to leave yet! I’ve only gotten to use a few of the warforms so far and I didn’t get a chance to find any lovers to snack on!”

Kiss grunted in disgust. “You catch that, command? The Queen of the Changelings hasn’t had enough fun yet, apparently.”

“Neither have I, actually. I could go for a few more convoy ambushes,” Steely volunteered.

“The withdrawal order came from Warsmith Solon himself,” barked the voice on Kiss’s vox link. “Inform the Queen that she will be leaving the hive in the hour, or she will not be leaving it at all.” The vox link was cut, and then a directional indicator flickered into place on Kiss’s damaged visor.

“Sorry Queenie: looks like you’re coming with us. If it’s any consolation, I’m right miffed about having to accompany you in order to get off this rock.”

“That IS a small comfort, yes,” Chrysalis admitted.

Then Kiss looked up at Steely Lathe. “As for you, I was given the strong impression that they don’t care what happens to us, so you should feel free to bugger off.”

“Leaving now!” the Khornate shouted exuberantly, already in the air. She soared over the barrier wall and into the streets without so much as a glance back at the others.

“And as for you,” Kiss began, turning around. Then she hesitated and turned some more. Then she kept turning until she was facing Chrysalis again, her head scanning back and forth. “All right, where the hay did Shifty go?”

“She poofed out when you started talking to the Iron Warriors,” Rot Blossom grumbled.

“Keen. Just absolutely bomb. Bloody Tzeentchian freak,” Kiss snarled before trudging toward the street. “Everypony keep your heads down; there are still a lot of militia crawling around these towers. We won’t be safe until we reach the primary assault force. They’re just a few blocks from here.”

“Can’t we just wait until they arrive?” Chrysalis asked, sitting down on her haunches.

“Warsmith’s orders, Queenie. That means it’s important,” Kiss insisted, walking toward the others. “They want you out of the hive in the hour.”

“Tch! Fine, then. Maybe he has some other interesting job for me,” Chrysalis mumbled, moving to follow.

“Sounds like servitude is starting to agree with you,” Breezy quipped. “Good.”

Chrysalis offered her a disdainful stare as the group trotted back out onto the streets. “It… hasn’t been all bad,” she admitted with a sniff. “I suppose there are worse prices for power. Like being turned into a disgusting lump of parasite-riddled fur and tumors.”

“Hey! I don’t have any tumors! Those are egg sacs!” Rot Blossom complained.

Chrysalis winced and took a few steps further away. “That’s not better, you know.”

“Why are you so judgey, anyway? Aren’t you an insect? Or part insect, at least?” Breezy asked.

“Aren’t you all mammals? Why don’t you ponies scurry around eating garbage like rats?” Chrysalis asked sarcastically. “I don’t inject my eggs into people so my larval young can feast on their blood and body fat, and I look down on the revolting creatures who do. It’s as simple as that.” She shuddered at the thought. “Although if you ask me, all material digestion is gross.”

“We didn't ask you,” Blossom griped. Then she almost stumbled into Kiss’s backside when the unicorn stopped.

“Wait... up there! Take cover!” Kiss shouted suddenly, jumping behind a empty munitions crate.

The others scattered, and a string of lasblasts cut across the streets from one of the windows above. The fire was sparse and not particularly accurate, and when Chrysalis glared up at the source the shooters quickly ducked back behind their hab window.

“Well, I DID say I wanted to fight a little more before we left,” the Changeling Queen chuckled as her body began to swell. An aura of green magic surrounded her, growing to more than ten times her usual bulk, and strings of emerald light emerged from her sides and wrapped together to form massive cylinders. Sparks of similar color shot out of her form seemingly at random and curved sharply back into her torso or limbs, leaving behind power cables and wire bundles. Spikes jutted from her back, and the strands of hair that made up her tail thickened into loose tubing.

“Come out, little human! You missed me the first time! Don’t you want another try?” Chrysalis cackled as her massive Forgefiend body stepped out onto the street. The heavy rotary autocannons on each arm aimed at a window on each side of the street, and a ferocious rumble came from the weapons as they started to spin up. “Come with me, ponies! Let’s play a little before we leave for good!”

“Remind me again why we have to escort her,” Breezy said right before a barrage of Warp-fueled shot ripped into the hab towers.

“Don’t let the big guns fool you, Breeze. If I hadn’t said anything earlier, she’d already have some new holes in her face.” Kiss levitated her boltgun off her back and pushed in a new clip of ammunition. “Stay together and keep your distance from the shifter. Besides the explosive radius of most anti-tank munitions, she’ll probably step on you for a chuckle if you wander close. Tally ho!”

Harvest of Steel
Launch hangar Theta
(20 hours later)

“Whoa, Nelly! Ah don’t know if Ah like the sound o’this, Twi.”

“What’s the problem? I think it’s great! We get to go to an alien planet after all! And not the lame hive world where all the regular schmoes live, but the capital world!”

“I think that’s the main concern, darling. At least insofar as this capital world is defended by an army so powerful the Iron Warriors won’t consider fighting it.”

“But, uhm, we don’t have to fight them, right? We don’t need to fight anyone on this mission, I thought.”

“Yeah, but that’s what they said about the LAST mission, too. Ah ain’t buyin’ it. And fer what? Some kinda crazy dream?”

“It wasn’t a… well, all right, I’m not going to contest that description, but I think I’ve more than justified my case that it wasn’t JUST a dream. There’s definitely something down there!”

“Ah believe ya, Twi. Mah problem is that ya don’t rightly know WHAT.”

Equinought Squadron was gathered on a balcony platform overlooking the gunship launch hangar, discussing their upcoming mission in a loose circle. They had all been properly treated and well-rested, but Applejack still had several patches in place over her nano-stitches and Rainbow Dash sported a plated band over her head that was supposed to deflect further impacts to her skull away from that particular point. They all wore their power armor, sans helmets, and Pinkie Pie sat on the shoulder of her Dreadnought while it loomed over the rest of the mares.

“I ran it by Solon and Serith, and Solon thought the mission was completely viable! Serith did too, but he’s convinced it isn’t worth it,” Twilight said, grimacing at the end.

“I’m still surprised that he and Trixie wanted to come along,” Fluttershy admitted.

“Well, actually, he didn’t. But Trixie did, so he agreed anyway,” Twilight sighed. “As for Trixie’s motivations, I think they’re similar to Dash’s. It just seems like a more unique and exotic experience than gunning down militia in heavy urban combat.”

“Although I was totally up for that, too,” Rainbow Dash reminded her.

“Yes darling, we understand. You don’t much like being cooped up in the ship, do you?” Rarity asked wryly.

“It’s pretty boring in here, yeah. You know, for a giant mechanical daemon.”

“Can we focus, ponies?” Applejack asked. “Ah’m still tryin’ to wrap mah head around what we’re doin’. This’s a rescue but also a recovery mission?”

“Yes. Probably. Like we already… discussed, we don’t have a great deal of intelligence from the ground aside from the capital hive itself. Based on the communication – which was a dream, I admit – I expect there to be at least one refugee in somewhat imminent danger and at least one inexplicable space artifact,” Twilight explained. “Obviously, the situation could be worse than that. We could have hundreds of refugees, not one. The artifact could be some sort of… I don’t know, a space bomb or something. But we have a plan for some of these eventualities, and I do expect this will be a safer mission than helping out on Gessheim 4, at least.”

“What’re we rescuing this guy from? Any idea?” Applejack asked.

“The Imperium of Man has an extensive list of crimes, minor and major, that would result in brutal torture or summary execution. They’ll kill people for heresy, protest, or failure. Mostly that first one, as I understand. They take their religion very seriously, and as I understand it that religion demands fervent worship of a bizarrely powerful dead man back on their home planet. This generates a lot of rebels and exiles, which is where the Chaos fleets usually get their people from,” Twilight explained. “I don’t know exactly what this person or people did, of course, but he seemed pretty sure he was in imminent danger.”

“So we’re saving him from the Space Police, are we?” Pinkie asked, rubbing a hoof against her chin. “Some poor sap found himself on the wrong side of the Space Law, and now his only hope is a band of rugged pony bandits to escape the orbital slammer! But is this some unlucky Emperor-doubter who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, or is this a refugee from his just desserts?”

“That… is… probably as good an explanation as any I could come up with,” Twilight admitted. “So, sure. Space Police.”

“I can’t imagine why the Warsmith would want to send us on a mission like this, but I suppose there’s no better team to conduct a mission of mercy in this fleet,” Rarity said. “Speaking of which, let’s NOT bring Tellis along this time.” She cast a meaningful look over at Rainbow Dash.

“Hey, it’s not like I invited him on the boarding mission! I only told him about it before we left so that he wouldn’t spend the entire assault looking for us all over Eschel!” Rainbow retorted. “But yeah, I get it. This really doesn’t seem like his kind of thing.”

“Are you prepared? We are ready for deployment.”

The mares turned to look after a gruff voice addressed them from the hangar entrance. Dest was approaching the platform, and Trixie was following behind him. The magician was wearing her power armor as expected, with her hat placed over her helmet and her cape hanging over the suit’s back and obscuring the cannon mounted on her side. Dest was focused on Equinought Squadron, but Trixie looked distracted, searching the hangar for something. Suuna followed behind them, looking somewhat bewildered; the former slave rarely left the hab deck where Trixie lived, and it was surely a surprise to her that she was being brought along on a mission.

“Yes, I think we’re ready,” Twilight replied, glancing down at the Thunderhawk below their balcony. It was painted in silver and gold like all the Iron Warriors’ vehicles, but rather than the spikes and chains that embellished the other assault craft this one bristled with sensor fins and bowl-shaped protrusions that her augmetic marked out as “refractor arrays.”

“I don’t see Serith. Is he already aboard?” Trixie asked.

“Naw, he ain’t here yet. We’re still runnin’ a little early though,” Applejack explained.

“Once we find an acceptable landing point, I will remain there until your task is complete,” Dest said. “While I would prefer to accompany you further, the Thunderhawk cannot remained cloaked indefinitely and cannot be left alone to be stumbled upon by Imperial strike teams. It is the Warsmith’s personal transport, after all. As well as your primary method of withdrawal.”

“So you’ll be waiting outside while we find this person, and then we simply lead them back out along with this mysterious artifact?” Rarity asked. “It can’t possibly be that simple, can it?”

“Well not with THAT attitude!” Pinkie laughed.

Dest chuckled along with her, and then quickly sobered. “There will likely be complications. It is my understanding that Sparkle has taken some precautions…”

“That’s right! Watch!” Twilight had a pouch strapped to her side, and she quickly opened it up to reveal a pile of scrolls, a quill, and an ink pot.

Her horn shimmering with concentration, she quickly unpacked one such scroll and wrote the word “TEST” in giant, flowing script. Then her horn pulsed brighter, and the message vanished in a puff of violet smoke.

“It’s not the most convenient method of communication, but I suppose it has its advantages,” Dest acknowledged.

“Undetectable and unblockable!” the alicorn said proudly.

“I thought Serith could block them. Didn’t he do that before?” Rainbow asked.

“I meant besides him. Why would he block my communications with the fleet?” Twilight replied, clearly annoyed. “And he never had the nerve to do it while he was in kicking range anyway.”

An ember of green flame suddenly flickered over Twilight’s head, and then her scroll reappeared. With an expression of triumph, she caught the message with her levitation magic and unrolled it.

“Yes, fine, it works. Please don’t use it anymore unless you need it; I think your version of the spell is harder on my lungs,” Twilight read the scroll aloud and then chuckled to herself, abashed.

“Then it looks like it’s time to get this show on the road!” Rainbow jumped into the air, pointing a hoof toward the hangar entrance. “Here comes Serith! Everyone’s here!”

Suuna ducked to the side and bowed her head nervously as the Sorcerer strode up to the group. Serith’s force halberd rested over one shoulder while his free hand was wrapped in the cloak draped over his power armor, partially lifting it to keep it free of his tread. Trixie promptly moved to greet him, stepping conspicuously between the psyker and her assistant.

“Lord Serith! Trixie is pleased you made it! Fashionably late, but we haven’t departed just yet!” the magician said cheerfully.

Serith seemed to regard Trixie for a lingering moment, and then addressed the group. “My apologies, equines. Shall we depart? I am most interested to see where this endeavor takes us.”

“Pie, your Dreadnought shell will be carried in the aft cargo claw. Come with me and we’ll secure it before takeoff,” Dest said, gesturing to the vehicle below. “Everyone else may embark. We leave at once.”

“No, we won’t,” Twilight said evenly. “Not until you tell us where Serith is, Chrysalis.”

The reaction from the other ponies was to stumble to a halt and gape at Twilight in shock. Dest was more subdued, turning slightly to silently stare at the Sorcerer. Suuna straightened, looking surprised and rather relieved.

Serith himself stared down at Twilight blankly. “What game is this, mare?” he asked, and the green lights of his visor pulsed. “You cannot tell the difference between an Astartes and a changeling? Still your tongue if you don’t want it cut out.” Lightning crackled briefly between the fingers of his free hand, wrapping around each knuckle before vanishing into his palm.

Twilight seemed unimpressed, and she took a step forward while the rest of Equinought Squadron continued gawking at the confrontation. “Oh yeah? If you’re really Serith, tell me who THAT is,” she pointed an armored hoof at Suuna, who again looked distressed once everyone focused their attention on her.

Serith regarded the woman for but a moment. “Why do you test me with trifles, pony?” he scoffed. “Why would I care to know the servile rubbish that follows in Tripsy’s wake? You waste our time and my patience. If you will not join us on Ulaisse, you can stay here and explain yourself to the Warsmith. I’ll try to bring SOME of your friends back alive.”

“Wow… that was perfect!” Trixie said breathlessly. Then she added in a deadpan, “Except the name’s Trixie, not Tripsy. Good effort, though.”

“What? Really?” Chrysalis tilted her head to one side and then the other, like she was trying to get a closer view of the visor’s eye lenses. “That’s an ‘X?’ Who designed this visor font?”

Dest stepped up to the shape-shifter, and then clapped one hand onto her shoulder pad. “It is my understanding that certain individuals in the fleet possess a transmission codex that can neutralize you instantly, with no possible defense.” His grip tightened, and the claws of his gauntlet started to dig into the ceramite shielding. “Be advised that we will not need their assistance.”

“All right! All right, you win. You got me,” Chrysalis hissed. She dropped the force halberd onto the deck, and then she held her hands up at chest level. “I just wanted to go with you to the moon.”

“Why would you want that?” Rarity asked, pushing through her surprise.

“Because I don’t want to be sitting around waiting until you need me to bail you out of trouble!” she snarled. “It’s humiliating! If I’m going to babysit you pests, I should at least get to go on the mission from the start!”

“Trixie doesn’t care about your petty selfishness!” the magician shouted, slamming a boot into the floor. “How DARE you hurt someone just to get a deployment you wanted? What did you do to Serith?!”

“The Sorcerer is fine,” Chrysalis sighed. “I stuffed him in a closet just outside the hangar.”

“How could you immobilize a psyker without harming him?” Dest asked.

“I dismembered all the armor parts and stuck them in separate cocoons,” Chrysalis explained. “We can just put him back together again, right? That doesn’t count as harm.”

“RRRRRRRGH!!” Trixie howled in frustration as she galloped away to the exit.

Twilight seemed equally displeased, but Rainbow Dash gingerly tapped her on the back leg to get her attention. “Hey, uh, I know that we’re still upset at Chrysalis for… well, everything basically, but… are we sure we’d rather take Serith along?”

Twilight looked perplexed at the question. “Rainbow Dash, she just tried to infiltrate our deployment!”

“Yeah, that ain’t good, but on the other hoof she took Serith down a peg t’do it. So…” Applejack trailed off, staring at the Changeling Queen in consideration.

Chrysalis tapped a metal finger on Dest’s gauntlet. “Pardon me, my Lord. May I return to my original body? Without you decapitating me, I mean?”

Dest didn’t respond for several seconds, and then released her and stepped back. The elaborately embellished power armor he had been holding seemed to burst into bright green flames, and then fizzled away into glimmering embers. Chrysalis stood in the space within the shroud, and she shook her head to clear it.

“Oof. That one felt… off. You Astartes weirdos have a lot more unique parts than I’m used to. And THAT one is odd even by your standards,” Chrysalis complained. “Even the machines have, you know, internals. It was like turning into a balloon animal.”

“Whatever. We caught you. Go away,” Twilight said, making a shooing gesture with her boot.

“Why? I still want to come along,” the Queen said bluntly.

“Why should we trust you to join our probably-dangerous covert rescue mission?” Rarity asked, eyes narrowed.

“You’re already taking the Sorcerer, aren’t you? Am I REALLY more insidious and obnoxious than HIM?” Chrysalis scoffed.

“Oh wow that’s a pretty good point,” Pinkie mumbled, her Dreadnought twisting to stare down at Twilight.

“No, it’s NOT a good point!” the Princess protested. “She JUST tried to trick us!”

“Okay, but ya caught her right away. And Serith pulls that codswallop all the time,” Applejack pointed out.

“I’m only bringing Serith along because Solon insisted! Come on!” Twilight groaned.

“Do it for friendship, Twilight!” Fluttershy pleaded.

Twilight snapped her head around to glare at her.

Fluttershy flinched, and then green-colored magic flashed around her, leaving Chrysalis behind again. “Right. Sorry.” The real Fluttershy glared fiercely at the Changeling Queen. Quietly. From beneath her helmet. While sheltering behind the leg of Pinkie’s walker.

“I, for one, take no issue with the shape-shifter accompanying us to the landing site,” Dest interjected. “However, if Sparkle does not wish her to deploy with the rest of you, she can remain with me in the Thunderhawk until needed.”

“Ugh. BORING,” Chrysalis huffed. “I want to come along to hurt things, not just take in the alien scenery!”

“If it’s combat you desire I can accommodate you, insect scum.”

Chrysalis only paused for a moment before twisting her neck about to check behind her. Serith was standing in front of the hangar entrance, his armor dirtied extensively with small scorch marks and patches of adhesive slime. Trixie stood next to him, her helmet removed just so Chrysalis could appreciate the scowl on her face.

“Anyway,” Chrysalis continued, turning back to Twilight, “in addition to being better company and much smarter than the Sorcerer, I can also create giant guns at will! At least, I can if I find someone to unlock the seal on my power core. The Boss reset it when I got back.”

The force halberd suddenly jumped off the floor, springing into Serith’s hand. Chrysalis vanished in a cyclone of emerald fire, spinning around even while her body reformed. Serith swung his weapon into the maelstrom, his eyes flashing with eldritch power and an enraged battle cry erupting from his vox grille. The blade of the halberd struck a metal weapon haft and was parried away with such force that Serith almost lost his footing.

“Oh, you were sseriouss? Well then, I accept your offer to entertain me, pesst.” The changeling’s magic vanished, leaving behind Sliver’s hulking, armored body. His siege hammer was held loosely in one hand, while the viral scourge was already aimed at the Sorcerer.

“You mock us as your inferiors even as you steal our bodies and weapons,” Serith snarled, arcs of lightning racing over his arms. Trixie’s horn bloomed with pink light, and the fireburst launcher extended from beneath her cape.

“I mock you as my inferior, sspecifically” Chrysalis rumbled, pulling back her hammer to attack.

“HEY!! KNOCK IT OFF!!” Twilight screamed, jumping between the combatants. They stepped back in surprise, and she swung her glare back and forth from Chrysalis to Serith.

“She started it!” Trixie snapped.

“I don’t care!” Twilight snapped back, surprising the magician.

“I respect your wish to de-escalate this encounter, Lady Sparkle,” Serith said, not dropping his combat pose, “but you do not command-“

A pulse of telekinetic energy struck the Sorcerer in the forehead, pitching Serith’s head right off his neck and blasting it across the room. Trixie yelped and scrambled to chase after it. Chrysalis started laughing, but a second later Twilight whipped back around toward her, the light of her augmetic eye pulsing brightly.

“SHUT IT!! You think you can stroll around the Iron Warriors’ own ship ambushing them as you want and replacing them?! And then when you’re caught you try to FIGHT to get your way?! Do you have ANY IDEA how close you are to being snuffed out like a candle flame right now?!”

Chrysalis took another step back, hesitating. It was an absolutely comical sight to see Sliver, the form that all the ponies identified with absolute authority, nervously falter before the diminutive alicorn. The other mares watched with intense interest, and Pinkie had pulled a bucket of movie popcorn out of the interior of her Dreadnought.

“… Perhaps I was a bit too impetuous,” Chrysalis said, returning to her true body and regular voice.

Twilight waited until the changeling had completely reverted to her natural body, and then she thrust a boot toward the hangar. “Get in the Thunderhawk. You’ll sit with Dest and wait for us until ordered otherwise and you will be on your BEST BEHAVIOR the entire time or Celestia help me I will hurl you into space. IS THAT CLEAR, Chrysalis?”

Chrysalis didn’t answer right away, but eventually gave a small, silent nod. Then she turned and walked up to Dest.

“I guess I’m your co-pilot, then,” the Changeling Queen mumbled.

Dest chuckled lightly and led her to the stairs down from the platform. “It couldn’t make my flying any worse. And it would be nice to have someone to talk to since we must maintain vox silence.” After a few seconds, he suddenly added. “No, you DON’T count,” without looking at anyone in particular.

Twilight turned to face Serith and Trixie. The former was fixing his helmet back in place, silently working at the seals around the gorget. Trixie had found an oil rag and was cleaning more spots of adhesive gunk off of the Sorcerer’s armor, but kept glancing back at Twilight anxiously.

“Are you ready to go?” the young Princess asked.

A clicking noise came from Serith’s armor, and he looked down at the armored alicorn. “… I am. Shall we depart, then?”

“After you,” Twilight insisted.

With a slight bow of his helmet, Serith strode toward the stairs. Trixie followed, and Suuna trailed behind them with a small, inscrutable smile on her face.

"Honestly. It's like foalsitting rowdy colts." Twilight sighed wearily once both Iron Warriors were out of sight, and then a heavy ceramite boot was placed against her shoulder.

“Ya did good, Twilight,” Applejack said with a beaming smile.

“And I must say, your precision telekinetics were delightful! Such fine control and angling!” Rarity chirped.

“You got Chrysalis to back down! That was awesome!” Rainbow Dash laughed.

Twilight flushed and chuckled weakly. “Thanks, girls.”

“You’re welcome! Now let’s go save some heretics! Or whatever!” Rainbow cheered, jumping into the air and diving toward their transport.

“Yes!” Twilight said firmly before slipping her helmet on over head. “Ulaisse awaits!”

Author's Note

Sorry! Sorry! Still alive, still working!
Steely Lathe is from Steely Hearts, a sadly defunct side-story by Nothing_to_see_here
Feels kind of tedious to center a chapter around side characters at this point; hope it was more fun to read than it was to write.

Ulaisse

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 6
Ulaisse

Thunderhawk Unit 6

“Ulaisse’s primary hive structure is here: the hive city complex Adrast. It’s a massive military and governance structure used to train and house the system’s main army and service its war machines, as well as providing extravagant services and living space for the system’s elite. In the center of the hive is the Governor’s palace, which sits atop the delta spire. The spire, and the vaults in the understructure, maintains all the machinery, personnel, and records necessary to administer the rest of the Gessheim system. The hive exterior is protected by a series of palisade walls, with the outermost rings hosting much of the military facilities. Launch facilities host thousands of trans-atmospheric aerial craft, and at any time the capital hosts at least two MILLION troops ready for rapid deployment. It’s no wonder the Iron Warriors don’t want to take a shot at this place.”

Twilight sat in front of a small tactical hololith glittering with shifting data screed. The other ponies of Equinought Squadron watched with varying degrees of fascination; Rarity looked entranced, while Rainbow Dash was constantly glancing about the cabin impatiently. Serith sat at the far side of the transportation bay, perusing the tome he carried on his person at all times.

“On the contrary, I’m sure there are many Iron Warriors that dearly wish to try an assault on such a bastion.” Serith didn’t look up from his book as he spoke. “The Warsmiths of other armies pride themselves on defeating the mightiest of enemy defenses. It is our Company alone of the Iron Warriors that hesitates in the face of these bulwarks. Not out of cowardice, granted; such efforts are simply too inefficient.”

Twilight waited politely for him to finish, and then adjusted the hololith to zoom in on a particular section of the outer ring of the city. “Here’s the engine yards. We don’t have a good picture of the interior from our intelligence because of the classification level, but this is where they keep the Titans.”

“Those’re like the human version o’ Gargants, right?” Applejack asked.

“Exactly! Super-heavy war machines the size of buildings, with large enough weapons and heavy enough armor to defeat any conventional battlefield threat. You might remember seeing them in the background during some of our training matches,” Twilight continued. “Really, with the sheer degree of grounded military power Ulaisse has, we’re very lucky they don’t have a more substantial system patrol fleet. Our troops would be in trouble if they could reinforce the other planets.”

“But instead all those soldiers are stuck on the system Capital. Where we’re going,” Rarity sighed. “I don’t suppose there’s anything to know about this world other than the obscenely large military, is there?”

“Yes, actually!” Twilight adjusted the hololith again, zooming out until the hive city was a small cylinder in the middle of the projection. “As the rest of the planet has been mostly abandoned as far as heavy development is concerned, there’s a number of paradise resorts, wilderness training parks, and private forest villas that surround the hive and stretch out into the surrounding areas. These places are unfortified, but easy to abandon quickly to an invading force. Judging from some of the materials we found on Eschel, they also host quite a few smuggling routes, what with the vast degree of wealth and the distinct lack of the kind of heavy security one finds in the hive city.”

“What does ANY of this have to do with our mission?” Trixie demanded, fighting back a yawn.

“Well… nothing. Probably,” Twilight admitted. “But we have a lot of time until we land, so I thought it would be best to go over the world’s profile. You never know!”

“It’d be nice if we had anythin’ on the place we’re goin’ rather than the cities,” Applejack grunted.

“It would. But the station logs we’ve ripped so far didn’t have any information on the abandoned hive construction on Ulaisse. They didn’t even seem to acknowledge they’re there. Unhelpful, although I’m glad there’s so little attention paid to the ruins if we’re headed in there.” Twilight tapped the hololith, shifting the view from one section of Adrast to the next. “The only other thing that came up that I think we should be wary of is a minor Ork presence on Ulaisse. Thanks to the occasional invasions, the military forces on the moon have to do constant patrols and search & destroy missions to annihilate any Orks they can find before they can form a substantial warband. It makes for good training, apparently.”

“Ugh…” Rainbow Dash was facing the wall of the hold, her forehead pressed up against the plating and her ears flattened miserably. “Why is this taking so LONG? We’ve been flying for hours and we’re not even in orbit yet!”

“It’s a long distance, darling,” Rarity reassured her. “The fleet can’t get close to the moon because of its weapons, so we had to take off quite a ways out.”

“Lady Rarity is correct,” Serith said, turning a page in his book. “In addition, the vehicle is cloaked. This is critical to infiltrate the enemy airspace. The engine heat from an increased acceleration would give us away to enemy augurs. We must approach slowly and carefully.”

Rainbow Dash groaned and slumped onto the floor, her power armor clattering loudly.

“Trixie understands the circumstances, but do we have anything more interesting to do than sit through a history lesson of a fantastic city we won’t get to see without being swiftly executed afterward?”

“T’be honest, Ah was half expectin’ a fight to break out on the way,” Applejack mumbled, glancing at the door to the cockpit. “Chrysalis has been mighty quiet…”

Pinkie suddenly gasped, jumping to her hooves. “What if she’s webbed Desty and turned into him behind our backs?!” she shouted, looking enraged at the very idea.

A click came from the compartment’s vox panel. “I can hear you, you know,” the Changeling Queen drawled.

“Did you web Desty?!” Pinkie demanded angrily.

“Do you think I want to be responsible for piloting this machine into enemy territory and landing it in the middle of nowhere, that may or may not be some kind of arcane trap, without crashing?” Chrysalis spat through the vox.

“…… Yes? That sounds like a lot of fun. I’d probably do that if I were you,” Pinkie admitted.

“Idiot,” Chrysalis snapped before her horn flashed. A spark of green flipped the switch on the vox console, cutting off the connection to the cockpit.

Dest had one hand on the steering joystick of the Thunderhawk’s controls, and he glanced at the changeling for a few long seconds before shifting his line of sight back to the cockpit’s view screen. “Putting her overactive imagination aside, you have been surprisingly docile since we took off.”

Chrysalis hissed and flicked her long tongue between her fangs in irritation. She didn’t like the term “docile.” She didn’t answer right away, though, staring out the window into space.

“… I have much to think about. And this view is somewhat… calming.”

Ulaisse loomed large ahead of the Thunderhawk. A shining green pearl marred in one spot by a protrusion of gray spines. The hive city Adrast rose high above the surrounding forest and jungle – visible even from the outermost loops of high orbit – as a massive gray bump, like a cyst full of humanity and weapons. It was a fascinating sight, and Chrysalis hadn’t been able to see into space on her approach to or departure from Eschel.

Finally, she turned back to the Iron Warrior. “Are you all afraid that I’ll suddenly turn on you?”

“Suddenly? You turned on us today, before we left the flagship,” Dest scoffed. “I do not expect it to be the last time.”

“That didn’t count,” Chrysalis retorted. “I was just trying to join you!”

“You could have just asked. Instead you plotted to deceive us. You were not punished for this, so you’ll try again,” Dest explained.

Chrysalis narrowed her eyes. “If you assume that’s true, you seem very… relaxed about it.”

“The Chaos Space Marines are not new to treachery, Queen. Should your deceptions prove to be more trouble than you’re worth, we will exterminate you. Your fate does not worry us.”

Chrysalis frowned at the Iron Warrior silently for several seconds. “Are there… two of you?” she asked, dropping the previous topic entirely. “What I mean is-“

“I know what you mean,” Dest interrupted. “And yes, there are two of me. Say hi, Vel.”

“I can’t hear it,” Chrysalis clarified. “It’s more like… I can taste it.”

Eew, gross. Don’t let her eat me, okay?

“You Astartes are like a desert,” Chrysalis continued. “Not quite empty, but nearly featureless and prone to extremes. Your hearts are barren, and you only seem to feel emotions in sudden, ferocious bursts. The… thing inside you is different. Colorful. Vibrant. It’s like a string of festive decoration coiled around a plain steel pole.”

“You have quite a gift for simile,” Dest grunted.

“When one of my Guardians returned to the hive, she had been infected by your foul magic and given over to a Chaos God,” Chrysalis said, her voice carefully neutral in tone. “She was taken by some sort of fevered hysteria and her spirit consumed by something within. Is that what this ‘Vel’ is?”

“I cannot say without having met this creature, but I would guess not. Was she taken back to Ferrous Dominus after we seized your hive complex?”

“Not unless you scraped the puddle of muck that was left of her out of the trash pits,” Chrysalis sniffed. “Which you might have, for all I know. Those tech-weirdoes will poke at anything that looks funny.”

Dest glanced up, and then his hand suddenly grabbed for the acceleration lever and pulled back. The retro jets of the Thunderhawk flashed, and the hull trembled gently as the gunship was brought to a near-complete stop. The inertial dampeners had little difficulty with the maneuver, but Chrysalis still lurched forward in her seat.

“What was that about?” she asked, looking annoyed.

Dest pointed out the cockpit window. “There. See that light?”

A glowing red bracket appeared over the spot he was pointing to. Chrysalis spotted what he meant immediately: a small, dim light ahead of the gunship that was blinking on and off, like a firefly that was slowly dying in the void. It obviously wasn’t a star; aside from the blinking, it stood directly between the Thunderhawk and Ulaisse, which is one reason it had been hard to spot. It was attached to something, but at the current distance and against the backdrop of the moon it was an indistinct dark splotch.

“I see it. What is it?”

“An orbital mine. Small charge, simple camouflage,” Dest grumbled, flicking a few switches on the controls. “Not big enough to harm capital ships, but harder to detect and capable of crushing a gunship that doesn’t notice.”

“But… you did notice, right? So we’re fine?” Chrysalis asked.

Dest didn’t respond, working furiously at the controls. Multiple menus and lines of data-screed appeared on the cockpit screen, and after a few seconds a bright green line swept over the entire view of space. In its wake, the mines that were all but invisible to the naked eye were picked out and boxed in red, each one tagged for their distance from the Thunderhawk’s hull.

There were a LOT of red boxes.

“This is… unfortunate,” Dest mumbled.

The vox crackled, and Twilight Sparkle’s voice came from the caster. “Is everything okay? It feels like we stopped.”

“There is a minefield protecting our approach vector,” Dest said bluntly. “One misstep and the transport will be crippled, at best.”

“A minefield?” Twilight’s voice went silent for several seconds. “There’s nothing in the stratagem logs about a minefield! Where did this come from?”

“Perhaps it’s a secret. Perhaps it’s new. It hardly matters now.”

“We’re not turning back, are we?” Rainbow Dash chimed in. “PLEASE tell me we’re not chickening out now when we’re almost there!”

“We can navigate the minefield. Now stop your prattling,” Dest commanded, switching off the vox connection. Then he turned to look at Chrysalis. “The unicorns possess a means of telekinetically moving distant objects. Can you do this as well?”

“You mean levitation? Yes. Why?” Chrysalis asked, arcing an eyebrow.

“Use it to shift the mines ahead of us out of our path,” Dest said, gently pushing up on the throttle lever. “Be careful. I am uncertain how sensitive their trigger mechanisms are.”

Chrysalis stood up in her seat, bracing her forelegs against the control panels of the Thunderhawk. The twisted, notch-riddled horn atop her head started glowing, and the nearest visible mine was wrapped in an aura of bright green. With the magic aura it was much easier to see the explosive: a box-shaped charge with a spike protruding from each corner, one of which had a blinking lumen on the end. The mine was painted black, and was about the size of a supply crate.

“… There.” Chrysalis shifted the mine to the right, and then released her magic. The red brackets followed the explosive as it floated away and out of view. “A little closer and I can move the next one. How many do you think there are between us and the landing site?”

“Perhaps a dozen, likely fewer. Mining orbital disks requires vast numbers of charges to offer any real protection, and excessive redundancy can generate problems. These are low-orbit, too. We’re not far from the upper atmosphere.”

Chrysalis didn’t completely understand, but she focused on the next mine. She shoved this one a little further through the void, adding a slight spin to the explosive before searching for the next-closest hazard.

“You can speed up a little,” Chrysalis mumbled. “It’s too far away and at this rate-“

A flash of light suddenly came from the side of the cockpit, and then the gunship lurched violently to the side. Chrysalis was thrown from her seat and slammed into Dest’s side; an experience that was all the more painful for the sharp ridges and spikes that decorated his armor. The sounds of other metallic impacts came from the transport bay, and damage warnings bloomed over the system display.

Dest merely grunted and shoved the groaning changeling away before righting his course. “We have exterior damage, but engines remain functional! No signs of a hull breach,” he barked. A claw mounted on his shoulder whipped forward, tapping the button on the interior vox. “Status report!”

A series of agonized groans came from the vox.

“Head… hurt… bells… in skull…” Rainbow said weakly.

“Ah’m fine, but somebody lost an arm. Ah think Ah can guess who.” Applejack’s voice was followed by a clanking noise.

“Serith, is something wrong with your armor seals? Trixie doesn’t remember you being quite so fragile before.”

“Now that one of my peers has taken to disassembling me for fun they have been suffering more wear than usual, yes,” Serith griped.

“What happened anyway? Did we hit a mine?” Twilight asked anxiously.

“We did not hit one, no. A mine DID detonate, however, and we were within its extended area of effect.” Dest turned to glower at Chrysalis.

“What? This wasn’t my fault!” the Changeling Queen protested.

“You pushed a mine directly into another mine,” Dest explained, his voice grim. “Their combined detonations were thankfully not enough to cripple us from here, but had we been slightly closer…”

“You didn’t tell me I had to watch where I was pushing them!”

“I told you to be CAREFUL, insect! You’re handling high explosives, not inert void debris!”

The cockpit door beeped, and then it slid open. “All right, cut it out! No fighting!” Twilight said, stepping in. “Chrysalis, swap with me. I’ll move the rest of the mines.”

“Swap? Why? I can still do it!” the Changeling Queen huffed.

“Please stop yelling, it makes the bells hurt louder,” Rainbow begged.

Twilight stared evenly at Chrysalis without another word. Chrysalis only held her indignant stance for a few seconds before she rolled her eyes and stepped down from the co-pilot’s chair.

“Fine, do what you want. No chitin off my back,” she stepped around the armored alicorn and into the passenger bay.

Twilight hopped up into the seat, her horn already glowing purple. Dest slammed a fist onto the door control, sealing the entrance behind the changeling.

The passenger compartment was quite a mess, having only just recovered from the explosion. Fluttershy stood over Rainbow Dash, tenderly wiping the other pegasus with a cloth. Rarity was vigorously trying to buff out a scratch in her helmet that it had suffered during the turbulence. Serith was quietly reattaching his leg with Trixie’s help, the unicorn securing the joint with leather straps. Suuna was unscathed, thanks to having actually used the flight harness to secure herself for the entire trip, and was hugging Pinkie tightly while the bubblegum-colored pony purred like a cat. Applejack laid calmly on the floor, her eyes quietly following Chrysalis. She looked completely undisturbed, but the large dents in the bench and wall next to her suggested that her tumble had been more destructive than anyone else’s.

“This mission is off to a fantastic start,” the Changeling Queen quipped while she strolled past the strategic hololith. “These Imperial humans are fools, but they always find ways to annoy me.”

“The Imperium of Man is an old power, its militaries grown fat and negligent and its populace stupid and desperate,” Serith grumbled, stamping one boot on the floor to see if it was secure, “but it is not weak. Trick them, hound them, drive the dagger into their back as you will, but the moment you take your boot from their necks the Imperial dogs will strike back in a zealous rage.”

“I imagine that’s a lesson you pirates have learned the hard way,” Chrysalis said with a smirk.

“Indeed it is. We attack where the foe’s defenses are weakest, scouring their data nodes constantly for major deployments and recent wars. We seize their workers, scatter their armies, and crush their fleets, but it is never enough. There are always more to avenge their fallen. Such is the nature of the Long War.”

Chrysalis walked to the bench opposite Serith and sat down in front of it. “Why do you do it? All this fighting, I mean? I could understand if you were trying to steal for your own benefit and survival, but as I understand it you do it just to give all the spoils to some OTHER army. What’s the point?”

“My own contributions to the Company are, in fact, made primarily for my own survival and benefit,” Serith assured her. “But as to our collective warfare efforts… it’s a long story. The tensions within the Imperium of Man are ancient and the scars run deep. Your kind are mortal; you have no sensible reference to comprehend ten thousand years of brutal attrition and warfare.”

Chrysalis quirked an eyebrow. “Mortal? What makes you think I’m mortal?”

“I’ve no idea whether your kind perish of natural means,” Serith admitted. “It matters little. Given your recent behavior and ever-more-dangerous missions your demise will be quite unnatural, and very soon.”

“Hey! What did Twilight say?” Rarity interjected before Chrysalis could reply. “No fighting! Don’t make me go get her!”

Chrysalis and Serith both turned their heads toward the unicorn silently, staring at her stern, adorable pout. Then they turned back toward each other.

“Does it ever get tiresome being bossed about and shrieked at by these clueless equines?” Chrysalis asked.

“Oh, Gods yes,” Serith answered. “Lady Trixie isn’t so bad, but the rest of the ponies are simply exhausting to tolerate.” He reached a hand over to said unicorn, carefully scratching behind her ear with a single metal finger. “To return to your original query, however, the Long War also has to do in part to our service to the Dark Gods. The Imperium of Man is a feasting ground for the powers of Chaos, offering potential recruits, resources, and sport beyond measure. Indeed, there are no other bastions of mortality both so rich and so vulnerable to the Gods’ predations.”

“And you obey these ‘gods?’ Why?” Chrysalis asked, sneering. “What do they offer you that makes this laboring worthwhile? Why do they matter?”

“What’re you so riled up about?” Applejack interrupted, staring suspiciously at the Changeling Queen. “Soon as the Warsmith gave ya some extra Warp juice and promised to help the rest of yer hive ya’ll were happy to sign on. Ain’t it the same thing?”

“Is it?” Chrysalis asked, her voice low and almost accusatory. “We sold our futures to the Iron Warriors in exchange for survival, yes, but that survival is mutual. We live and fight alongside them. These… ‘gods’ or whatever, as I understand it they watch you all fight from their twisted dimension and suck up your souls when you lose. Sometimes they help, sometimes they don’t, and whether your worlds get conquered or destroyed they shrug it off and move on to the next batch of slaves. It’s all a big, never-ending game to them, isn’t it?”

“That is a simplification of our relationship with the Dark Gods,” Serith said, “but you get the gist of it, I suppose. They are gods, and we are not. We can aspire to be more in their service, ascend even to immortal daemonhood, but even then we are mere playthings to them.”

“Trixie thinks you’re just scared at the prospect of having a master you can’t stab in the back,” the magician said, smirking at Chrysalis while leaning into Serith’s ear-scratches. “What do you know about gods anyway?”

Chrysalis glared at her. “I spoke to them. While in the Nethalican I touched the Dark Portal.”

“Barely,” Applejack scoffed. “And ya were only in there fer a few seconds.”

Chrysalis looked like she was going to snap at the farmer, but then hissed and looked away. “I don’t know how long it was. I can only remember bits and pieces of it, honestly. But the things I saw…”

“Time has little meaning in the Warp,” Serith volunteered, “you may have spent hours or days from your perspective being tormented by images and voices beyond comprehension. And to emerge from such insanity only to find your chest cavity had been obliterated… well, it’s no wonder your mind hasn’t fully retained the experience.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Chrysalis spat, her lip curling to expose her needle-sharp teeth. “How can you WORSHIP something like that? It’s… It’s not even evil, really, just… crazy.”

“Why did you sneak into our temple?” Serith suddenly asked.

“What kind of question is that? Because it was a spigot of unlimited energy, obviously,” the changeling replied.

“You are quite fortunate to be able to use that power so easily, Queen. But if it required an oath of fealty and some measure of zealous ritual devotion, would you have discarded it and moved on? Recent experience suggests otherwise.”

“There’s a big difference between serving the smelly clowns that run your fleet and the wretched Warp-things that keep trying to burrow into reality from their insane nightmare dimension,” Chrysalis insisted again. “Nurgle infected one of my children, turned her into a hideous freak, had her slay a dozen changelings, and splattered her toxic ooze all over my throne chamber. I will never forgive that thing.”

“We invaded your hive, crushed all its defenders, slew most of your people and enslaved the rest,” Serith pointed out.

“War is war. I started a fight and you retaliated. And I can’t say I came out the worst for it, either,” she held a twisted hoof against the ruby core glimmering in her chest. “I would rather face an entire army of you fanatical apes than have my children infested and brainwashed by those monsters.”

“Fair enough. The heralds of Nurgle do make for particularly disturbing confrontations,” Serith admitted, finally lifting his hand from Trixie’s ears and leaning forward on his seat, “but I assure you, Queen: We may not be Gods or daemons… but we are monsters.”

The discussion might have gone on longer, but the door to the cockpit suddenly beeped and shifted open. Twilight stepped out, glanced back and forth, and then nodded.

“Okay, we’re through the orbital mines. Dest says there should be no other obstacles between us and the surface. It’s almost time!”

“Yes! Time for whatever it is we’re here to do!” Pinkie Pie bellowed, jumping off of Suuna’s lap and posing heroically.

“Finally! The waiting was almost as bad as the head injury!” Rainbow Dash complained. Fluttershy gave a tender pat to the new bandage, and then backed away so that the other pegasus could engage her helmet.

“What’s the plan when we get down there? Like, where do we go?” Applejack asked.

“The target is almost certainly in hiding within the old, abandoned construction where we’re landing. Solon said the tunnels can be quite extensive, and hive cities usually don’t have the troops to patrol their OWN underhives. We’ll search for an entrance, and then advance as deep as we can looking for any traces of habitation.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Pinkie chirped.

“And I just sit here with the pilot, hm?” Chrysalis mumbled.

“As long as you don’t follow us and don’t give away Dest’s position, I don’t care what you do,” Twilight admitted. “Take a nap, wander off into the forest, make up a game where you turn into various crew members and make Dest guess them. You wanted to come with us so badly you were willing to fight Serith for it, so enjoy, I guess.”

The Thunderhawk started to shake, and then the dampeners adjusted themselves to compensate for re-entry. The vox crackled, and Dest’s voice entered the passenger compartment.

“The cloaking field is fully engaged. We will be landing soon. Secure yourselves before the gravity plating is deactivated.”

The ponies with armor simply activated the mag-lock function of their greaves, adhering them tightly to the floor. Pinkie Pie sat next to Suuna, and the former slave quietly secured the mare within a safety harness from above. The harness was more of a cage than a restraint to a pony; the bars were sized for Space Marines in full armor, and bore numerous nicks and dents from having to fit over the various spines and blades that decorated their combat suits. Still, it would be enough to keep the mare tumbling freely off the bench. Chrysalis didn’t quite know what to do, so she found a hook hanging by a chain above her and stuck it through one of the holes in her forelegs.

Twilight went back to studying the hololith while the gunship descended into the atmosphere, scrolling the image view from region to region and memorizing the names and features.

After about ten minutes, the vox came on again. “Be on alert. We have an enemy patrol incoming.”

The equines nearly jumped in surprise. “What? How?! Ah thought we were invisible!”

“Relax,” Dest replied. “We are indeed cloaked. However, our atmospheric entry may have generated disturbances that are detectable to sufficiently sensitive augurs. The enemy IS on high alert, after all. I’ve slowed our speed further to minimize our engine signature.”

“Oh… okay, that… that doesn’t sound so bad,” Fluttershy mumbled, visibly squirming.

Serith leaned toward the hololith and made a few quick adjustments. The regional maps vanished, replaced by their Thunderhawk and a surrounding sensor map. The patrol was at the outer ring, the four tiny icons representing fighters pointed straight toward the center.

“Er… they look like they’re heading for us,” Rarity pointed out anxiously.

“That may be the case, but they will not be able to confirm our position, much less establish weapons lock,” Dest assured his passengers.

“The patrol is in attack formation, not a search pattern,” Serith said grimly. “Their precise bearing is difficult to discern like this, but their course seems to suggest full tactical awareness of our location.”

“They can see us! The Warsmith’s device does nothing! This mission was doomed from the beginning!” Chrysalis snarled.

“Oh, would you relax,” Rainbow Dash huffed, “this is Solon’s ship. If he says it cloaks, then it cloaks. He doesn’t build stuff that doesn’t work. YOU of anyone should know that.”

Chrysalis blinked in surprise, and then bent her neck to stare at the ruby-red core ticking away in her chest.

Then she looked back up at the armored pegasus. “… What if the cloak worked, but it was damaged when those mines blew up near us?” She tapped her free hoof against her core. “The things the Warsmith makes are impressive, but they still break sometimes.”

A dreadful silence engulfed the passenger bay while the fighter wing closed with the gunship.

“… Okay, well, that means it’s your fault, though,” Rainbow said.

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is! They’re going to kill us!” Rarity shouted in a panic.

“Enemy patrol is almost at combat range,” Dest announced. “I’m taking evasive maneuvers!” The gunship tilted sharply to one side, and most of the passengers felt their stomachs flip as the aircraft entered a tight turn that overloaded its inertial dampers.

“Isn’t there some weapons on this thing we can use to fire back?” Chrysalis asked.

“This particular Thunderhawk boasts only heavy bolters and a few paltry rockets for quickly clearing poorly-defended landing zones,” Serith explained. “All other weapons were removed to allow for reducing the necessary munitions storage and redirecting maximum power to the cloaking fields and signum baffles. Not that we would wish to engage in a serious firefight with Imperial interceptors. They have every advantage and there are surely many more en route.”

The hull started trembling, and the passengers could hear the howl of engines besides those of the Thunderhawk. The shriek of lascannons and the rattle of autocannons cut through the air, and the equines held their breath.

A few seconds later, the icons on the hololith passed. The fighters seemed to split up, each going in separate directions.

“Was… Was that it? They missed?” Rarity squeaked.

“Affirmative,” Dest replied over the vox. “The shots were… close. I’m unable to determine how visible we are to conventional sensory targeting, but the cloak is working well enough to complicate their aim.”

“They’ll be making another pass,” Serith warned. “They have ample time to zero in on whatever trace they can detect. We need to land immediately and evacuate.”

“And leave the gunship for the Imperials?!” Dest scoffed.

“It belonged to them the moment they detected it breaching their defensive line. It’s simply a matter of whether our remains are crushed under the flaming wreckage,” Serith retorted.

“They’re coming around again! Sh-Should I put up a shield?” Twilight asked, her horn flickering uncertainly.

“Wouldn’t that let ‘em know exactly where to shoot? Yer barriers’re kinda bright an’ purple.”

“We don’t have a lot of options right now, Applejack!” the Princess retorted.

Again the sound of weapons fire came from outside, overwhelming the gunship’s engines. This time a crash came from the hull, and a sharp jolt shoved the ship to the right.

“We’re hit. No critical damage,” Dest announced. “Every successful shot will expose more of the hull for targeting, though.” The Thunderhawk jolted again, further rattling the passengers.

Rainbow stared down at the hololith as the fighters broke off again. Then she looked up at the exit ramp at the rear of the gunship. “Let’s fight ‘em.”

“That’s probably the concussion talking,” Trixie warned.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve taken down fighters before!” Rainbow protested. “Twilight can help too! She’s not very fast, but she has a stronger weapon!”

“Ooh! Ooh! I’ll bet Chrysalis can turn into a giant flying robot monster!” Pinkie chimed in, waving a hoof through the bars of her restraint harness.

“I can, but not right now,” the Changeling Queen grumbled. “As I said before we set out, my warforms are locked.”

Twilight pursed her lips and stared at Rainbow Dash. “You’re sure about this?”

“It’s this or try to ditch the gunship, right? If we do that we’re never getting out of here!” Rainbow’s flight pack opened up, and the impulse boosters started to hum. “Let’s show ‘em what a little love, tolerance, and super high-tech space armor can do!”

Twilight took a deep breath, and then turned to face Chrysalis. “Chrysalis?”

“What?”

“Disengage Nemesis lock. Authorization six,” Twilight said.

Her augmetic eye flashed beneath her helmet, and then Chrysalis felt a hot rush flooding her body as her core powered up. She pressed a hoof against the machine in her chest, and an aura of blazing green surrounded her body.

“I knew it,” the changeling said, grinning. She unhooked her leg from the chain overhead, and her wings started vibrating eagerly.

“Wait… What? Knew what? What just happened?” Rainbow asked, her earlier enthusiasm giving way to confusion.

“There’s no time to explain! Dest, override the rear ramp safeties! We’ll try to draw the fighters off while you figure out some way to get to safety!” Twilight shouted while her own flight pack started charging up.

The Thunderhawk jolted again, nearly throwing Chrysalis off-balance. A moment later the mag-locks on the embarkation ramp disengaged, and air rushed to the back of the transportation bay as the hold depressurized. Suuna held on to Pinkie’s restraint harness, whimpering, and the pink pony gave her a comforting nuzzle.

“Please be careful,” Fluttershy squeaked just loudly enough to be heard under the rushing wind.

“Please be enough,” Trixie added.

The gunship’s vox crackled. “Once again, we rely on the zeal and courage of ponies and monsters,” Dest laughed. “Iron within! Iron without!”

Rainbow Dash was the first one out.

Launching from the passenger bay with her impulse blasters, she vaulted into the open sky like a missile, immediately twisting into a corkscrew turn and releasing a jubilant, whooping cheer from her vox.

Evidently her launch resembled an actual missile closely enough to fool the two fighters directly behind the Thunderhawk, which both banked hard to evade the incoming pony. Rainbow Dash flew past them, twisting through the air and then curving tightly to follow one. A targeting reticule appeared over her visor, locking onto the aircraft. Datascreed appeared under the brackets, labeling the plane.

“Thunderbolt, huh? Looks a bit sturdier than the Ork fighter.” Two of the other fighters cut their speed, dropping back to tail the new threat.

“Dash! They’re moving to cover each other! They’re right behind you!” Twilight announced over the vox while she launched.

“I see them! Don’t worry; they’ll never hit me!” Rainbow blasted up and down, and then twisted into a dizzying spiral. “Just gotta keep ‘em off the gunship!”

“There’s still another fighter on the transport! I’ll see if I can get a… uh…”

Twilight trailed off as Chrysalis flew past her, wings buzzing and emerald fire trailing from her horn. The Changeling Queen rose higher, and then her body started to swell.

Her wings expanded considerably, thickening into hard, angular metal plates. Her back grew heavy armor plating that sprouted golden spikes down her spine. Her rear legs shriveled and vanished, while her forelegs expanded and grew massive clawed talons.

Chrysalis released a furious screech, her head shifting into a draconic skull and maw of blazing metal. A rotary cannon jutted from her mouth, and her twisted, disfigured horn grew to the size of a scythe blade. Seconds later the engines opened up on either side of her tail, which had itself grown to resemble an extended tailbone.

“THIS is why I wanted to come along,” Chrysalis announced gleefully, reveling in the body of a Heldrake daemon engine. Her boosters ignited, and she rocketed toward the fighter still chasing after the Thunderhawk.

It was implausible that the Thunderbolt’s pilot didn’t see Chrysalis coming, so Twilight had to assume that they simply didn’t recover in time from the incredible sight of an alien insect morphing into a giant metal dragon-plane. Chrysalis struck the heavy fighter on the wing, her talons digging into it before her own wing smashed into the fighter’s side. With a victorious howl she ripped the wing off the Thunderbolt and blasted off again, leaving the aircraft to spin off into a death dive.

“Yeesh, Solon gave her a flying dragon body too, huh? Figures.” Rainbow Dash jolted left and then rose just as fast, and a lascannon blast speared underneath her. “I dunno why she doesn’t use that all the time, then. I would!”

A few autocannon rounds whipped by as she spun into an evasive corkscrew again. Human pilots were a LOT more accurate than Orks were, evidently, and probably aided by much better equipment as well. Still, she was willing to bet they had never come up against anything quite like her.

“Time to show ‘em what a little Chaos can do!” Rainbow’s central booster opened up, and her speed almost doubled while she soared higher into the air. The fighters on her tail tried to follow, but they weren’t nearly as agile as the speedy pegasus. By the time they had leveled their weapons at her again, Rainbow was diving back down toward her quarry.

“GREETINGS FROM EQUESTRIA!!” she shouted, her vox amplifying her voice to a booming roar. “RAINBOW BUSTER!!”

The Thunderbolt fighter tried to bank into a turn, but it simply couldn’t change course quickly enough. Rainbow Dash speared through the tail end of the aircraft, gouging out a substantial portion of the hull. Flame and shrapnel burst from the impact ahead of a bizarrely colorful shock wave, and the armored pegasus spun away while the plane began losing altitude.

“GOTCHA!!” Rainbow cheered, peeling off to the side. “Two down, two to go! Dest, how’s it look? You clear?”

“Negative. I’ve found a possible landing point, but we will be exposed for approximately twenty minutes.”

“Heh! Don’t worry, we’ll finish these guys off long before then!”

“Also negative. We have a group of interceptors entering sensor range. They appear to be moving to engage the Queen.”

Rainbow curved upward sharply, and then scanned the airspace to get a better sense of the situation. Chrysalis was currently chasing after one of the fighters while another tried to tail her, and Twilight was chasing after that one, trying hard to keep up with her much slower flight pack. On the other side of the encounter was a bizarre visual that she eventually realized was the Thunderhawk gunship. A square-shaped section of the aircraft was clearly visible, displaying the rear of the transport compartment. The rest of the gunship, however, was a bluish blur amongst the clouds that seemed to bleed color into the surrounding sky. With a good look at the Thunderhawk’s exterior, it was very easy to see how it both made for an obvious target and would still be hard to shoot at.

Red indicator runes blinked on Rainbow’s visor display, and she finally spotted the latest additions to the skirmish. Her visor labeled them as “Lightning” interceptors, and they were approaching the combat from the airspace roughly between the Thunderhawk and the combat already in progress. The six fighters started breaking toward Chrysalis, identifying the terrifying daemon engine as the most obvious threat.

“Hey Twi! What’s the vox signum node for Chrysalis? We have incoming!” Rainbow shouted.

“She doesn’t have one! Daemon engines don’t have pilots, and aren’t fitted with standard vox relays!”

“What? Then how are we supposed to give her orders?”

“Strictly speaking, we’re not supposed to give her or any other daemon engine orders! The Dark Mechanicus has their own unique means of communicating with them!” Twilight explained.

Rainbow groaned and swung about in the air before pointing her nose toward the dogfight already in progress. Her central booster ignited, and the pegasus became a silvery streak across the sky while she homed in on the Heldrake.

Chrysalis swallowed a curse as the aircraft she was tailing slipped to the side and dropped, evading another burst from her Hades autocannon. The rotary gun was glowing a dark red from the heat buildup of firing almost constantly, and there were precious few spots of damage among the Thunderbolt fighter’s armor. Aerial combat was simply a completely different experience from trying to destroy people and vehicles on the ground, and the way the Heldrake’s single gun jutted from its mouth was an awkward fire point compared to, say, a Forgefiend’s arms. She would have much preferred to land on the enemy aircraft and tear them apart that way, but they also happened to be at least as fast as she was, and the pilots far more experienced.

A lascannon struck her back, boring a long, molten scar into her dorsal plating. Chrysalis flinched, and then twisted her head about to see if she could spit some burst fire at her pursuer. To her surprise she saw something streaking toward her from above, and almost panicked and started to evade before she realized it was one of her allies.

“Hey, Chrysalis! Watch it, we’ve got another group of fighters incoming at five o’clock!” Rainbow shouted, her voice amplified as loudly as possible to be heard over the various roaring engines.

Chrysalis seemed perplexed. “Five o’clock? What? The chronometer said it was nine already.”

Rainbow shook her head. “No, I mean they’re behind and to your right! They’re not in firing range now, but they’re coming in fast!”

A lascannon flashed over Rainbow’s head, and a few autocannon rounds slammed into Chrysalis’s wing. She hissed, and her eyes flashed green. “I’m having enough trouble with these two! What am I supposed to do against another squad of these pests?!” Chrysalis snarled.

“Well, if you were ME, you’d just use your awesome flying skills and super-sweet magic space armor to close in on each target and wreck them, like I did that first one,” Rainbow Dash said, suddenly twisting into a spiral that circled around the Heldrake’s head. “But you’re NOT me, so I guess...”

Chrysalis was consumed by green flames. In seconds the magic bled away behind her, and Rainbow Dash found herself flying next to another Rainbow Dash, complete with power armor and impulse thrusters.

“… Oh. Right.”

“Thanks for the tip! Don’t get shot! Those lasers sting something awful,” Chrysalis chirped, mimicking Dash’s voice perfectly. Then her main booster ignited, and the Changeling Queen blasted upward at triple her previous speed.

Rainbow Dash (the real one) banked hard, killing her engines and spinning around before activating them again in the opposite direction. The Thunderbolt fighter that had been tailing her zipped by a second later, unable to keep up with her maneuvers. Rainbow flew the other way, soaring higher in the air to get further out of the enemy’s attack window.

Once the immediate threat was gone, Rainbow could watch her doppelganger more carefully. Chrysalis had shot high above her target, matching its confused, evasive turns while waiting for it to level out. She recognized the technique immediately: Chrysalis was preparing to dive-bomb the aircraft just as Rainbow herself had done earlier.

Twilight’s vox opened up again. “Is she preparing that ‘Buster’ technique of yours?”

“Yeah, looks like it,” Rainbow answered.

“Okay… Does she know that it uses a specific device trigger, and you don’t do it by just crashing face-first into the enemy?”

“I doubt it. She didn’t ask for any tips or anything before she took off.”

Twilight groaned. Rainbow Dash turned on her visor’s vid recorder.

In the distance, Chrysalis started her dive. Curving her flight path downward, she narrowed the wings of her flight pack and picked up speed toward the Imperial fighter. Streaks of emerald green flame trailed from her boosters rather than rainbow-colored waves, which Dash thought was a nice touch and also a helpful point of visual distinction if she ever needed to prove to her friends that she wasn’t a changeling.

Then Chrysalis slammed into the Thunderbolt fighter. The aircraft jolted from the impact and a damaged armor plate came flying off, but it quickly steadied itself and then banked to re-engage the gunship.

Twilight’s sigh came over the vox. “I hope she didn’t break her neck…”

“Nah, don’t worry. Solon modded the helmet with much better padding after the first time I broke it open. She’ll be fine! As long as she recovers before she falls off and hits the ground, anyway.”

A green flash came from the wing of the Thunderbolt fighter, and the aircraft started to sink in the air as the mass it was carrying quickly overloaded its engines. Within seconds Chrysalis had completed the transformation into a Maulerfiend, clinging to the plane body with one hand while rearing the other arm back. She punched into the plane’s cockpit, pulverizing it completely, and then let go.

Bright green energy surrounded her again as she fell, returning her to her true body. Chrysalis quickly arrested her descent and then flew upward toward the ponies.

“Nice faceplant, Chryss! I thought you were gonna try and chew its wing off, but I guess you found a faster way!” Rainbow laughed, amplifying her voice to be heard across the sky.

“YOU!! How the blazes did you do that without killing yourself?!” the changeling snapped back. Green energy crackled around her horn as she closed the distance, her wings buzzing furiously. “If I hadn’t used a magic shield to blunt the impact I would have pulped my own skull!”

“Pff, you’re fine. You had my skull at the time and it’s way thicker than that,” Rainbow assured her.

A lascannon shrieked through the space between them, and they both flinched back before accelerating again.

“The interceptor squad is in engagement range! The squadron is spreading out!” Twilight vanished in a flash of purple and then reappeared above a fighter that was trying to move in on her tail. “Keep them off of the gunship, but first priority is staying ahead of those lascannons!”

“Gah! There are a lot of them!” Rainbow complained, zig-zagging through the air as two of the aircraft tried to pin her down under a steady beat of laser fire. “Are they just sending a constant stream of fighters after us? Chrysalis took down two and I got one, so how many have they lost already?”

“Three. That makes three,” Twilight said.

“Yeah, me and her got three. What about you?”

Twilight didn’t respond right away, which gave Rainbow Dash enough time to kill her thrusters and spin, executing another three-second U-turn. Two Lightning interceptors streaked past her on either side, and then banked in opposite directions to turn around.

“… Twi, did you get ANY planes so far?” Rainbow asked, nearly incredulous.

“They’re really hard to hit, okay?” the Princess griped. “I can barely manage a third of your cruising speed and it’s almost impossible to aim a heavy beam and evade at the same time! Aerial dogfighting is NOT my forte!”

“Can’t you just land on them and stab the engines or something?”

“No, I can’t ‘just’ land on a fighter aircraft! That’s a very difficult and reckless maneuver that YEEK!” Twilight yelped as an autocannon round struck her defensive barrier, and then she teleported again to move out of the line of fire.

Rainbow clicked her tongue and then accelerated to attack speed, picking out the Lightning fighter that was already turning to make another pass. She switched her vox connection as she did so, linking to the gunship node. “Hey, Dest! Things are getting pretty messy out here! Do you think you can get clear soon?”

“Negative. I am reconfiguring our exit path to take us out of the atmosphere. This mission has failed. We are aborting,” the pilot confirmed.

“What? Really?! Aw, ponyfeathers! We’ve never failed a mission before!” Rainbow Dash lamented.

“There is nothing buried in the ruins here that is worth the total loss of the assets we’ve deployed. Keep the enemy units engaged until the Thunderhawk has reached the upper atmosphere, then rejoin us. The enemy fighters will struggle to follow us into orbit; they are short-range atmospheric craft.”

“Got it, Dest,” Twilight interjected, “I’m going to focus on short-range teleports rather than trying to shoot them; it seems to really throw off their attack runs.”

Rainbow narrowed her eyes as her central booster ignited. “I’m going to focus on RAINBOW BUSTER HYAAAAA!!” The pegasus blasted forward toward the target ahead of her, and her vision blurred into an explosion of colored streaks across the sky.

The Imperial fighter suddenly barrel rolled, desperately shifting out of mare’s path. Rainbow could barely see amidst the particle flash of the kinetic refraction field, but once the colored lights faded she noticed that she didn’t see the usual spread of shredded armor and hull plating flying in front of her that she always saw after she used this attack. Glancing to the side, she was stunned to see her target peeling off with a paltry dent in its left wing.

“Did… Did that thing DODGE? It’s not supposed to dodge!” the pegasus fumed.

“These smaller fighters are a lot more agile than the Thunderbolts!” Twilight said, teleporting out of the path of one such aircraft before its lascannons sliced across the sky. “And given how tightly focused they are on us, I think the survivor told them what happened to the rest of its squad! We’re not going to take them by surprise again!”

“GAH!! This is so much less cool than usual!” Rainbow complained, spinning around and hitting her impulse blasters as another interceptor tried to dive toward her.

Autocannon shells and lasers speared underneath her, and she tried to guide herself back down to meet her would-be hunter and land on the hull. It quickly banked and turned away, however, leading Rainbow into the path of another fighter’s attack run. She spun away rather than following, growling in frustration at being denied again.

“… Hey, where’d Chrysalis go?” Rainbow suddenly asked, perplexed. The interceptor wing seemed completely consumed trying to shoot down her and Twilight, who were also by far the hardest to hit between Rainbow’s agility and Twilight’s teleporting. A search of the surrounding skies showed no trace of the Changeling Queen.

“Oh, she’s still here,” Twilight assured her pegasus friend. “I think she-YEEP! Can’t talk! Gotta focus!”

The Lightning fighter that had barely escaped Rainbow’s assault slowed into a turn on the edge of the combat airspace, cutting its speed so that the pilot could better plan their next run. A light blur appeared over the aircraft, and then a wash of sparks came from the wing when something small hit it.

Fluttershy decloaked, revealing the polished pony armor locked onto the Lightning’s wing. She turned to stare at the aircraft’s cockpit, and the lenses of her visor flashed a bright green as the pilot gawked at the strange creature mag-locked onto his fighter craft.

Chrysalis grew once again, shifting back into her Heldrake form while clinging to the Lightning interceptor. Talons of Warp-forged adamantium emerged from the shroud of changeling magic and plunged into the seam where the wing met the hull, ripping it apart. Her rear legs vanished and were replaced by thrusters, and her flight pack stretched to become massive metal wings.

“HA HA HAAA!! NOWHERE TO RUN NOW, COWARDS!!” Chrysalis cackled in glee as she flung the sundered aircraft aside and then boosted up toward the next closest target.

The interceptor was already veering away, and Chrysalis opened her jaws to release a burst from her Hades autocannon. Bright red shot fanned across the sky, and a Warp-fueled slug bored into one of the Lightning’s engines. Fire and metal burst out the front of the turbine, and thick smoke vomited from the Lightning’s rear.

With her target slowed, Chrysalis quickly caught up to the aircraft and plunged her claws into the wing. With the fighter unable to escape, she reared her head back and fired her main gun directly into the cockpit. The armorglass shielding crumpled under the pummeling salvo, and the pilot was subsequently pulverized. She threw her wings up and crowed in delight, braking in the air so that she could search for fresh prey.

“Chrysalis! Don’t slow down!” Twilight yelled, her voice barely reaching the changeling. “The other fighters are-“

The scream of lascannons filled the airspace. Two lances of white-hot power pierced Chrysalis’s left wing, burning into the eldritch energies that protected her and then the armor beneath it. Two more struck her back, boring deep into the guts of the daemon engine. A third grazed her neck right afterward, the shots all striking in rapid succession. Autocannon rounds slammed into her immediately afterward, hammering her armor from multiple directions and threatening to rip her entire frame apart.

“CHRYSALIS!!” Twilight screamed, her heart leaping into her throat as the Heldrake seemed to disintegrate into a shroud of green mist.

A dark body fell from the rapidly dissipating haze a second later, plummeting freely toward the ground.

Rainbow swung around, and a whine came from her central booster as it charged up. “Hold on, I can catch-“

“Direct hit! We have engine damage!” The sudden announcement over the vox sent Rainbow spinning around again in a panic, checking the upper bounds of the airspace.

The Thunderhawk gunship was high above the rest of the fighters, trailing smoke while its hull flickered in and out of view. A single Thunderbolt heavy fighter – the only survivor of the initial patrol that had attacked them – peeled off from its attack run while its weapons cooled for the next salvo.

Rainbow Dash stuttered uselessly into her vox, but Twilight spoke decisively. “Dash, help them out! I’ll get Chrysalis!” The alicorn vanished in a flash of purple, disappearing just as two of the interceptors turned on her.

Rainbow’s impulse blasters launched her upward, and her booster brought her to full speed. The armored pegasus streaked across the sky, cleaving clouds apart and easily outpacing the Lightning fighters that were moving to engage her.

It wasn’t enough.

The Thunderbolt finished its turn and came around for another pass, accelerating directly into the rear of the transport. The smoke trail gave an excellent lead for targeting the partially-cloaked transport, but it was hardly necessary: the open embarkation ramp gave a clear view into the rear of the passenger bay even while the rest of the hull constantly blurred and vanished like a malfunctioning vid-screen.

“Wait… is that… what are they…” Rainbow narrowed her eyes, her visor zooming in on the Thunderhawk’s rear. Serith and Trixie stood in the opening just before the ramp. The former was holding his hand out toward the sky, while the latter was glowing bright pink around her helmet.

The Thunderbolt heavy fighter moved level with the transport gunship as it entered optimal attack range.

Sparks suddenly erupted from one of its engines, and its nose swung to one side right before a lascannon slashed across the sky. The laser missed the Thunderhawk by less than a meter, but the Imperial fighter adjusted its malfunctioning engines and lined up its weapons once more. Serith and Trixie held their strange poses, forcing their will upon the aircraft. Strings of purple and whips of green seemed to crawl over the Thunderbolt’s hull, seeping into seams, lashing at bolts, or curling around exposed cables.

The Thunderbolt fired its other lascannon. A capacitor immediately exploded, generating another burst of sparks and light flare at the rear of the weapon. A much weaker laser struck the body of the Thunderhawk, leaving little more than a burn mark that scoured away slightly more of the gunship’s cloaking field.

Then one of the engine turbines shuddered to a stop, and the pilot decided to cut his losses. The Thunderbolt peeled off, many of its components visibly shaking as if they were in danger of coming loose. Rainbow let her booster cool down and took a deep, relieved breath.

A Lightning interceptor sped past her, its own boosters on full burn.

“Wait! No! STOP!!” Rainbow blasted forward again, but she wasn’t able to catch up before the Imperial fighter attacked. Twin lascannons lanced into the smoldering wing of the Thunderhawk gunship, and a moment later the engine detonated. The entire transport swung to one side, and then started to sink through the air.

“NOOOOOO!!!” Rainbow screamed, her vox amplifying her cry across the sky. Red flashes and data screed boxed in the aircraft as it sunk between the clouds, but Dash blinked it all away. Her visor tilted toward the Lightning, and the fighter was bracketed in deep red.

“No escape,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Not for me… and not for you!” Her boosters roared loader.

The Lightning swung hard to one side, rolling to evade. Rainbow Dash matched the maneuver, her world spinning as she activated the kinetic refraction field. Metal met metal, and one set of armor plates gave way. Rainbow Dash punched a hole in the wing of the interceptor, tearing through in a burst of shredded metal and prismatic light. The Lightning fighter lost control, spinning into a death dive while trailing a spiral of smoke and armor scraps.

Rainbow gave no exultant cry or victorious flourish as she leveled out. Her visor was locked onto the sinking Thunderhawk. Red icons flashed over blinking data-screed as her armor cogitator explained in excruciating detail why all the parts of the gunship currently on fire weren’t working. The vox connection was silent; in a normal combat airspace a pilot would be broadcasting a call for help, but what good would that do them here?

An autocannon shell whipped by overhead, reminding the pegasus that she was now the only viable target remaining. Rainbow Dash swallowed her pain and banked into a wide turn to face her opponents.

“No way to help my friends, no way to escape the planet… nothing to do but fly and fight until the end…” she whispered to herself, locking her visor onto one of the Lightning interceptors. “Too bad for you.”

Her vox link lit up.

“Rainbow Dash, continue diverting the remaining fighters’ attention until we have landed. Then break off below the tree line. We’re attempting to regroup.”

Dest’s voice snapped Rainbow out of her grim funk, and she swerved hard to the left just before a lascannon sliced through the sky at her.

“What?! Dest?! You guys are okay?!” she gasped.

“No,” the Iron Warrior said bluntly, “we are not, by any conceivable measure, okay. We’ve lost both engines and I am unable to control our descent vector. The power core is barely functional and our fuel reserves could ignite at any moment.”

Rainbow twisted into a spiral while autocannon rounds thundered past her from multiple angles. “Fluttershy can still fly, right? Maybe if she-“

“Quiet,” Dest interrupted calmly. “The Sorcerer believes he and the unicorns can stabilize our descent sufficiently for us to survive the landing. However, we cannot afford any of the remaining fighters to notice and finish us off. Divert them until we’ve either landed, or until you see us detonate.”

Rainbow winced, and then she cut into a sharp upward turn. The screams of straining turbo engines filled the air while the interceptors tried to follow her movements and stay within attack range. “I’ve got it! There are only three of them left; this’s no sweat!”

“There’s another two squadrons bearing due east-by-southeast,” Dest pointed out.

Rainbow spun about, and she had to suppress a whimper when she spotted several dark shapes in the distance. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! There’s MORE?!”

“This world has hundreds of operational aircraft on standby,” Dest pointed out before a loud popping noise came from somewhere around the vox receiver. “The fighters are escorting Valkyrie gunships. This is fortunate in that they are slower than the main fighter aircraft and will delay the arrival of the new threats, and unfortunate in that they likely carry soldiers to hunt us down in the event of a successful landing.”

Rainbow’s expression hardened, and she glanced down to track the interceptors already on her tail. “They can send two fighters or two hundred. They’re not gonna take me down! Take care of the girls, Dest!”

“It is largely out of my control, but I will endeavor to do so,” the pilot replied, his voice steadily breaking up into static as the signum degraded. There was a sizzling noise on the other end, and after a few seconds the words CONNECTION LOST appeared at the top of her visor.

Rainbow licked her lips, zooming in on the crowd of incoming hostiles. “Hey, uh… magic space armor? You listening?”

A cursor appeared in the corner of her view screen, blinking steadily.

“We’re in a tight spot here, but if you can just keep the big lasers from slicing me in half until I can get in the middle of those guys, I think we can pull this off. What I want you to do is put as much juice as you can into the turbo booster for four seconds, and then shift all that energy to the bouncy boot jet thingy. Then after four seconds, switch it back, and keep going like that until I say stop.”

Affirmative. Alternating power routing in 4… 3… 2…

“Please be okay, everyone,” Rainbow breathed while her engines charged.

Then the pegasus took off like a rocket, soaring toward the incoming reinforcements.

“We have lost our vox signum. Damage is affecting all main systems now. We will have total power loss within minutes.”

Dest’s voice was grim but calm over the vox. The passenger bay wasn’t nearly so collected. Serith stood in the middle of the floor, palms upraised and head bowed. Trixie and Rarity stood on either side of him, their horns aglow. Each of the unicorns kept glancing away, however, distracted by the various small fires and concerning popping noises that kept erupting around them. Suuna and Pinkie were clutching each other in horror, while Fluttershy clung to Applejack’s armored tail. The floor was badly tilted and kept shaking, and Serith and the armored ponies had to stay mag-locked to the floor plating to stand.

“FOCUS, equines,” Serith hissed, “your lives depend on it!”

“I’m trying!” Rarity gasped, her horn casing pulsing with blue light. “I’ve never tried to levitate something like this before!”

“Are ya sure ya can do this? Ah don’t think we’re slowin’ down…” Applejack gulped.

“If you want to take your chances with this world’s gravity on your own, the embarkation ramp is already unlocked,” the Sorcerer retorted, his hands blazing.

“Fluttershy! You can still escape!” Rarity said, her horn flickering.

“I SAID FOCUS!!” Serith barked.

Fluttershy shook her head, still clinging to the armored coiling around Applejack’s tail. “I w-won’t go! You can d-do this, Rarity! We b-believe in you!” Her voice quivered as badly as the gunship itself, and she squeaked in fright when a ceiling panel fell and bounced off of Applejack’s cowl.

“I… I just…” Rarity’s breath was heavy while her magic brightened and dimmed like a strobe light. “Everything about this is impossible! The angling! The velocity! The mass! I can’t even properly see what I’m trying to grasp!” She gasped, and her horn casing pulsed again.

“Ah can’t even imagine how difficult it is,” Applejack said firmly, “but you’ll pull it off, Rares. Yer just that kind of pony.”

Rarity growled in frustration, and motes of blue light appeared and started orbiting her horn as her concentration intensified.

“…… You know she’s not the only one trying to save us all, right?” Trixie asked. “Any words of encouragement for the rest of us?”

“Uh, well, Ah hope you’ll pull it off too, sure,” Applejack added awkwardly, “but ya always struck me as the sorta mare to buckle under when the chips were down.”

“WHAT?!” Trixie shouted, outraged.

“Stop arguing! Maintain lift!” Serith snapped.

A small explosion came from the wall, and a panel opened up before spilling parts and bits of shredded metal onto the floor.

“We’ve lost all power. Controls are completely unresponsive,” Dest said over the helmet vox. “You have seconds remaining until impact.”

Serith howled angrily, balling his gauntlets into fists and thrusting them into the air. The shaking of the gunship intensified, but it wasn’t clear that it was moving any more slowly. Rarity’s magic aura was shimmering all around her, and hidden capacitors on her armor started to emerge from vector slots and spark dangerously.

“Is it working? I don’t think it’s working!” Pinkie said.

Trixie’s eye twitched as the altimeter in her visor display slipped into double digits. A growl started building from deep in her throat. Her eyes flashed, and the aura around her horn casing winked out.

“Trixie is NOT going to die like this!” the unicorn shouted, suddenly rearing up. “Being smeared across burning wreckage before even getting to set hoof on the ground?! TRIXIE WILL NOT STAND FOR IT!! HRAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!”

The others, in the panic and desperation of the moment, didn’t all give their full attention to the outburst. Applejack was trying to find a good spot to brace, reasoning that her armor might be enough to save her from the wreck, and Fluttershy was having serious doubts about her earlier determination not to escape by herself. Everyone noticed, however, when Trixie’s magic aura bloomed around her and swallowed the visible magic coming from Serith and Rarity.

What was a surprising and hopeful sight of arcane prowess turned somewhat alarming when the magical energy darkened from pink to red. Crimson power roared around the psykers like an eldritch flame, and Serith recoiled in shock.

The gunship lurched, and the passenger bay swung about again so that the floor was mostly level, with a slightly downward tilt toward the front. The hull creaked dangerously, and several more panels popped and folded under the stress while the gunship trembled.

“Tr-Trixie?” Applejack mumbled, her jaw slack. “What’re you-“

“THIS THING IS TOO HEAVY!!” Trixie declared. It sounded like an angry complaint more than an excuse or a lament, and the fiery swath of magic power suddenly pulsed. Rarity squealed in fright and Serith’s armor rattled from the force bleed running through it. A second later there was a loud clunking noise that came from somewhere outside the gunship. Trixie’s visor lenses turned black, like they had been filled with pitch, and then flashed brightly again. Rarity and Serith were as confused as ever, but went back to concentrating on levitation in grim silence.

The Thunderhawk stopped shaking quite as much after this, and for several seconds everyone held their breath. Suuna, who was tightly hugging Pinkie Pie through the bars of her restraint harness, cracked an eye open fearfully, and then she slowly turned her head to look out of the back of the gunship.

She didn’t get so much as a glimpse before the Thunderhawk landed.

“AAAAUGH!!” screams of panic and shock came from several individuals as the transport gunship touched the first obstacle in its path. Trees knocked the aircraft to one side or the other, and the sound of cracking wood and shrieking metal created quite a din on top of the shrieks. Fluttershy lost her grip on Applejack and slammed painfully against a wall, although she managed to mag-lock her greaves properly after that. Serith maintain his footing, technically, but Rarity swung into his leg with such force that the thigh sleeve and knee joint came apart and were sent flying across the passenger bay. The embarkation ramp struck the ground, flipped up, and then slammed into a damaged lock brace hard enough for one of the hinges to break loose.

Still, after only a few more lurches and crashes the final jarring impact rattled the frame of the Thunderhawk and it finally came to a rest. The occupants slowly looked up, terrified but hopeful, their breaths short and hearts pounding (exempting those who did not possess the requisite organs, of course).

“HAH!!” Trixie shouted, trying to raise a hoof to point at Applejack. She failed to unstick to her hoof from the floor, as it was still fully mag-locked and she didn’t QUITE trust that she didn’t need it that way anymore, so instead she leaned forward sharply while pointing her horn at the farmpony. “Who was it you said buckled under?! Not Trixie!”

Applejack blinked slowly. “Er… okay, yeah. Ah’ll eat mah words. That was amazin’ Trixie!”

Rarity seemed far more shaken when she interjected. “Y-Yes, it was, but when you-“

Rarity was cut off when the door to the pilot’s compartment was suddenly ripped open by a thick, blackened claw. Fluttershy would have shrieked in surprise, but she still had the wind knocked out of her and could only manage a soft wheeze.

“Run! Evacuate the Thunderhawk immediately!” Dest commanded as he strode through the passenger bay. Without waiting for a response, he reached for the restraints securing Pinkie and Suuna and sliced them free of the much-abused hull mountings.

Pinkie practically tumbled free of the restraint harness, but Suuna was nursing a bleeding cut on the side of her head and clutching her stomach while moaning weakly. Before either of them could protest, Dest snatched Pinkie up in one arm and the hapless woman in the other.

“Stop gawking and move!” the possessed Astartes barked, dashing toward the rear of the gunship. The embarkation ramp was only partly open and wedged in the ground at an angle, but a solid kick from a ceramite boot ensured the path was clear.

“I, ah, seem to be missing a few crucial components,” Serith said awkwardly, still standing on one leg. He wedged the blade of his force halberd under the stray boot still locked to the floor, prying it off, but he was still missing the rest of his right leg.

“Trixie has the sleeve! The knee joint is next to hick pony!” Trixie shouted, levitating the armor piece before galloping after the pilot.

Rarity spotted the other piece and grabbed it with her magic. “Okay, but why are we running, exactly?”

“If he had time to explain he woulda told us!” Applejack used her gravity lash to yank Fluttershy over and onto her back, and then she took off as well.

The others evacuated the gunship in a mad dash, clambering out into the forests of Ulaisse. The terrain was quite thick, with dense tree coverage and extensive underbrush, but with the Thunderhawk having plowed some of it over on landing and Dest’s blade-covered mass leading the way, the group made rapid progress.

“Wait! My Dreadnought!” Pinkie suddenly shouted, squirming under Dest’s arm. “What happened to my Dreadnought? It was too big for carry-on! We have to go back!”

“There’s no time,” Dest replied firmly, scything down some overgrown reeds with his shoulder-mounted servo blades.

“Your walker fell somewhere else,” Trixie assured her. “It was too much dead weight and the mag-winch lost power, so Trixie dumped it before we touched down.”

“Now that we’re away from the gunship, can you explain WHY we’re running?” Rarity gasped. “Is there a fuel leak? Did you set a self-destruct sequence? Is it-“

The shriek of lascannon fire coming from above interrupted her and sent most of the party diving to the ground for cover. Lances of blazing red speared into the crashed Thunderhawk from above, striking it in pairs and punching holes in the hull. Autocannon fire followed it, hammering the wreck with dozens of shells before each aircraft finished its strafing run.

The ponies stared with wide eyes at the smoldering mess that had once been the pride of the 38th Company’s assault wing. No part of the vehicle had been spared, and the blazing remains of the passenger bay was completely exposed to the open air as the hull around it had been shredded. The cockpit had been completely caved in, and every one of the devices on the transport’s exterior that had generated the cloaking field was reduced to scrap and cinders.

“It occurred to me that the patrols would notice when we made a relatively soft landing,” Dest grumbled. “Between rapid elimination of the enemy and recovering some usable wreckage or prisoners, Imperial defense forces rarely choose the latter.”

Suuna started vomiting, and Dest gently lowered her to the ground before releasing her to heave her stomach out. “Once you finish… that, we have to go. We must put as much distance as possible between us and the wreck.”

“What else can we expect?” Applejack asked.

“They will deploy kill teams to mop up and secure the area, so we can expect to have Imperial troops tracking us since we cannot move without leaving an obvious trail,” Dest surmised. “Unless, of course…”

The others waited. Serith, who was reassembling his leg, hammered his knee joint back into place and then stamped his damaged boot onto the ground repeatedly.

“Well? Unless what?” the Sorcerer prompted irritably. “Out with it! I dislike reading your mind with that imbecile daemon nattering away all the time.”

“I saw bombers among the incoming reinforcements,” admitted the pilot.

Suuna took a deep breath, wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and then took off running again.

The rest of the group jolted into action once the sound of the first explosion thundered through the forest. The bomb blast was followed by another, and then two more, and then three more, each explosive crash building over the last in a terrifying crescendo. The Thunderhawk wreckage was utterly pulverized under the blasts, but the attack didn’t stop at the landing site. Bombs continued falling into the surrounding woods, ripping trees to shreds and incinerating underbrush.

“ISN’T THIS A LITTLE MUCH?!” Rarity complained as she galloped through the trees.

“Trixie hates to take the enemy’s side here, but we are still alive, so no!” the magician pointed out.

“Are they just flattenin’ the whole forest tryin’ t’get us?” Applejack asked. The bombs weren’t exactly following them, judging by the varying distances of the detonations, but they were obviously spreading away from the Thunderhawk’s remains.

“It wouldn’t be the worst strategy, but I doubt it,” Serith admitted. “Even among the most desperate Imperial troops smoldering with righteous fury, overkill has its limits. And bomb bays only have so much room.”

Dest rushed ahead toward a veritable cage of small, thin trees barring their path, cutting them all down with a single swing of his claw. Without even waiting for the severed trunks to land he jumped into the grove beyond, nearly landing on Twilight Sparkle.

“Yeep! Look out!” Twilight almost reared up in surprise, but then she felt Chrysalis start to slide off her back. She stumbled, but Dest grabbed her by the wing before she could fall over.

“Twilight! You’re alive! Hooray!” Pinkie Pie squealed, waving a hoof toward the alicorn.

“Run,” the Iron Warrior said simply, pulling her back upright. Then he suited words to actions, dashing through the shallow water with Pinkie still pinned under one arm.

Suuna, Trixie, Serith, Applejack, Rarity, and Fluttershy soon followed, plowing or jumping through the shredded reeds and racing past the Princess. None of them deigned to explain what it was they were running from, but the periodic booming noises coming from behind them convinced Twilight that they probably had the right idea. She shifted into a hover, leaning to one side briefly to shift Chrysalis’s unconscious body into a more secure position. Then she sped off after her friends.

“You made it! You landed safely after all!” Twilight gushed once she caught up with her squad.

“’Safely’ would be a bit generous, but I suppose I can’t complain!” Rarity gasped.

A flash came from their right, followed by a thunderous boom.

“Where’s Dash?” Applejack asked.

“She’s still diverting the fighters, I think! I have a link to her bio-readings, so I know she’s okay, but I’m not sure when she can-“

A brilliant flash of light came from above, followed by a noise that was similar to, but somehow distinctly not, a bomb explosion. Waves of color spread across the sky, shining a brilliant spectrum of light down between the webs of branches in the forestland below. A distant whistle sang through the trees, becoming rapidly louder and more shrill.

“INCOMING!!” Dest barked, turning sharply and pressing his back against a tree.

“What is?! From where?!” Trixie asked desperately.

Twilight didn’t reply, but instead she landed and summoned a shield dome. The others skidded to a stop, and then started searching the trees for the threat. It wasn’t hard to find.

With one wing completely shattered, a single large aircraft descended into the forest in a wild tailspin, leaving a spiral trail of blackened smoke behind it. The various armor visors all tagged the plane as a Marauder bomber, and then lost their target lock as it sank low enough to start running into trees. Luckily, the bomber came down well ahead of the space pirates, but as the Marauder came apart amongst a wave of shredded wood and shrapnel it was a grisly reminder to the ponies of the fate they had so narrowly avoided.

Everyone was quiet as the noise from the crash finally petered out. Most of the ponies waited silently for some order or observation from Twilight. The Iron Warriors kept their gaze on the skies, unsure whether the Imperial squadrons would follow the death of another aircraft with a blind strafing run.

“You made it! Oh, Celestia, I can’t believe it!”

Many of the mares jumped in surprise, and they whirled around to see Rainbow Dash standing atop a high branch in one of the nearby trees. Her armor seemed, impressively, undamaged, although her central thruster was bright red around the edges and the small “feather” thrusters were leaking blue sparks.

“I knew you guys could do it! Nothing can stop us!” Rainbow gushed, rearing up and pointing a foreleg up toward the sky. “Hay, maybe I should head back up there and take down one of those Valkyries! That’ll show these dumb-“

Serith sharply jabbed a finger at Rainbow Dash, and then drew it down toward the ground. The pegasus promptly lost any sense of motor control, and her words turned to incomprehensible mumbles before she dropped off the side of her tree branch and plummeted to the forest floor.

“Gah! Serith! Quit it!” Twilight snapped, barely switching her spell focus to levitation in time. Rainbow was caught on a cushion of sparkling purple light, and the Princess grunted before letting Rainbow Dash gently sink to the ground. “She already has a concussion, remember?!”

“Must have slipped my mind,” Serith drawled. “Now stay low, and be silent. Engage your armor’s non-detection profile and stay close to the trees.”

“Our armor’s… what?” Applejack cocked her head to one side. “Ah thought only Flutters had a cloakin’ thingamajigger.”

“All power armor suits emit a wide band of radiotronic auras and useful signum that make them relatively easy to detect,” Dest explained. “You can deactivate most of them with negligible impact on tactical mobility.” He moved away from the tree and stared off in the direction of the wrecked bomber. “It’s crucial we avoid long-range detection right now.”

“Crucial, but ultimately pointless,” Serith hissed. “If the enemy has stopped their bombing waves, then they’re dispatching ground troops. We cannot avoid them for long.”

Rainbow Dash pushed herself up, shaking her head to remove the psychic fog. “Then we’ll kick their butts too! What’re you moping for, Serith? We made it, didn’t we? Everyone survived!”

She hesitated, then glanced over at the charcoal-colored body draped over Twilight’s back. “She, uh, did survive, right?”

“I can’t be totally certain, but since her eldritch core replaces several key organs and it’s still ticking I would say yes,” Twilight allowed, “but it’s kind of hard to tell how extensive the damage is with all the… well, you know.”

“Our good fortune is extraordinary, and entirely temporary,” the Sorcerer sniffed. “We’ve already alerted the planet’s defenders. They know our location within a radius of mere kilometers. We have no ability to extract, and we are nowhere near the location in which we sought to infiltrate. All that remains is to see how many opponents we might take with us before they extinguish us.”

“Wow, way to be a buzzkill,” Pinkie grumbled, still held under Dest’s arm. Suuna reached over and tenderly petted her mane, but the young woman looked as despondent as anyone else.

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, here,” Trixie said, stepping in front of Serith. “We still have a lot of magic, a really big Dreadnought, plus whatever Dest is. And Sparkle said she set up that message spell to contact the ship! We still have options here!”

“We do not, at the moment, have a Dreadnought,” Dest pointed out, carefully handing Pinkie Pie over to Suuna. “What’s more, I hesitate to recommend recovering it. There is no simple means with which to obscure the radiation bleed from a Contemptor’s atomantic generator.”

“Well, then,” Serith began, lowering himself toward Twilight in a mocking bow, “tell us, oh equine seer: now that we’ve reached the world you so desired to explore, where do we go next before the Imperium’s hounds are set upon us?”

Twilight kept Serith’s gaze for a few long seconds. Then she turned away, staring out into the forest. She closed her eye, and let her optical augment dissolve its image into static, clearing her vision.

“…………”

“…… Twilight?” Applejack asked nervously after nearly a minute of silence.

“I can feel it,” Twilight announced. “The… artifact… or whatever it is… Now that I’m here, it’s still reaching out to me.”

“Fascinating. Does it give directions, by any chance?” Rarity asked.

“I still have our navigational data,” Dest interjected. “I can lead us to our objective location, but that’s not the problem. The direction to our objective leads back through the Thunderhawk wreckage, which is where I expect the ground forces to begin their hunt.”

The alicorn Princess turned her head left. “This way.”

“That’s… not the direction I was referring to,” Dest admitted. “Is there another path?”

“I think so. I feel like someone is whispering secrets in my ear, but I can’t quite focus well enough to hear them clearly.” Twilight shook her head. “In any case, this direction leads us away from the Thunderhawk wreck, which we’ll want to do anyway.”

“Great! Then let’s get this show on the road!” Rainbow cheered. She jumped up into the air and started to hover, only for Dest to round on her immediately.

“Do NOT activate your impulse engines!” the pilot snapped, causing her to drop back down again. “Keep your energy emissions as low as possible! We have no idea of the extent or sensitivity of this world’s augur arrays!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Rainbow Dash grumbled, ducking her head before walking past the pilot. The other ponies followed, swiftly picking up the pace.

Sunna walked by next, still carrying Pinkie Pie against her chest. Dest didn’t know why the mare wasn’t running on her own, but as long as Suuna didn’t lag behind he decided it didn’t matter.

Serith brought up the rear, and as the Sorcerer passed Dest turned to follow him.

“For the record, I was being sarcastic when I asked the Princess to find a way forward,” Serith said bitterly while he advanced.

“We know, Lord.”

The trek through the forest was blessedly uneventful after the crash, despite the occasional noise of a patrol fighter flying overhead. Great trees with waxy blue bark and fan-like webs of branches and leaves stretched into the sky, forming the majority of the forest cover and shielding them from above. These trees varied in thickness from the diameter of an oil drum to that of a small cottage, but judging by the number of them that had been cut down by the fallen bomber they weren’t nearly as sturdy as they looked. A variety of smaller alien flora poked up in the gaps that leaked direct sunlight onto the forest floor: some were rail-thin spikes tilted toward the sunbeams, their leaves held close and razor-edged. Others boasted mottled flowers that weighed heavily on thin stems and branches. There was even one that appeared to be carnivorous, with a gaping central opening surrounded by petals that stunk so strongly of sweet honey that it almost hid the concurrent odor of rotting flesh.

The ponies didn’t remark upon the natural beauty surrounding them, busy as most of them were trampling it in order to escape the presumed kill teams that would be tracking them down. But Fluttershy found herself slowing frequently to step around a patch of flowers and furtively take some pict-captures with her visor. There were even some alien animals about, although most seem to have scampered into hiding due to the nearby plane crash and aborted bombing raid.

Crab-like scuttlers the size of a human hand with shells like gleaming black thorns attached themselves to trees, sometimes attended by a swarm of much smaller, similar organisms. Many-legged mammals that resembled weasels with bushy red fur poked their noses out of subterranean burrows, hissed at the strange armored intruders, and then slunk back underground. Birds of all colors and sizes watched the party – dressed as they were in gleaming metal armor – from the high branches, occasionally whistling or squawking. Whenever the sound of a fighter’s engines approached the avian aliens would scatter in a practiced panic, gliding from one tree to another on wings of bright orange or striped ivory.

The pirates passed by the wreckage of the downed Marauder bomber without pause or investigation. Bits of metal shrapnel and shredded foliage were scattered everywhere in the surrounding area, and a flaming pool of promethium was slowly spreading from the crumpled airframe. The crash had also opened up a great deal of the forest canopy, and Fluttershy spotted a few other columns of smoke in the distance.

“Rainbow Dash, uhm, how many enemy planes did you wreck?” the meek pegasus asked.

“I got three of them total. Only managed to take down that bomber after Twi and Chryss left the fight,” Rainbow answered with a sigh. “Those stupid interceptors are hard to hit! And the pilots are no joke! I tried to zip around in the middle of the group so they might run into or shoot each other, but no luck. Those gunships nearly got me!”

“Now you see the difference between Orks and men,” Serith interjected. “The greenskins treat war as mere sport. Few other species can afford such laxity.”

“The Imperials lost seven aircraft and we still managed to land,” Dest countered. “That’s quite a heavy loss to put down a single Thunderhawk.”

“It’s little comfort,” Serith replied sharply. “With every setback they will return with double the numbers. Where can we run? How can we hide?”

“Underground,” Twilight said. “The ‘underhive’ or whatever you call it. We can take refuge there. A maze of tunnels and no room for aircraft.”

Dest hesitated. “We’re very far from our proposed landing site. The underhive of a finished city wouldn’t extend nearly this far from the outer reaches. Are you certain of this?”

Twilight seemed unperturbed. “Then maybe it’s something else. But it’s there. Just a little further…”

“Hey! Look! The Dreadnought!” Pinkie chirped, squirming out of Suuna’s arms.

Sure enough, sitting at the base of one of the forest’s larger trees was the empty shell of Pinkie Pie’s excessively decorated Contemptor Dreadnought. The assault walker lay on a bed of torn branches, slumped on its side, but appeared largely undamaged. Sap oozed down over one shoulder where the walker had gouged out part of the trunk, and several of the local woodland animals were crawling around the massive metal frame. The Dreadnought’s head had apparently come loose on impact and landed several meters away, and a bright blue snake-like creature with a mouth covered in fleshy whiskers was coiled up inside.

“Wow. It’s in pretty good shape fer bein’ chucked overboard like that,” Applejack remarked, looking up into the hole in the forest canopy.

“It helps that the gravity here is some eighty-three percent of what we’re used to in Equestria,” Twilight replied. “It had a lighter fall than it would have gotten back home.

“Oh. Really?” Applejack stomped a heavy armored boot onto the ground, as if testing its weight. “Ah didn’t really notice.”

Some of the other mares snickered at this, but Fluttershy’s attention was locked elsewhere. A large bird with six eyes and a very long, curled tail plume had landed on a branch overhead and was starting to sing. It’s voice was a shrill whistle that swiftly rose and fell in pitch, carefully punctuated into distinct bursts of varying length. Fluttershy, fascinated, adjusted her autosenses to focus on the bird’s song and shut out the noise from her companions.

“It’s fortunate we found the Contemptor in good repair, but I must remind you all that reactor startup will almost certainly result in immediate detection and the beginning of strafing runs,” Dest said.

“Well what’re we supposed to do with it? We can’t carry it,” Rainbow Dash grumbled.

Pinkie trotted up to the helmet and tilted it to the side, dumping out the new occupant onto the ground. The alien hissed at her, but quickly scurried away without further complaint.

“There is no chance the Imperials will not find this area, even if they elected for some reason not to hunt us down. It’s too close to the Marauder crash site,” Dest said ruefully.

“Can we hide it somehow?” Rarity asked.

“I was thinking more along the lines of trapping it,” replied the pilot. “If we can eliminate one of the pursuit teams, it would slow their progress and might keep the rest away from the… hm?”

Dest turned and glanced down, where Fluttershy was ever-so-gently tapping her boot against his.

“Um, excuse me, b-but that b-bird says the aircraft are dropping, erm, th-things all throughout the f-forest,” she said, stumbling over her words in a panic. She jabbed a hoof toward the bird she had been observing, which was running its long, curved beak through its wings.

“… That bird communicated with you? It can speak?” Dest asked, perplexed.

Twilight was less incredulous, and quickly addressed the more important part of the warning. “What ‘things’ are they dropping? They can’t be more bombs, or we would have heard them.”

“Er…” Fluttershy glanced back at the avian alien, which gave a brief squawk. “I don’t know. They’re big and round and shiny, and like you said they’re not exploding. But it sounds kind of important, I think? They wouldn’t be dropping those things unless they had something to do with us, right?”

The sound of a fighter craft approaching sent the pirates scattering, each one of them pressing against a tree or jumping into some underbrush. The bird that had warned Fluttershy gave another sharp whistle, and then it too took off into the surrounding forest, abandoning the travelers to their pursuers. The aircraft circled the area briefly, doing a circuit around the crashed bomber, and then dropped something from under its wing before it boosted away.

Despite Fluttershy’s warning, the party prepared themselves for an explosion and Twilight raised a magic shield. But just as she had suggested the object plummeted through the forest balcony and hit the ground with a dull, non-explosive thud. Its head was a weighted spike that pierced the ground several feet deep, and everything above it was a fan of rods, antennae, and sensory bulbs.

It immediately reminded Twilight of Crabapple’s first body; the recon automata that had landed on Sweet Apple Acres about a year ago. She was about to say so, and announce several alarmed hypotheses around this observation, but Dest proved to be faster.

The bark of a boltgun thundered through the trees, and the device was torn apart at the stem that connected the weighted base with the sensory instruments on top. Shards of metal and glassine splashed across the forest floor, and a jet of sparks blasted from the jagged wound.

“Augur buoy,” Dest hissed. “They’ve been scattering them throughout the forest since the bombing stopped.”

“Well, aren’t they well-prepared?” Serith grumbled. “That fighter wing didn’t have enough time to return to a base and redeploy. Evidently this is standard equipment for these forces.”

“What exactly does that mean? What’s an augur buoy?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“It means that Pinkie Pie needn’t worry about giving us away with the Contemptor Dreadnought,” Dest said grimly, “it’s quite redundant at this point.”

“Woo hoo!” Pinkie kicked the Dreadnought’s head into the air, and then leapt up into the assault walker’s neck. Her bright pink tail vanished into the massive gorget, and then the helmet fell down into place over her.

“So, they can see us?” Rarity asked, staring up at the treetops anxiously.

“They can detect us, and surely they can approximate our location to some degree,” Serith said. “The data they’re receiving may not be sufficient to guide strafing runs or establish missile locks in the absence of visual contact, but it will greatly simplify tracking us down.”

“It would be enough for another, more narrowly targeted bombing attempt, too,” Dest said. “Pie!”

A deep rumble came from the Contemptor’s engine, and the walker pushed itself up to its feet. “Ready!” The twin-barreled butcher cannon lifted into firing position, and a tiny squirrel-like alien fled from the ammo hopper and raced up a tree.

“Sparkle, wherever you’re taking us, it had better be close!” the pilot barked.

The sound of more aircraft came from above; many engines this time, rather than a single pair.

“Let’s go! Hurry!” Twilight shifted into a hover again, a mop of Chrysalis’s seaweed-green hair hanging over one shoulder pad. Her friends galloped past her, followed by the Dreadnought.

“Incoming! Scatter!” Dest commanded as the aircraft soared over them.

Autocannons thundered as several heavy fighters fired blindly through the treetops, gouging holes in the trunks or shredding the heaviest branches. Several rounds made it to the forest floor uninterrupted, blasting dirt and underbrush into the air but failing to come particularly close to hitting any targets. The fighters quickly pulled up and peeled away, and the buzz of their engines were soon drowned out by even larger ones.

“Here comes the bombing run! Everyone take cover!” Twilight warned, turning around and watching the sky.

The whistling of falling bombs came from behind the party, but the sound was soon swallowed by the crash of their explosions. Light pulsed through the trees, and leaves were blasted off the dirt from the rush of hot air. Trees close to the hearts of the explosions buckled and fell over, carving large gaps in the forest canopy while the detonations marched closer and closer to the pirates.

“Twi? Ya gonna put up a shield or somethin’?!” Applejack shouted nervously while the ground trembled underhoof.

“Something, yes,” Twilight remained in place, hovering a foot above the ground with her eyes fixed skyward.

The bomber flew overhead, and another high-explosive bomb dropped out of its ordnance bay. Twilight’s horn casing lit up with purple light, the circuit paths pulsing. Two more bombs hit ground on either side of the party, blanketing them with thunderous noise and gusts of hot dust. Twilight didn’t budge, her visor bracketing the great black warhead falling toward her.

“Got it!” With a violet flash, a beam leapt from the tip of Twilight’s horn casing to the bomb. It stopped plummeting, wrapped in a purple glow, and hovered uncertainly in the air.

“Pinkie! Hit it!” the armored Princess ordered, breaking her magic spell.

“Ka-booom!” Pinkie sang, levering the Dreadnought’s butcher cannon upward.

The cannon discharged a single shot, punching clean through the bomb and nearly tearing it in half. Then the bomb detonated, blasting a wash of flame in all directions and ripping apart many of the topmost tree branches. The ordnance wasn’t nearly high enough to pose a threat to the aircraft passing overhead, but it was high enough that the explosion didn’t pose a risk to those on the ground, either. The nearest trees shook and swayed, unsettled, but quickly steadied themselves rather than falling over.

More bombs crashed to the ground ahead of the party while the bombers completed their run, the noise continuing to roll through the forest in a pounding cacophony. Dest stood up from his cover, boltgun still in hand, and swapped his visor mode to look for heat signatures.

“… We’re safe, for the moment. Good work, Sparkle.” He mag-locked his gun to his thigh. “The bombs should badly disrupt the augur scanning briefly, and the bombers likely have to rearm by now. You’ve bought us several minutes, at the least.”

“UuuaaaAAAAAGH!” A groan came from the body on Twilight’s back, slowly rising to an inarticulate snarl. “WHAT is all this NOISE?! Can’t a Queen get a nap in on this wretched vessel?”

“Hey, Chrysalis survived after all! Cool!” Rainbow Dash said cheerfully. “I knew a lascannon or… uh… ten wouldn’t stop her for long!”

Chrysalis slowly lifted herself up, lost her balance on Twilight’s back, and then fell onto the ground with a yelp. “Gah! What’s going on? Where are we?”

“We’re on Ulaisse’s surface, being hunted down by Imperial patrol teams,” Serith explained calmly while he walked past the Queen. “Sparkle, lead the way. We’ve already lost too much time.” A pair of fighter craft roared by overhead, punctuating his warning.

Chrysalis glanced up, and then pushed herself upright. “What happened to the transport?”

“Destroyed. We will have to find some other means to escape this world,” Dest admitted.

“What? How will we do that?” the changeling asked, swaying slightly while the fog slowly lifted from her thoughts.

“We probably can’t. But finding immediate respite from our foes would at least give us the opportunity to dream up unlikely possibilities,” Serith said.

“Are all your missions like this?” Chrysalis asked bitterly, her wings buzzing to lift her off the ground and carry her after the others.

“The part where we’re surrounded by enemies and badly outnumbered is quite common, yes,” Rarity replied. “Usually we have a better idea of what near-impossible task awaits us before we can go home, though.”

“Look out everyone! Planes are coming around again!” Pinkie shouted, suddenly turning to shield Suuna with her melee arm.

Autocannon shells and cluster rockets sliced through the treetops above, sawing across the forest floor and spreading blasts of flame in a wide area. Twilight raised a dome shield this time, grunting as several heavy rounds and a single rocket warhead slammed into the barrier. Another rocket struck Pinkie in the shoulder, and Suuna flinched away from the blast of heat and sound of shrapnel clawing against heavy armor.

“Hey! Watch it, bozos!” the party-loving pony shouted, whirling about and swiveling her butcher cannon upward. A full salvo rattled the weapon as it chased the fighters through the branches overhead, but the shot was way off. The aircraft peeled off from their strafing run, gaining altitude in preparation for another pass.

“Is there anythin’ ya can do about those daggum planes?” Applejack groused as the group started moving again. “We’re like apples in a barrel down here!”

“We already tried fighting them! It didn’t go well!” the Princess retorted.

“It wasn’t that bad! We got seven! Eight, if you count the one that flew off after Serith and Trixie messed it up!” Rainbow countered. “I’m good for one or two more!”

“No! Rainbow, we can’t get separated again! We’re almost there, I promise!”

“They’re coming around for the next pass,” Dest warned, again taking cover next to a tree.

“Let them come,” Chrysalis announced, her eyes flashing green and her core pulsing a bright crimson.

Rarity and Fluttershy scrambled away as the Changeling Queen started to grow. Her legs extended and thickened, and then twisted around as the joints developed a new articulation. Her torso swelled upward and outward, and gun barrels popped out of both shoulders before missiles started sprouting from her chest in neat, boxed rows.

“That… is not a real Defiler variant…” Serith pointed out dumbly as the crab walker lifted itself up on its four scythe-like legs.

Two quad autocannons swiveled about on either side of the Defiler’s torso, and the gold-trimmed head of the assault walker craned upward. Targeting beacons flickered to life before Chrysalis’s eyes, and as one of the fighters reached attack range her systems confirmed a target lock. The missiles stacked in the central torso extended, preparing for launch.

The battery unleashed its munitions into the sky, slicing through the branches high above. The staccato pounding of the anti-air cannons was followed by the scream of dozens of missiles rocketing up into the air in sequence, leaving a long trail of contrail smoke through the forest. Autocannon fire crossed back the other way, but only a few made it to the crab-legged walker.

The lead Thunderbolt fighter shook violently as it ran headlong into a web of explosive shells, its armor plating folding inward and tearing from the impacts. The missiles reached it before it could alter its attack run, and a string of warheads tore into the fighter’s underbelly, gutting its frame. The Thunderbolt began to spin in the air and lose altitude while trailing fire and scraps of metal. The two fighters following it peeled off, avoiding a second salvo of missiles that missed the lead aircraft and sought new target locks.

Chrysalis stopped firing, and the many scattered shell casings started to disintegrate into sparks of bright green. The damaged fighter smashed into a tree, jarring it loose from the ground and sending the blazing aircraft spinning off further into the forest.

“I think I prefer fighting from the ground to fighting in the air,” Chrysalis mused to herself before a fuel explosion lit up the section of forest behind her. Once the roar died down, she swiveled about to look down at Dest. “How many of them are left? I can keep this up for a little while, I think. The autocannons sting, but much less than those lasers.”

“Huh… the enemy fighters can pick out a daemon engine very easily for an attack run, but perhaps if you shifted back and forth between forms to confuse their targeting…” the pilot glanced at Serith.

“No! Look! We’re there!” Twilight announced, dashing ahead of the others.

Beyond a wall of smaller trees and brush that had been plowed over by the downed fighter, was a wooden building. It wasn’t overly big, but was definitely larger than a typical woodland cottage while still being small enough to sit comfortably between the larger trees planted at each corner and obscuring it from above. There was a courtyard with a plain wooden fence partially overrun by vines and shrubbery, and a marble statue that had presumably been quite charming before a flaming jet engine had crashed through it.

The ponies bolted for the structure, with Pinkie Pie gently scooping up Suuna in her Dreadnought’s hand to carry her over the scattered flame and debris. The Iron Warriors hesitated, staring at the skull above the double-door entrance surrounded by a golden halo emblem. Their delay was short-lived; neither had any qualms about despoiling a shrine of the Imperial Cult with their presence, and it was surely the most substantial shelter currently available.

“Get inside! Hurry!” Twilight leapt the fence to get into the courtyard, but the barrier was demolished a moment later by a massive steel claw as Chrysalis scuttled after her.

“Can’t we wait for them to try another attack run? I want to knock down a few more of their fighters,” the Changeling Queen asked.

“We already underestimated the defenders once and you almost ended up smeared across the forest floor for it,” Twilight retorted, jumping into the air and hovering about to face the enormous daemon engine. “Engage Nemesis lock. Core configuration alpha-two.”

“What? HEY!!” Chrysalis shouted in anger as she felt the rush of power from her chest choke down to a veritable trickle, and then she began to shrink. “You could have just said no!”

“I think the door is locked,” Rarity announced, her magic aura tugging uselessly at the large double-doors that made up the entrance.

The thump of heavy greaves against the dirt came from behind her, and Applejack raced past the unicorn. She lowered her head and crashed into the doorway, crushing the reinforced timbers and smashing the door apart.

“Ain’t locked no more!” the farmer announced, shaking off the dusty splinters. Then she stepped inside.

“I take it you’re not expecting the Imperial hunting teams to miss our path of retreat,” Serith quipped.

“I don’t think they’re going to miss where we’ve been so far, and a Dreadnought isn’t going to be hard to track beyond that,” Twilight replied, heading into the building. “Now let’s see what we have here…”

The interior of the building held a shrine. Small benches were arranged in irregular rows across a rough wooden floor, positioned so those sitting on them faced an altar at the end of the structure. Upon the altar stood a worn stone statue of a faceless woman bearing a halo and wings, with her arms wrapped around a sword. Candles were scattered across the interior, mounted in wall receptacles or clustered on tin dishes, but none were currently lit. The only light in the room filtered in from the rows of high windows on either side of the shrine and the new opening where the front door used to be.

“Well, this is… cozy,” Rarity said anxiously, grimacing at the décor. “I’m not so certain this roof can weather a bombing run, though. Twilight, are you sure this place is safe?”

The alicorn stood just inside the entrance, staring. A ghostly figure, body warping and indistinct, was creeping across the floor toward the altar. Glancing at her compatriots, Twilight could tell none of the others saw it; while the figure was moving in full view of the party, they were all looking around at the décor or the altar statue.

“Well? What now, fearless leader?” Chrysalis grumbled, glaring down at the young Princess. “This looks like the end of the line, to me. Care to undo the core lock again?”

Dest, Serith, and Pinkie Pie were the last ones in, with the Contemptor Dreadnought tearing out part of the wall to gain entry. Equinought Squadron fanned out around Twilight, searching for some clue as to their salvation. Trixie waited uncomfortably in a corner, her visor’s gaze pinned on the floor and her armor shifting every few seconds.

Twilight watched the apparition reach up to the altar, extending a wispy hand to the handle of the sword in the statue. Then the vision vanished, blown away like smoke in the wind.

She walked up to the altar, rearing up and bracing her forelegs on the front. Then she craned her head around to see behind the sword. A small wedge of rock stuck out from the back of the pommel. Even on close observation it was impossible to distinguish it from a decoration or stray imperfection that ended up hidden from the viewers due to the way it was carved. Yet when Twilight pushed against it with her telekinesis, the wedge moved and then clicked into place.

“Meep! What’s happening?” Fluttershy yelped as the floor started to tremble and the sound of machinery came from the back wall.

“Is that… a secret passage?” Rarity asked, gaping beneath her helmet.

The statue and many of the wooden slats it rested on slid backward, along with a good portion of the wall behind the altar. Beneath the receding flooring was a tunnel sloping downwards. It looked like it had been dug mostly by hand with little but some wooden planks sitting on the ground to aid footing, but it was at least as old and well-used as the shrine itself, and it was large enough to accommodate Pinkie’s walker.

Twilight turned around. “Our exit. Or… entrance, rather. We are still in the first half of our mission, after all.”

“A smuggler’s tunnel,” Dest said, stepping down the incline. “Excellent. This surely leads somewhere useful, assuming it hasn’t collapsed since it was last in use. It will also sharply cut down the degree of firepower our pursuers can bring to bear on us. I will lead.”

“Great! Everybody inside, quickly!” Twilight said, beckoning into the tunnel. “Pinkie, you take up the rear. If we need to collapse the tunnel behind us or something everyone will already be clear.”

“Roger that, Boss Mare!” Pinkie Pie chirped, her Dreadnought slamming a hand into its helmet in salute.

“Miss Trixie, hurry,” Serith said, waving on the unicorn before turning to Suuna. “You too, slave. We have little time to spare.”

Suuna flinched, as she had been studying an offering dish on the side of the shrine. It didn’t have any coins in it – which made sense if this was a front for a smuggling operation – but rather contained several bracelets, beads, and hand-crafted charms. Many of the objects weren’t particularly interesting, but one had caught her eye: a brass amulet with a predator’s head at one end and a worm-like body extending from it and curling to form a crescent.

Her gaze lingered on the amulet, and Suuna frowned. And then, after a moment, she turned away. “Yes, my lord. Right away.” She briskly walked past the Sorcerer to catch up with Trixie, who had already dropped into the gloom below.

Pinkie’s walker twitched to the side as the sound of approaching jet engines started to reverberate through the walls. Placing a metal finger to the lipless mask of her assault walker, the party pony made a sharp “SSSSSH” noise and then crept into the tunnel after the others. Her every step sent a pounding thump through the floorboards, but soon even the Contemptor Dreadnought vanished into the darkness.

A series of clicks came from the altar, and then the statue and floorboards slid back into place, sealing the tunnel entrance.

Author's Note

This was actually done a while ago but I commissioned a super cool dogfighting scene from EZTP but he got sick so (not COVID, thankfully) it wasn't ready when the chapter was. Oh well! The next one is already started!

EDIT: Picture's done and added :pinkiehappy:

Be safe out there and get your shots!

Sanctuary

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 7
Sanctuary

Harvest of Steel
Deck E-661 – Strategium Tertius

“The last pockets of resistance have been snuffed out. We’re allowing the enemy to set up defensive lines in the underhive, but I do not anticipate any further counter-attacks within the hive city. The leadership has been decapitated and the population properly terrified.”

General Harlin gave his report through a flickering holoscreen, tapping at a dataslate and occasionally mumbling to someone out of sight. Sliver loomed on the holoscreen above him, waiting silently, while Kaelith’s numerous glowing optics lit up the screen below. A larger holoscreen tallied the results of preliminary scans and compiled inventories, updating frequently as Scavurel teams on the ground marked material for capture and salvage.

“Situational: Material recovery is proceeding at 112% of average operating speed. Explanatory: Additional capacity was brought online to compensate for earlier delays. Analytic: Sub-optimal. Units will be more vulnerable to sabotage and error due to accelerated timetables,” Kaelith droned.

“You keep your crewss from committing error. I will protect them from ssabotage,” Sliver interjected. “I am rotating combat patrolss through the operational ssalvage ssitess and enhancing our guard within the city. The entrancess to the underhive are being thoroughly mined as we sspeak. You will ssee no internal interference.”

“What of external threats, Lord?” Harlin asked. “When we assaulted Xenith, there were several armored divisions redeployed to another region as a ruse. They may regroup and launch a counter-attack while we’re spread throughout the hive interior, perhaps bolstered by the other hive cities’ forces.”

“They may indeed. You will leave that prosspect to me, General,” Sliver replied.

“Projection: Allowing for the possibility of extant confounding factors, likelihood of operation success within optimal parameters is 83.19%,” Kaelith buzzed.

“Excellent,” Solon announced, turning to a screen that showed the fleet’s formation. “I am currently organizing the material onboarding and our eventual withdrawal plan. When the firsht Shcavurel-“

The door to the strategium hissed and slid open, and Solon halted. He glanced behind him and saw that there were a pair of Iron Warriors striding purposefully into the room.

“… Ish shomething the matter?” the Warsmith asked. Neither of the Chaos Space Marines were officers, so he wasn’t sure why they would be interrupting his conference when any important news should have been transmitted to him directly.

Solon got his answer when the Iron Warriors parted. “This little one demanded to speak to you, Warsmith,” grunted one of the soldiers. “Should we return later?”

Spike stood at the Iron Warriors’ feet, smiling anxiously with a scroll of parchment clutched between his claws. He waved awkwardly at the armored behemoth and then pointed to the scroll he was holding.

“It sheemsh we have a report from the expedition shquad,” Solon announced, swiveling back to the holoscreens. “You all have your objectivesh; shee to them. Thish raid ish almosht complete.”

“Of course, Warsmith. By your leave,” Harlin bowed, and then his screen winked off.

“Mission update concluded; terminating uplink,” Kaelith hissed before his screen also disappeared.

Spike approached while the other Iron Warriors turned around and left. Solon beckoned him toward the strategium projector podium.

“Now then, what do we have from Shparkle? Good newsh, I hope?” the Warsmith asked.

“Not good news,” Spike admitted. “In fact, pretty bad news. Real bad.”

“Did Missh Rarity die?” Solon asked immediately.

“NO!” Spike snapped, green flame puffing from his nostrils, “But it’s not looking good, and they need you to send a new transport to go get them!” He wagged the scroll at the hulking cyborg sternly, as if he might swat Solon with it.

“A new transhport? What happened to my Thunderhawk?” Solon asked.

“Twilight says they had some issues on approach and got shot down, but managed an emergency landing. The Thunderhawk didn’t make it,” Spike unrolled the scroll.

“Foolish to rely on the cloaking field alone to ssee them to the infiltration point,” Sliver hissed. “A diverssion or key ssabotage could have kept Imperial augurss fixed on the fleet. Perhapss then you could have even ssent additional unitss to ssupport.”

Solon and Spike looked up at the glowering helmet in the holoscreen.

“… Shliver, wash there shomething elshe you wished to shpeak with me about? We can resholve it before I addressh the expedition,” the Warsmith offered.

“No. No, there iss nothing at the moment,” Sliver said, glancing off-screen in a manner probably meant to look nonchalant. “I’ve already relayed my orderss, sso I thought I would hear what it iss you’ve ssent the equiness into thiss time. An expedition, you ssaid? It sseemss like a needlesss rissk.”

“Princessh Shparkle inshishted on thish misshion,” Solon explained. “I gave Equinought Shquadron all the asshishtance she requeshted.”

“You didn’t even ssend the Techpriesst with them!” Sliver scoffed accusingly.

“Missh Gaela is shtill being repaired! And you know the other Techprieshtsh don’t lishen to the poniesh!” Solon protested.

“That would be your excusse, wouldn’t it? You don’t even expect your sservantss to follow your orderss unlesss they feel like it!” Sliver growled, his voice rising dangerously.

“Wait, how did you know Gaela isn’t with Twilight?” Spike asked suddenly, pointing at the holoscreen. “I thought everyone always assumed they were together all the time now.”

“I… I have accesss to the noosspheric duty rossterss, of coursse,” Sliver said, trying to sound stern but failing. “I needed to enssure that I… I could deploy a sstrike force, if necesssary! Sso I wass… checking on them.”

Solon and Spike stared at the holoscreen silently.

“I need to reconfigure ssome patrol routess,” Sliver said suddenly, turning away from the screen in embarrassment. “I leave thiss matter to you, Warssmith.”

“Okay,” Solon said awkwardly before the holoscreen winked off.

“So. Anyway.” Spike coughed, returning his attention to the parchment in his hand. “Dear Solon, I hate to request additional assistance so quickly, but the situation on Ulaisse has deteriorated. On approach, the Thunderhawk was detected and shot down by Imperial patrols. We managed to escape into some tunnels and are trying to pursue our original objective, but Planetary Defense Forces know we’re here. No contact with any refugees so far. We require another plan for extraction. Sincerely, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Detected? By what meansh? Imperial augur arraysh have never been able to pierce my cloaking fieldsh, even the archaeotech sensoria!” Solon insisted.

“I don’t know what that means, but it doesn’t say exactly what happened,” Spike admitted.

“Pen a reshponshe and shend it back. I need further detailsh if the extraction team ish to avoid the shame fate,” Solon ordered. “If she hash any other data, shuch as geo-coordinatesh or potential landing pointsh, she should relay them ash well.”

Spike started shuffling through a bag of writing supplies while Solon summoned several new holoscreens.

“If I can get a broad regional location, I can inshert Chryshalish before shending a larger extraction force,” Solon mumbled, tapping away at the squares of refracted light.

“Uh… yeah, about that…” Spike winced. “She’s already down there.”

Solon paused, his armor-plated index finger hovering over a slowly rotating ident-rune. “… How?”

“She left with them. Twi sent me a message right after they left the Harvest and warned me that if they get back and Chrysalis isn’t with them then we need to screen everybody to make sure she didn’t kill and replace someone.”

Solon mulled that over for a few seconds. “She’sh become much more cynical and shushpicioush of late.”

“Heh! Yeah, she kinda has, huh? Twilight’s had sort of an edge to her ever since she lost her eye.” Spike chuckled lightly, trailing off into an uneasy silence. “So, uh, can you rescue her?”

“Potentially, yesh. We have a great many toolsh at our dishposhal, and the Imperialsh, dogged ash they are, have little idea what they’re dealing with. But it ish the will and ingenuity of the sholdier that will shee them to shaftey.”

“Maybe the refugees can help?” Spike asked.

“Maybe. Or maybe they will be a burden. Or shomething worshe.”

“Something… worse? I don’t… I don’t really understand,” Spike admitted.

“Thingsh may be ash shimple ash they sheem: a cruelly pershecuted people on the run from tyrantsh and Inquishitorsh. Or there may be better reashonsh for their plight than we imagine. The preshence of an artifact certainly doeshn’t shuggesht thingsh are shimple, but I don’t know.”

“What… What should we do?” Spike gulped.

“Get her location and ash much data ash you can about where she’sh going,” Solon ordered. “I will give her the chance to eshcape Ulaisshe. But her shurvival ish in her handsh now. Erm, hoovesh.”

“Yes, Sir!” Spike barked, saluting stiffly and then scampered over to a table with quill in hand.

Ulaisse – smuggling caverns

Dest crept toward the intersection in the tunnel, his nerves on edge and his talons extended and ready for combat.

Pebbles cracked constantly under his greaves, betraying any serious attempt at stealth. The pilot’s armor was grafted permanently to his flesh, which allowed for his movement to be somewhat more natural and fluid than mundane Space Marines without the rattling of loose shoulder padding or squeaking joints. Still, his sheer weight crushed the ground flat with every footstep, and these tunnels funneled noise particularly well. He could easily hear the even heavier footsteps of a Contemptor Dreadnought far behind him, for example.

Reaching the corner, he pressed one hand against the wall and leaned out, glancing down the tunnel to his left. The tunnel was pitch dark, but that was no impediment to his vision. Every granular detail was rendered perfectly through his visor, albeit presented in a crimson monochrome. He wasn’t sure if that was a feature of his modified armor or the daemon in his head, but he didn’t bother to question it; the daemon in his head rarely had a useful answer for such questions.

Seeing nothing down the left tunnel, he peered down the right. This route was just as empty, but that tunnel narrowed sharply before curving further. Such a route wouldn’t accommodate a Dreadnought, which made the decision simple.

Dest reached an arm back, and then summoned a puff of flame into his palm, letting it burn out immediately. Almost immediately, he heard the distinctive din of galloping power armor racing up the tunnel behind him. A few seconds later, a floodlight beam splashed against Dest’s back, illuminating much of the intersection and casting a vicious-looking shadow against the tunnel wall ahead.

“Nothing so far?” Twilight asked as she reached earshot.

“No. Taking a left at this intersection. Log the turn,” Dest commanded before moving ahead.

“We been movin’ fer an hour now. How far does this thing go?” Applejack grumbled. “Ya said these were smuggling tunnels, right? People bringin’ black market widgets and such?”

“Correct. With such a heavy security presence in the city and in the air, a smuggling network has to make quick deliveries far from the hive and then swiftly take the goods underground before an air patrol picks up on it,” Serith explained. “I’m certain the local elite pay very well for such service, which the scoundrels invest back into their business. Surely you realize that they don’t navigate these caverns on foot, don’t you?”

“You’re saying they drive through these tunnels?” Chrysalis asked, squinting at the ground to see if she could find some tracks.

“I am. There’s a reason there’s sufficient clearance in here to accommodate the pink one.” Serith paused briefly before speaking up again. “That may have to do with our leisurely progress so far; we’re not moving with great speed, yet our pursuers haven’t caught up with us.”

“Maybe they got lost? There are a surprising number of detours and intersections in here,” Rarity reasoned.

“Our trail is not difficult to follow,” Serith countered, “but while it is easy to track a Contemptor Dreadnought, neutralizing one requires equipment that may not be readily available. They will wait for heavier support or proceed very cautiously as they track us. But make no mistake: they ARE tracking us.”

“Yeesh, if I’d known it was going to be such a hassle just to get around in it I would have just left it at home,” Pinkie grumbled, her Dreadnought’s vocalizer booming through the tunnels.

“Eh, if we definitely have bad guys on our tails, then I’d rather be easier to find but have the Pain Train and a shape-shifting monster with us,” Rainbow declared.

“Daaaaaash! Don’t call it the ‘Pain Train!’” Pinkie whined.

“Also, don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Chrysalis added sharply.

“Do you mind being called a shape-shifting monster?” Twilight asked.

“Not really, no,” Chrysalis admitted, “but it bothers me when it seems like you don’t care.”

While the others bantered, Rarity glanced over at Trixie and Suuna. The human woman was as quiet and resolute as ever despite the terrifying circumstances she had been dragged into. It couldn’t have been easy to recover from a transport crash and a bombing raid without so much as a helmet, and Rarity imagined that Trixie surely regretted bringing her assistant along.

While the former slave rarely said much, the same obviously wasn’t true of Trixie, and Rarity almost gasped when she realized that the magician hadn’t spoken since they escaped the bombing raid. Was the other unicorn shell-shocked? Overcome by regret? Stewing in frustration and helplessness? Rarity could understand any one of those reactions to the catastrophe that had followed their approach to the planet, but they all seemed quite uncharacteristic of the boisterous magician.

“Trixie, darling, are you well? You’ve been awfully quiet,” Rarity finally remarked.

The magician slowed, turning her head to meet the bright pink glow of Rarity’s visor. Trixie’s expression was hidden beneath her helmet, of course, but the motion seemed hesitant.

“Trixie…” she paused and ducked her head, and Rarity could imagine her grimacing beneath her helmet. “Trixie just hopes we reach these refugees soon. This is not the adventure that Trixie…” again, she paused, and then shook her head. “That Trixie had in mind.”

“Well, if I may say so, I’m glad you did come along after all,” Rarity said solemnly. “I don’t think Serith and I would have been able to save us from crashing on our own.” A weary sigh issued from her vox grille, and then she tilted her head to the side. “Speaking of which… far be it from me to complain, but… what exactly did you DO back there? My horn still stings a bit from whatever it was.”

“Trixie just… hm?” The magician perked up her head and stopped. Dest was walking toward them into the light, his bolter drawn.

“The tunnel opens up ahead into a larger series of caverns. There’s some old construction but much of it looks like recent improvised excavation. We’ve found the underhive,” growled the Rhino pilot.

“That’s great!” Twilight said brightly.

“It is not great,” Dest retorted, much to her surprise. “The approach is mined. There are bodies, too. Not fresh, but not that old. Most didn’t die to the mines.”

“Ah, more unexpected defenses! Lovely,” Chrysalis sniffed. “Do you have a rapport with these ones, Sparkle, or would you like to unlock my warforms again?”

“I… I don’t, no. But if we can meet with them and talk before anyone kills one another I’m sure they’ll listen to reason!” Twilight insisted.

“Could you identify the faction of the corpses?” Serith asked.

“They were Imperial… mostly,” Dest grunted. “The others I couldn’t tell. Badly mangled, and their equipment was looted. They were all human, however. They’re not defending this entrance against Orks.”

“Perhaps our smugglers had an unfortunate run-in with our refugees,” Serith mused.

“Wait, what? Wouldn’t all the criminals be working together?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Perhaps, but it’s just as likely the smugglers would turn them in. The smuggler breaks the law for fortune, the refugee for survival. Presumably the smugglers’ main clients are the nobility who wish to bypass the capital’s heavy security, and refugees rarely have much money. It would be quite characteristic of smugglers to sell tips on fugitives to some Captain of the Adeptus Arbites for a bounty or a pardon.”

“In any case, let’s see what we’re dealing with,” Twilight said, slowly lifting up off the ground. “Dash, you’re with me. We’re going in elevated, and try not to touch anything. The rest of you approach with Dest in case we need some support, but be careful not to expose yourselves.”

Rainbow let out an excited whoop and jumped into the air, swiftly jetting past her squad leader and zipping down the passage.

“Hey! Dash, I said with me! Slow down!” Twilight yelped as she sped after the pegasus.

The others watched the pair disappear into the darkness, and then Dest gestured to the rest of the group.

“Keep a careful watch on our rear. Lord Serith, if you could take point,” the driver requested.

“Why me? Am I to search for any psychic signs of occupants?” the Sorcerer asked, stepping up to the other Astartes.

“That would be helpful, yes. Mostly I just wanted to ensure that any snipers would waste their opening shots, as your head is not a vital point. I saw several areas that would make ideal fire points.”

Serith offered a disgusted snort, but didn’t object further before continuing ahead of the others.

“Anythin’ we should keep an eye out fer?” Applejack asked.

“Yes. Any opening, crevice, stray box, or vent should be checked for ambushers,” Dest explained. “We are not alone in these tunnels, but the enemy may yet fear to face us directly. A surprise attack is their best, and likely only, chance of victory.”

“I thought we were here to save the people in these tunnels or something. Did that change because they laid out some traps?” Chrysalis asked.

Dest didn’t answer right away, heading back down the tunnel after giving Serith an extended head start. “… We are here to save them,” he said eventually, “but that doesn’t mean you can let your guard down. Something about this feels… wrong. I don’t have much more to offer than that.”

“Frankly I think we’ve had more than enough danger for one mission, but it would be terribly irregular if things started getting any better before we’re back on the flagship,” Rarity sighed.

“Just stay sharp and stay close to the walker,” Dest retorted. “Assuming Sparkle’s sorcerous communications worked, you’ll be back to troubling the Warsmith soon enough.”

Rainbow Dash shot out of the mouth of the tunnel and cut her boosters, moving into a hover so she could better observe her surroundings.

The cavern network ahead was massive, with the tunnel exit opening up into a much wider hall space that continued along the same route until it reached an expanded plateau. Bridges were placed on the edge of the plateau at several points; one of them was a heavy, reinforced crossing, but many others had been improvised from spare cables, poles, and slats of wood or scrap metal. The bridges extended over a deep breach in the cavern floor going every which way. Some of them linked the plateau to other broad stone platforms, but others tilted up toward crawlspaces in the cavern ceiling or down into secondary platforms positioned in the breach. Some of it was unlit, leaving vast sections of the complex cloaked in darkness, but there were a surprising number of lumens set up in the area to illuminate the paths.

Rainbow spent a moment marveling at the cavern, but then brought her attention to the area she was hovering in. The hall was roughly twenty feet wide, with numerous alcoves drilled into the walls. The alcoves were mostly empty or filled with trash – filthy blankets, wrappings, or rusted metal bins – but a few hosted dead bodies. A large construction lumen was pounded into the ceiling, casting the entire length of the hall in a dim glow that was more than sufficient for Rainbow’s light-enhancement visor, but the central beam of light was aimed squarely at the middle of the hall ahead. Right under the beam, obvious enough that any mundane wanderer would have noticed them, were numerous small metal disks scattered across the path.

“Dash! C’mon, be more careful!” Twilight complained as she flew out of the tunnel and joined the speedster. “If I can’t see you, I can’t summon a shield or anything if we need it!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Rainbow chuckled as she floated out further. “Check this place out, though! Never seen anything like it!”

“I have. There are underwarrens in Ferrous Dominus that bear a resemblance to this. Although those were entirely carved by macro-drillers and mining pony teams. These caverns look mostly natural,” Twilight explained before her visor shifted downward to the mines. “Although the traps we have in the underwarrens are MUCH less conspicuous than this. Gaela would be embarrassed if she saw.”

“Do you think this is some kind of trick?” Rainbow asked, looking further down the hall. “Like, we laugh off the mines so that we end up tripping something later?”

“Possibly. OR it’s a highly visible warning that this area is protected and its occupants are armed, to try to scare off intruders,” Twilight mused. Then she turned to look at the corpses stuffed in the alcove next to her. “It’s probably that first thing, though.”

“So how do we continue? I don’t see any other traps. Should I just jet out there and fly a few laps to see what happens?” Rainbow asked.

Twilight frowned under her helmet, and the pykant circuit running through her horn case lit up. A cloud of violet fog gathered around her head and then blasted forward, trailing flickering sparks. The fog spread across the length and breadth of the hall, sweeping across the entire space before emptying out into the cavern beyond.

Rainbow tilted her head to the side. There were numerous glittering sparks hanging in the air behind the wave of magic fog, sitting in long lines. Most hung low to the ground, but there were a few more that stretched at an angle, crossing from a point on the wall to one on the ceiling.

“Tripwires,” Twilight mumbled. “I think it’s safe to say the mines were a distraction, then.”

“Wow. Where did you learn to do that?” Rainbow Dash asked with an impressed whistle.

“The underwarrens again,” the Princess said. “Although honestly, I was expecting laser trips like we had there, not physical wire ones. These smugglers seem have a lot of mechanical equipment, but perhaps not the more sophisticated technology or expertise.”

“Wonder what kind of trap it is,” Rainbow mused, her shuriken catapult leveling its aim downward.

“Well there are only so many… WAIT DASH DON-“

A flurry of monomolecular-edged blades shot through the hall, and several of the wires snapped with a sharp twang.

The ponies were more than twenty feet away from the traps, so Rainbow was confident that whatever was lying in wait had plenty of room to lash out at nothing. Twilight was not so confident, and a violet energy shell flashed in front of them just before a series of rapid snapping noises rang through the cavern.

Several needle-tipped metal shafts shot out of hidden spots in the alcoves, whipping across the hall to embed in the other wall. The projectiles resembled simple crossbow bolts, albeit without the fletching to stabilize them in flight. Instead the spikes had thick metal cylinders welded onto the back end that sizzled dangerously from a fuse coiled around it.

Twilight yelped and turned around in the air to flee, but there wasn’t enough time. The explosives detonated, blowing large holes in the earthen walls while blasting the surrounding area with shrapnel. Several mines also went off as a result, blasting craters into the path ahead. The explosions in turn ripped apart several more tripwires, and several more explosive spikes shot through the hall.

“Okay, this is a little much!” Rainbow shouted as the metal arrows lodged in the floor ahead and burned down their fuses. “Good call on the shield! I didn’t-“

One arrow shot at the upper edge of the barrier, glancing off and flipping over and behind it. Twilight’s panicked noises became a terrified shriek, and the barrier flickered as her concentration strayed.

Rainbow didn’t waste any time, shifting her flight pack to spin in the air. One leg lashed out, striking the explosive spike and sending it flying back into the tunnel they had emerged from.

A few seconds later a bright light flashed from the tunnel exit, followed by the sounds of crashing metal.

“Well… that could have gone worse?” Rainbow said with a nervous chuckle.

Twilight was thinking up something appropriately scathing when an ident-tag flashed on her visor. Serith emerged from the tunnel and strode into the hall, walking purposefully toward the mares with his force halberd in one hand. The other hand was missing. The power armor for his left arm was missing up to the elbow sleeve, and the plating that remained was warped and blackened from a recent explosion.

Serith stopped in front of the flying ponies. Then he sharply turned his helmet left, and then right, as if searching the area.

“I detect no snipers or ambushers,” the Sorcerer said loudly, as if he was speaking to nobody in particular but wanted everyone to hear. Then his blood-red visor fixed on Rainbow Dash, who was hovering right in front of him. “However, there are OTHER hazards in our path, it seems.”

Rainbow quietly hovered further away until she was slightly out of polearm range.

After several seconds the others emerged from the tunnel as well. Dest came out first, his boltgun in one hand and Serith’s dismembered arm in the other.

“I knew it was wise to have you take point,” Dest mused, his voice carrying just a slight tone of amusement. He held up the armor piece to the other Iron Warrior, and with a glance from Serith it floated up out of his hand.

“Well, this entrance seems to be… well-protected,” Twilight said while Serith reassembled himself. “At least as far as the temporary measures go. I haven’t seen any indication of a living defender, and if any were around they would have surely noticed us.”

“So where do we go from here? place is huge!” Rainbow exclaimed.

“The entrance to the underhive is there,” said Dest, pointing to one of the larger bridges. “There’s a vault door on the other side of the cavern that would lead to the outer complexes. If we can open it without damaging it, it may be an effective barrier against pursuit, as well.”

“Don’cha think it’ll be defended like this spot is?” Applejack asked.

“I do. I recommend Lord Serith take the lead again,” Dest replied. He walked further down the hall and then kneeled down, gingerly picking up one of the mines that hadn’t yet detonated. “Anti-personnel mines. Not even an STC pattern. Basic powdered charges with simple mechanical triggers. These traps are dangerous, but crude. A far cry from the sort of equipment we dealt with topside.”

“That’s… good, right?” Chrysalis asked.

“Somewhat. Our enemies aren’t likely to have sufficient ordnance to remove a Dreadnought, which is nice,” Dest snorted. “But I’m sure they’ll have something more clever waiting for us as we close in on their den. Whoever ‘they’ are, of course.”

Rainbow flew out ahead of the others, flying a recon circuit of the caverns. It was a lot of space, and not all of it was well-lit. Piles of old construction materials sat in one area almost completely untouched by the lumens, while a large section of mostly empty plateau was illuminated by several overhead beams that had obviously been oriented that way on purpose. That area had several stalagmites and discarded metal slats that would have provided decent cover were a firefight to break out. There were also several bodies laying on one side of those barriers, surrounded by bullet holes and laser scarring, suggesting that the cover wasn’t as decent as it appeared.

Another bridge led from that shadowy battlefield to a vast wall made of plate metal and rockcrete. A huge vault door was built into the wall, easily tall enough for a walker twice a Contemptor’s size. Huge metal braces and clamps were mounted along the edges, all of which were in surprisingly good condition. Rainbow decided that if anybody used this passage, then they didn’t do it by force.

“First time for everything!” she chuckled before spinning around to face the rest of her squad.

Rainbow flew back to the others, noticing that most of the ponies were surrounding Twilight. The young Princess had a scroll floating in front of her; apparently she had received a communication from the flagship while Rainbow was doing reconnaissance. Serith and Dest were studying one of the alcoves on the wall, poking at a dead body there. Trixie and Suuna were hanging behind the others, quietly watching the entry tunnel where they had come from. Chrysalis stood apart from the rest, waiting eagerly at the edge of the hall for Rainbow’s return.

“Well? What’s out there? Do you know who we’re fighting yet?” the changeling asked.

“Bunch of rocky dark spots, more dead people, and then the vault door,” Rainbow Dash slowed to a hover and shrugged her shoulder pads, causing the chain of bolter shells to rattle. “No sign of whoever left the traps as far as I could tell.”

“You said dead people. Who?” Chrysalis demanded.

“More Imperial soldiers, I think. The bodies were obviously looted though, and I didn’t move in for a close look,” the speedster answered.

“Tch! If we can figure out who rules these spaces, then I could disguise myself as one of them,” Chrysalis grumbled. “That would give us an edge in talking them down from hostilities… or an edge in suddenly escalating them, depending on what we find.”

“That does sound like a good idea, actually. But I don’t think you want to take on the forms of the guys riddled with bullet holes down there. They don’t like those guys.”

“It seems our fugitives don’t have many friends,” grunted Dest, joining them. “Upon closer inspection, I believe some of these bodies belong to the smugglers as well.”

“Isn’t it more likely the soldiers and smugglers were fighting each other?” Chrysalis asked.

“I would not expect the winning side to stash their dead alongside that of their enemies,” Serith explained as he followed the Rhino pilot. “Smugglers are tight-knit, and tend to be less violent and more sentimental than most other criminal networks. They would not want to leave more evidence behind, either. I am confident this is the work of a mysterious third party.”

“Then what do they need a rescue for? Looks like they’ve got this handled,” Rainbow asked.

“Did you already forget how we were welcomed here?” Dest asked.

Rainbow grimaced under her helmet. “Right, right... So then my next question is how come they lasted this long when the Imperials could squash them at will?”

“Difficult to say. We know nothing of how far-reaching the Imperium’s patrols are or how long since they’ve begun. But the ultimate conclusion can hardly be in doubt; this is not a world where it is possible to sustain military resistance against the Loyalist dogs,” Serith sneered. “Eventually the Imperium will dig in the right place or the fugitives will slip in their retreat. Once that occurs these hapless souls are finished… unless we carry them out of the Imperium’s reach, of course.”

“Sparkle, are we ready to proceed?” Dest barked, turning toward the other ponies.

Twilight was scribbling on a sheet of parchment, grumbling to herself as she tried to sketch a coordinate map over the tunnel network they’d followed so far. “There has to be some way to adjust this spell to send data packets as well as vellum… okay, I think that will do it. For now, anyway. I can’t really predict where we’re going to surface when we get out of here.”

“Where do we go next? There’s a lot of different paths down here,” Rarity noted.

“There’s this big vault down this way just past where a bunch of people got shot to death, mostly in the back,” Rainbow Dash said, pointing a leg toward the largest bridge. “I think that’s the best path!”

Rarity cringed. “Are there… any other options?”

“Unfortunately, there may not be. The vault should lead into the underhive. The other paths likely lead to various surface exits where the smugglers bring their wares,” Dest explained. “We do not have the luxury of exploring the tunnel network extensively. We have to get as deep as possible before the Imperial pursuers catch up.” Then he looked over at Serith.

“I’m not taking the lead again,” the Sorcerer snapped. “Make the Dreadnought do it!”

“If we’re being ambushed or led into a trap it would endanger the rest of us to have our path obscured by the mass of a Dreadnought wreck,” Dest pointed out. “What if Sparkle unlocked the changeling’s abilities again and she turned into a Dreadnought and led the way?”

Chrysalis perked up. “Yes, I can… wait, you just explained why that was a bad idea!”

“Presumably you would shrink to a more manageable mass after you expire,” the Rhino pilot said, shrugging. “Or not. Either way, Pie shouldn’t take point.”

“Why don’t YOU lead us, driver?” Serith sneered. “Surely the imbecile coiled around your soul could sniff out any hidden assassins before they trouble those of us behind you.”

Dest paused for a moment, turning his head away from the others. “Yes.” A few more seconds passed. “Who did you THINK he was referring to?” He flexed his free hand irritably, the talons growing visibly longer from frustration. “He’s not even here!”

Applejack groaned as Twilight finally sent the message, the scroll vanishing in a burst of purple light. “Twi, Ah think the big guys’re gettin’ antsy. We should get a move on.”

Twilight didn’t respond, and slowly turned her head away. It looked like she was watching something in the gloom, but Applejack couldn’t see anything there. Switching through visor modes did nothing. The area Twilight was watching looked completely empty.

“Er… Twilight? Ya there?” the farmer asked.

“Just a second,” the alicorn mumbled back, still watching absolutely nothing.

A ghostly form moved through the darkness of the caverns, slowly creeping alongside one of the smaller maintenance bridges. Its body was a white, mist-like shape that roughly approximated a human, and it seemed to glow in the shadows once it left the patches of light spread by the old lumen banks.

It reached the end of the bridge and then dashed across the ground toward a massive pile of construction supplies. Twilight suddenly broke into a run, racing to the edge of the massive canyon that the bridge spanned.

“Lady Sparkle, is something amiss?” Serith asked.

“Did you spot someone?” Dest demanded, bringing up his boltgun again.

Twilight kept staring. For almost a minute she stood silently, head lowered, watching the massive pile of piping, rebar, and dusty rockcrete blocks. Then she raised her head and turned around.

“I found a way through,” the young Princess announced.

“What? How?” Chrysalis demanded.

“There, under that huge pipe.” Twilight created a tiny globe of light at the end of her horn, and then floated it down the path, like a violet firefly. “I think it’s a secret entrance. The vault path is a trap, or at best it will take us away from our objective.”

The magical light landed on the surface of the pipe in question, illuminating it slightly better for the group. It was at least 15 feet in diameter, with rockcrete construction and a cage of rusting metal layered over the outer surface.

“That explains the ‘what’ but not the ‘how,’” Chrysalis pointed out.

“Does it matter? Sparkle was right about the shrine. Let’s check this secret passage of hers before stepping over the next pile of corpses,” Dest volunteered, walking past the changeling.

“It matters to ME,” Queen Chrysalis griped. “We’re not being chased by aircraft this time, so I think we could spend a moment to talk about it.”

“Lady Sparkle was the only one who received this cry for help via psychic transmission,” Serith explained. “She also, somehow, received knowledge of its precise geoplanetary coordinates. It is hardly beyond possibility that the message planted other clues in her mind.”

“Do you think it’s… wise to trust it?” Rarity asked anxiously.

“It would have been wise to stay on the other side of Ghessheim V, inside the flagship, and let these treacherous fools butcher each other as they see fit,” Serith replied, “but as that is no longer possible, navigating a secret passage left by desperate witchcraft is our least-bad option. Lady Trixie! Slave girl! Hurry!”

Trixie and Suuna jerked to attention at the Sorcerer’s command, and then quickly followed him past the rest of the ponies. Suuna hesitated slightly as she approached the bridge, watching her power-armored compatriots make their way over it, but after it failed to buckle under the train of heavy armor she followed along.

Chrysalis huffed and jumped into the air, her wings buzzing noisily. The other flying ponies followed, speeding over the gorge the separated them from the pile of construction supplies. Pinkie was the last to cross, the maintenance bridge straining under the weight of her Contemptor shell. The span held, however, and soon she stepped off onto hard rock flooring again.

Dest walked over to the pipe and looked inside, scanning the interior with his boltgun at the ready. “Pie. Illuminate this.”

A floodlight moved behind Dest, filling the interior of the pipe and casting a long, spine-riddled shadow along the bottom. Several scuttling creatures hisses and scattered from the lumens, rushing out the other end of the tube. Dest briefly tracked them with his gun, but held his fire.

“… I think I see it. There’s a hole down here, large enough for a human,” the Rhino driver explained, stepping into the pipe.

“Then it would seem Lady Sparkle is correct again,” Serith said, glancing over at Chrysalis.

“I didn’t say she wasn’t! I’m just suspicious,” the changeling grumbled. “I don’t like it when solutions are just… given out of the blue like this. I prefer to work for my intelligence.”

“Stealing it, you mean,” Rainbow Dash corrected.

“Stealing can be a great deal of work,” Chrysalis replied, not obviously offended by the accusation. “Besides, we’re all pirates now, aren’t we?”

Dest stepped out of the pipe and gestured to Pinkie Pie. The Contemptor Dreadnought joined him, and then seized the edge of the pipe with its power fist. Dest took hold of it on the opposite edge of the opening circumference, and with a grunt they started to move it.

Stone cracked and dirt shifted as the enormous cylinder was rolled out of the spot it had occupied for years. Squeaks and hissing came from the darkness, and more local animals scurried away from the disturbance and into adjacent cracks and crevices. One such creature – a long, black thing over a meter long that moved on dozens of legs – scuttled toward the rest of the explorers before slipping into a crack in the ground. Rarity yelped and flinched back at its approach, and Fluttershy cooed gently at it before it vanished.

“A little more,” grunted Dest, his greaves digging into the rock underfoot. Augmented muscles pulsed under the plates of armor, and his armor sleeves bulged at the joints as his body shifted to meet the demands of the task at hand.

Applejack fired her gravity lash near the top of the pipe, and the zero-point engine within her tail armoring hummed louder as she added her own effort to shift the pipe aside. Several rock outcroppings in the way cracked apart, and the massive cylinder rolled another few meters away from its initial resting place. Dest sighed and finally stepped away, and Pinkie Pie gave the pipe a solid smack on top as if she was setting it in place.

“There! Look!” Twilight beamed some magic light over the long, shallow trench where the pipe used to sit. There was an opening near the middle of the cylinder’s length that had clearly been made deliberately and carefully; the mouth of the tunnel was ringed with a metal frame to protect against corrosion and damage, and a ladder of the same material extended downward. The tunnel entrance was also much wider than the hole made in the construction piping, which was a relief to Pinkie Pie.

Before anyone could warn her otherwise, Rainbow Dash arced up into the air and dove straight into the hole.

“Hey! Dash, stop! Did you already forget how many traps were set up in the last entrance?” Twilight complained.

“Relax, Twi!” Rainbow shouted from below. “This is the special secret entrance! Nobody traps these th-“

Her reassurances were cut off by a sharp bang and a vox-distorted shriek.

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Chrysalis said while she stepped past Twilight Sparkle, “aside from the noise, this seems like a perfectly good way of clearing obstacles.”

“Shut yer fanged yap ‘fore we make you scout out the next bit!” Applejack snapped. Fluttershy quietly rushed past her, leaping down into the tunnel to rescue the other pegasus.

“Wait for me, Fluttershy! Everyone else, wait until I give the all clear!” Twilight galloped to the tunnel, light spilling from her horn to illuminate the way. Then she jumped into the hole, her flight pack spreading behind her.

“Uhhhhn… okay… maybe I deserved that,” Rainbow Dash groaned, lying in a heap. Shrapnel was lodged into her side and left foreleg plating, still smoldering from the explosives.

“Dash! Don’t move, okay? Let me check your injuries,” Fluttershy said, floating down the passage and scanning the other mare with her visor. “You have two breaches under your wing and one in your leg.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Rainbow hissed. “The other ones are no big deal, but that leg wound cut kinda deep.”

“What happened?” Twilight dropped down from the tunnel, and then bobbed in the air above the metal flooring. “Did you see what hit you?”

“Yeah, barely,” Rainbow sighed as Fluttershy lifted her leg, the small servo claws unfolding from her chest plate. “It was some kind of bulb stuck onto the pipe. It didn’t even look like a bomb or have any wires or anything! How was I supposed to know it was a trap?”

“Set your visor to composite analysis scan and then concentrate on anything suspicious,” Twilight replied. “Explosives come in all different types, but they use very similar engineering patterns: charge, fuse, detonator, and casing. Your helmet cogitator can recognize them easily.”

Rainbow waited quietly while Fluttershy carefully extracted the metal shard from her leg. “… OR, I can let you take point from here on.”

“That was my FIRST suggestion, while you were still blasting ahead of everyone!” Twilight huffed. Then she tapped her vox link. “All right, the immediate area is secure. You can join us now. Just don’t wander off down here.”

Twilight was expecting the others to descend via the ladder, and thus she was quite startled when Applejack suddenly slammed into the floor behind her. The metal walkway groaned underhoof, and the scaffolding above and below rattled loudly.

“Hmmm…” The farmer stood up straight and looked around. The hole above dropped into a wide tunnel, where a series of heavy metal slats formed a path suspended above the tunnel’s bottom by a web of construction rigging that was drilled into the surrounding stone. Lumens were built into the topside scaffolding, and though their intensity had dimmed with age, they still kept the area lit much better than the caverns above.

“So where’re we now? This some kinda sewer?” Applejack asked.

“I think it would have been, with a few more months of construction work,” Twilight said. “These dimensions suggest this area was being excavated for a pipeline and it extends beyond the underhive periphery. My first guess would be a waste pipeline.”

Rarity descended the ladder gingerly, her greaves awkwardly mag-locking to each rung as she made her way down. “I suppose it would be too much to hope for a service elevator in a secret entrance, wouldn’t it?” she griped.

“Is that flooring stable enough to hold the Contemptor?” Dest asked. He was sliding down the side of the hole opposite the ladder, his claws dragging down through the bare stone surface to slow his descent.

“It’s fine,” Applejack said, slamming her boot against the walkway repeatedly. The plating didn’t buckle, but Twilight cringed as the scaffolding rattled and creaked all around them. “Just give us enough warnin’ to get outta the way!”

As Dest dropped to the floor and started to look around, Serith descended after him. The Sorcerer was free-falling with Trixie carried in his arms, his cape fluttering above him. At the last second, less than a foot from Serith’s greaves striking the walkway, a rush of air suddenly blasted out all around him and the psyker’s plunge was suddenly stopped. Serith stood up straight, still floating just inches off the floor, and then walk down onto the flooring as if he was getting off the last step of a stairway.

“Thank you, Serith,” Trixie said calmly, hopping out of his arms.

“I am ever at your service, Lady Trixie,” Serith murmured.

“Once we’re all here we’ll proceed down the walkway. But watch out for traps!” Twilight warned.

Serith turned around to face her. “It is not merely traps that may impede our path, Lady Sparkle. We are no longer alone here.”

“You sense others?” Dest asked.

“Yes… quite a strange clutch of minds, at that,” the Sorcerer mused. “They are not quite as… afraid as they should be.”

“Why should they be afraid? Ain’t we here to rescue them?” Applejack asked.

“Of course, but they probably don’t know that,” Rarity replied.

“Far be it from me to judge the security disposition of a band of refugees and outlaws,” Dest grunted, “but as a rule when power armored reavers barge into your secret tunnels, substantial fear is warranted.”

Suuna reached the walkway and quickly stepped away from the ladder to join Trixie. A giant spider – coal black in color, with a patch of aqua over its head – scuttled down the opposite wall and crawled out onto the ceiling of the tunnel. In a flash of green light Chrysalis reverted to her normal body, dropping down and flipping upright to land on her hooves.

“Look out beloooooooow!!”

Pinkie’s Dreadnought hit the walkway in a crouch, and the slat of reinforced metal wobbled dangerously. Loud creaking came from the scaffolding below as it flexed under the strain, but ultimately the shaking stopped and the Contemptor stood back up.

“Okay, we’re all here. Serith, where did you sense other people?” Twilight asked.

“Down the path, where it narrows.” Serith pointed down the tunnel. The walkway appeared to head straight out in both directions without any turns, but further out the lumens had been removed or broken, cloaking that section in darkness. “They’re clustered there. And aware… I believe it’s some manner of checkpoint.”

“I see more of those bombs, too,” Rainbow Dash grumbled while she stood back up. She tested her wounded foreleg, and then gave Fluttershy a grateful nod. “Don’t wanna get close to those metal bulb things.”

Twilight focused on one such trap, and her augmetic bracketed the object. It was only a bit larger than a hand grenade, and had a bulbous outer casing that tapered to a small, rounded point that appeared to be some sort of sensor. The other end was stuck to a handrail and secured with tape. The bombs were obviously constructed out of scrap metal, and much of the body had been hammered into place and welded from dissimilar and poorly-shaped alloy plates.

“Huh… It says the trigger is ‘electromantic.’ Never seen that one before,” Twilight mused.

“Those types of proximity sensors are used specifically to protect against sophisticated combat systems and automata without detonating due to local fauna,” Dest warned. “Vox systems, many augmetics, some advanced weapons, and, of course, power armor all generate sufficient magnetic fields to trip them. They are harmless to unprotected and unaugmented humans or random animals.”

“How fortunate, then, that Lady Trixie thought to bring her servant!” Serith chuckled. He pointed his force halberd down the walkway. “Slave, you may advance. Remove the explosives, and then disable them. Surely there’s a switch you can use or detonator you can remove.”

Suuna looked alarmed at the request, but Twilight swiftly interrupted. “OR… I can just pick them up with magic and get rid of them without anybody touching them at all.”

Twilight’s purple aura flowed around her horn and then engulfed the distant bomb. It quivered briefly, and then the tape securing it to the railing ripped away. The trap flipped around in the air, exposing a tiny red indicator lumen and a button. Twilight’s magic depressed the button, and then the lumen winked off.

Detonator inert

“I stand corrected,” Serith grumbled as Twilight floated the bomb into a crevice in the tunnel wall. “It would seem there was no point in bringing her along at all. Simply one more body to be lost within this doomed labyrinth.”

Trixie made a noise that sounded vaguely like agreement and walked past Serith, moving to join the others. Rarity and Twilight were removing the charges from their path while Applejack stood between them, searching carefully for any other hazards. Once the unicorns dispensed with the traps immediately ahead, a beam lumen in Applejack’s armor cowl clicked on, shining a light further down the tunnel.

“Armored door. Ah see weapon slots,” Applejack warned.

“Serith, are they behind there?” Twilight asked while disarming another bomb.

“Yes. And they’re quite alerted, as well,” the Sorcerer said.

“So what do we do? Should we have Chrysalis go talk to them?” Rainbow asked.

“And say what? None of us have even seen these creatures; I have no idea what to say to them!” the changeling barked.

“Would Lord Serith not be the ideal choice? If he can get close enough he can read their thoughts more precisely,” Dest pointed out.

“Darling, having seen Serith’s attempts at diplomatic engagement, I can confidently assure you he is not ideal,” Rarity quipped.

Twilight considered their options, and then turned up her vox system’s caster volume.

“GREETINGS, REFUGEES FROM THE IMPERIUM OF MAN!!” she shouted, her voice booming through the tunnel. “WE COME IN PEACE! I HAVE HEARD YOUR PLEAS FOR ASSISTANCE FROM ACROSS THE SYSTEM, AND AM HERE TO HELP! PLEASE OPEN THE WAY FOR US!”

Several seconds passed. Then a vision slit on the door opened up. A second later it slid shut again.

“I don’t know who you’re supposed to be, but you don’t look like you’re here to help us!” cried out a voice from behind the door. “Turn around and come back where you came from! There’s nothing here for you!”

Despite the content of the reply, Twilight perked up considerably upon finally hearing one of the individuals they were presumably here to rescue. “Please, excuse the wargear! It hasn’t been a quiet journey!” She chuckled to herself. “I received a vision, a message, from someone here! I know the Imperium has been pursuing your people and you’re on the brink of being hunted down and wiped out! We can save you!”

There was no response for several seconds. Then the barrels of lasguns and autoguns poked through the firing slits in the door, aiming down the walkway.

“Twi, Ah don’t s’pose yer magic visions told ya how to deal with twitchy, unfriendly guards, did they?” Applejack mumbled.

“No, unfortunately not,” the alicorn said regretfully.

“What, you can’t simply befriend them?” Chrysalis sneered, grinning. “Isn’t that supposed to be what you equines are best at?”

“We are! But the friendship angle would be much easier without a door and several guns in the way.” Twilight pointed a boot toward the end of the tunnel. “Pinkie, could you help with that?”

The others parted as Pinkie’s Dreadnought stomped down the walkway, the scaffolding shuddering with every step.

“Don’t worry, guys! We’re gonna get you out of here and leave those meanie Imperials behind and then we’ll get back to the ship and have a big happy welcome party and we’ll be BEST FRIENDS!” the Dreadnought boomed as it approached, its vox caster giving Pinkie’s voice a decidedly malevolent edge.

The guns set in the door opened fire, spraying slug rounds and low-intensity lasers against the encroaching walker. The small-arms fire spanked harmlessly against the Dreadnought’s leg and torso armor, and Pinkie made a tsking noise that transmitted very poorly out of the Dreadnought’s helmet.

“Hey now! Blind-firing down a hallway is dangerous! Not to me, but maybe Suuna, I guess.” She stepped up in front of the doorway and reared back her power fist. “Knock, knock!”

The sound of scrambling feet came from the other side of the barrier, and then Pinkie’s fist smashed into the door. It bent inward, the metal shrieking under the stress of the impact, but ultimately held. Pinkie simply braced the Dreadnought’s legs and dropped its shoulder, and then made a second push into the massive armor plate.

The hinges snapped, and the door fell forward with a heavy thud. Pinkie Pie pushed into the next room, swiveling left and right to take in the new area. Men in dirty clothes and ramshackle armor were scrambling away from her, clutching their weapons. A barricade made of old crates and garbage stood ahead of her, and a woman wearing a gas mask hoisted a missile launcher resting atop her shoulder.

Pinkie slammed the Dreadnought’s foot onto the edge of the fallen door, flipping it up in front of her. The krak missile blasted across the room and slammed into the much-abused barrier, ripping it in half and spraying hunks of metal shrapnel across the Contemptor’s front.

“Hello! I’m Pinkie Pie!” she chirped, waving the Dreadnought’s power fist while bits of the blasted door still rolled across the floor. “We come in peace!” The butcher cannon levered downward, aiming squarely at the woman with a missile launcher.

She froze at the sight, but the other gunmen in the room raised their weapons at the Dreadnought. None opened fire again, grimly aware of how badly they were outgunned by the siege walker, but they still tracked the pink Dreadnought nervously while it walked forward to clear the entrance.

“Okay, everyone just calm down!” Twilight said, entering the room from between the Contemptor’s legs. “We’re not here to fight! We’re here to save you!”

The defenders seemed appropriately subdued before the Contemptor Dreadnought despite its unorthodox colors, glittering colored charms, and the bizarre balloon decorations drawn onto its armor plating. Upon seeing a pony in full power armor emerge and speak to them, however, most of them seemed perplexed. More of the four-legged pirates stepped into the room, every one of them encased in power armor of varying design.

Finally, a trio of Iron Warriors entered: One with a cape and a halberd, another with strange servo-limbs tipped with blades, and a third in less elaborate power armor holding a chainsword. The defenders shrank back from the armored giants immediately, lowering their weapons and murmuring to each other. The woman at the barricade placed her empty rocket launcher at her feet and then addressed Serith.

“Astartes? Here? What do you want with us?” she demanded.

“I want nothing with you,” Serith sneered. “Lady Sparkle is the leader of this fool’s errand. You will listen and obey.”

The defenders looked over the intruders again, and one of them pointed past the Chaos Space Marines to Suuna, who was standing behind them. “Is that… Lady-?”

“Lady Sparkle is me,” Twilight announced, coughing and tapping a boot against the ground.

“Is… Is this a joke?” one man asked.

“I personally find it most amusing that a band of miniature horses have evaded the grasp of the Imperium, infiltrated the most heavily defended world in Ghessheim, and stormed your defenses to force this confrontation,” Dest said with the very barest trace of mirth in his voice, “but no, it is not a joke.”

“We don’t have much time,” Twilight pressed. “I heard you were in danger. Is this true?”

“W-Well… yes,” the woman admitted awkwardly. “Uh… and you’re… here to help us? Really?”

“I am!” Twilight stepped ahead of the others, and the defenders backed away nervously. The seams of her helmet popped open, and with a pulse of violet magic her helmet lifted off her head. “I heard a cry for help echoing through the Warp! It told me where you were and that you were being hunted down! We have a fleet with us, and if we work together, we can get your people to safety!”

“’Safety’ being a relative measure, of course,” Serith added. “You will find little comfort or mercy upon the Harvest of Steel. But we’ve come this far, so we may as well-“

“Lord Serith, didn’t you say I was in charge here?” Twilight asked, her voice far sweeter and higher-pitched than normal. “If you want to be the leader you just have to say so~!”

The Sorcerer fell silent and began quietly studying the construction of the bunker’s wall.

“… Okay! Now, as I was saying.” Twilight attached her helmet to her gorget and stepped closer to the barricade. “There was someone here who transmitted a message into my dreams. I don’t think he was a psyker himself. He used… something else to do so. Some kind of artifact. Does that ring any bells?”

“Byron,” one defender said immediately. “That’s got to be Byron, right?”

“You’re serious? You mean it worked?” mumbled another.

“Byron? Is that his name?” Twilight interrupted, “and he’s the one using an artifact to send psychic messages?”

“It’s got to be him.” A different gunman shook his head. “We couldn’t send any other transmissions because it would help the Imperial kill teams find us and they’d just jam it anyway.”

“We didn’t even know who to send it to; none of us knew that there was a fleet in-system,” someone else pointed out. “But Byron kept saying that there was another way. That he could find someone else…”

“Byron was right,” Twilight said, “can you take us to him?”

The woman nodded reluctantly. “Well, if you wanted us dead you certainly didn’t need to go to the trouble of tricking us first,” she turned around and snapped her fingers. “Get that door back into place and rig up some more mines! I don’t expect our rescuers strolled into the underhive with a fragging heavy walker without anyone noticing!”

She gestured to the intruders to follow, and then headed deeper past the barricades at a swift pace. The rest of Equinought Squadron followed eagerly, racing past the ranks of gunmen. Dest glanced at Suuna, and then they followed behind the Contemptor Dreadnought. The silent Iron Warrior trailed after them, barely following within earshot of the main group.

“My name is Erin Whyd, by the way,” the woman grunted as she led the way through the underhive tunnels. She was dressed in torn fatigues extensively patched with many old scraps of other clothing, and had a dusty shawl around her neck and shoulders. Her hair was thin and black, and mostly wrapped up in her shawl. Her respirator mask covered the lower half of her face but left her eyes exposed, betraying her unease as they darted from one power armored visitor to another.

“Hello, Miss Whyd! I’m Princess Twilight Sparkle, from Equestria! I’m here on behalf of the Iron Warriors 38th Company!” Twilight said brightly.

“What are you, though?” Erin asked before the other mares could introduce themselves. “And why are you commanding Astartes?”

“I’m a pony!” Twilight volunteered. “And I don’t command them, really, but I’m taking the lead on this particular mission with them!”

“You’re a… pony. A miniature horse,” Erin said, clearly skeptical. “A purple miniature horse, that can talk, and has a horn on its forehead.”

“And wings!” Rainbow interrupted. “Some of us have wings, too!”

Their guide didn’t look any less flustered at this information, so Dest spoke up. “They are a mutant species of equine-like creature found on a remote frontier world. They bear some physiological resemblance to Terran horses, but it may be a coincidence born of similar evolutionary circumstances.”

“Xeno abominations,” Erin grumbled.

“Yes. But we find them rather pleasant,” Dest replied.

“Awwww, we like you too, Desty!” boomed the Contemptor Dreadnought, much to Erin’s discomfort.

The group exited the main tunnel leading to the defensive checkpoint, and then stepped into another cavern. This space had been excavated by machine and reinforced to prevent cave-ins, but hadn’t obviously been developed much beyond that. Huge support columns and beams cut through the cavern, and sheets of scrap metal had been placed to make a path over the rough-hewn stone flooring. Shacks and tents were scattered across the cavern, while the walls – some 40 feet high – had alcoves drilled into them large enough to serve as living units. There were a number of people here squatting around cook fires, hauling objects to and fro, or lounging at the mouth of their homes. They wore rags or dirty street clothes that were in the process of becoming rags, and every one of them stopped to gawk at the convoy of heavily armed pirates stomping through the middle of their community.

“Even for an underhive slum, this is pitiful,” Dest remarked. “Those wretches at least enjoy the luxury of a functioning power lattice. You’ve barely managed to keep this place alight.”

“That’s true, yes. Circumstances were never kind to us, and recently they’ve become much worse,” Erin griped. “We’ve had an explosion in population, and a concurrent increase in attention by the Imperial defense forces. Resources are more scarce than ever, and we can’t easily scavenge without risking attention by patrols.”

“How many of you are there?” Rarity asked.

“Recently it changes every day one way or the other, but right now, in this colony? About sixty people. Two weeks ago it was less than half that.”

“That’s not too bad. Two Thunderhawks could carry that many, right? Maybe three?” Rainbow asked.

“What do ya mean ‘in this colony?’ There other camps down here?” Applejack asked.

“Yes. Many others,” Erin confirmed. “We know the location of a few other groups, but I have no idea how many there are. The underhive is vast, and it’s linked into a network of cavern complexes and smugglers’ tunnels as well. And this isn’t the only half-finished hive ruin on Ulaisse hosting mobs of Imperial refugees and cast-offs, either.”

“Sounds like you’ve got an army of your own, jus’ about,” Applejack remarked.

“As if,” Erin snorted. “We rarely coordinate or work with the other groups. Tensions are high, supplies are scarce, and many camps have more guns than rations and good sense. But even if we could mingle for more than a day without someone getting robbed or killed, even if we could unite – all of us – against the Imperials hunting us down, we still wouldn’t stand a chance against them.”

“She’s correct,” Dest grunted, slowing to glower at a man who seemed to be sneaking up behind the procession of guests. “Look at how easily we overcame their defenses. They are not capable of repelling a determined assault upon their slums.” The man shrunk back and then slunk away toward the wall without explanation. “It’s a wonder you’ve survived for this long.”

“Part of it has to do with being well-hidden, but honestly the Imperium only started making a serious effort to hunt us down recently,” Erin admitted.

“Why is that? What happened?” Twilight asked.

“Byron can explain it when you meet him, I think,” the refugee said, “but what matters is that the Imperial defense forces are launching more expeditions every day, and every time someone fends them off they return with tenfold the number and firepower. We trapped the vault entrances, we’ve picked off scouts, we’ve collapsed tunnels, we’ve reduced the number of scavenger teams… it doesn’t matter. Eventually they’ll get here, too. Just a question of whether they gun us all down on the spot or ship us to the mines on the fourth planet.”

“By the time they get here you’ll all be long gone,” Twilight insisted. “We’ll get you out of here.”

Erin stared down into the firm, sincere gaze of the purple pony, and then looked back at Dest, a power armored giant covered in vicious blades.

“Get us out of here… to where, again?” she asked cautiously.

“We have a fleet. We care nothing for the crimes you may have committed against the Imperium of Man. And we have ample need of laborers,” Dest rumbled. “Your time amongst the 38th Company would not be easy, but we grant you that choice against the certain fate of being hunted and defeated by Imperial forces.”

“We can save you,” Twilight said. “Perhaps… Perhaps not all of you. We didn’t know what we’d find down here and escaping Ulaisse may not be easy. But we will help as many of you as we can.”

Erin looked bewildered, but then her eyes softened. “I… I’d like to agree. But I can’t speak for anyone else here. I’m not in charge.”

“Is this Byron person in charge?” Rarity asked.

“No. We’re led by Lady Nacellus. She’s the one who established this haven for refugees and ran the supply routes to the smugglers. We mainly have her to thank for surviving this long,” Erin explained.

“I see. Well, let’s meet with Byron first, and then we can speak to Lady Nacellus,” Twilight proposed. Then she twisted her head around to address the rear end of the procession. “And when we do, PLEASE keep your snide comments to yourself, okay Serith?”

Twilight waited for a response, but didn’t get one. “Lord Serith?” She couldn’t see the Sorcerer from where she was, and she turned around completely and walked over to Pinkie’s Dreadnought to check behind it. “Serith? Where did Serith go?”

“Who’s Serith?” Erin asked.

“He’s the other Iron Warrior who was with us,” Applejack explained. Then she glanced at the Chaos Space Marine standing silently behind Dest. “Er, the third, Ah mean.”

“I only remember seeing two Astartes,” Erin said.

“You don’t remember Serith? Twilight addressed him by name when he interrupted her to talk to you,” Rarity reminded her.

The refugee furrowed her brow. “I… that sounds right… but… urgh!” She suddenly placed a hand to her forehead and leaned against a support column, wincing.

“Okay, yeah, he definitely snuck off on purpose,” Rainbow Dash grumbled. “Did anyone else see him?”

“I’m not sure when Lord Serith left, but Mistress Trixie is also gone,” Suuna volunteered.

Erin shook her head and stood up straight, glowering down at Twilight. “Is this some kind of trick? Are they Imperial spies?”

“Definitely not,” Twilight replied. “They are, however, kind of obnoxious and not QUITE as devoted to saving you all as I am. I’d really they rather not be wandering off on their own.”

“I’m not picking up their armor signums. They must still be in non-detection mode,” Dest grunted, surveying the cavern. “There are several potential routes out of here. Should we begin a search?”

Twilight shook her head. “Not yet, no. We just forced our way into here and I’d rather meet this Lady Nacellus and Byron first. Besides, if Trixie and Serith are both missing, that means they’re traveling together, and Trixie is pretty good at keeping him in line.”

“… Really?” Rarity asked after a moment of hesitation.

“Please don’t make me defend that assertion,” Twilight grumbled.

“It sounds too dangerous to leave them. I volunteer to go search.” The unnamed Iron Warrior spoke for the first time, his voice a grating snarl.

Twilight turned to stare at the Chaos Space Marine, her eyes narrowed to slits.

“Don’t worry, Sparkle. I’ll make sure to stay... close.” Without further explanation the Astartes broke off from the group and walked toward the entrance to a side tunnel. Twilight and Dest watched him go, but neither objected or tried to hinder him.

“ANYWAY,” Twilight said impatiently, “take us to Byron, please.”

“Right… this way…”

Ulaisse – underhive ruins
Geocoordinates unknown

The sound of metal greaves trotting across unfinished rockcrete echoed lightly through dimly-lit tunnel.

Trixie walked through the side passage at a good pace, stepping around garbage lying on the ground and occasionally checking behind her. This tunnel had several blockaded rooms and exits branching from it, although most of the barricades and trash piles used to seal the entrances showed signs of being recently opened. Lumen strips flickered silently above, casting a weak, inconstant glow on the path while they clung to the last few scraps of energy they had available. A child’s laughter echoed from further down the hall, sounding almost haunting in the decrepit gloom.

Trixie’s low-light visor helped her make her way to an alcove tucked away behind a half-wall of trash bags. An old, rusted hatch was on the ground there, locked down with a simple mechanical seal. The lever to open the seal was attached to the middle of a length of chain linked to either end of the hatch and held taut, effectively locking the entrance to anyone without a means to break it.

Trixie sat down in front of the hatch, and a pink glow sparked around her horn. The magic energy coiled around the spike-shaped helmet casing, and the circuitry delicately carved into the reactive shielding started to hum.

The magic aura darkened dramatically, turning from a bright pink to a bloody red. It lashed out from Trixie’s horn, quickly and quietly, and two of the links fell to pieces. The chain went slack, severed on either side of the seal lever, and now useless to impede the opening mechanism.

Trixie reached a foreleg for the lever. A blade swung down from behind her, stopping barely an inch from her shoulder pad and hovering there.

“Where do you think you’re going?” drawled Serith, holding his force halberd with one hand.

Trixie flinched away from the blade, and then scrambled to turn around. “Serith! Don’t scare me, uh, don’t scare Trixie like that!” she protested with a gasp.

“You can drop your tiresome charade, daemon,” Serith snarled, “you barely fooled the equines. I know what you are, and how you got here.”

Trixie remained silent for several seconds. “… Well, this is embarrassing,” she admitted, “I thought I had done a good job! When did you figure it out?”

“I knew what happened as soon as you breached the Warp, but I began to doubt when Lady Trixie’s behavior didn’t change immediately after the crash landing. You didn’t take her mind right away, which was clever of you. But when we entered the shrine I knew I was right all along.” He shifted the force halberd slightly, so the spike on top hovered just in front of Trixie’s eye lens. “You did well enough to hide your nature from the others, but your mannerisms ring false. Lady Trixie would never ignore casual predictions of her servant’s doom, or remain silent for such an extended period.”

“I suppose you have questions, yes?” Trixie asked, her voice shifting to an almost sultry purr that sounded completely foreign coming from the mare.

“No. I have no questions,” Serith retorted, “I have a demand: leave Lady Trixie at once, her mind and soul restored to its condition prior to your infestation. Only then will I permit you to leave this plane for the Empyrean once more.”

Trixie stared, dumbfounded. Then she started laughing. “Oh, Serith! How bold of you! You truly are our sad, lost child!” The laugh sounded completely unnatural, like the creature inside the power armor had heard laughter described by someone second-hand before and was trying to replicate the sound by barking into the helmet grille.

“Lost child, hm? That would make you a Tzeentchian,” Serith hissed. “I would have thought your kind more skilled at subterfuge and deception.”

“Yes, usually. But it takes a… special sort of spirit to reach these ponies and eclipse their heart,” Trixie chirped. “But anyway, you’re being a bit too bold, aren’t you? If you were really going to get rid of me, you would have already skewered me. You can’t threaten me with banishment when it would involve killing your little pony friend…”

“I am not threatening you with banishment. On the contrary, defiance will ensure you stay here,” Serith retorted.

“Uh… here? In this… tunnel?” Trixie asked uncertainly.

“No. Here, on this plane. Locked in the Materium, trapped within some petty item created at the whim of our Warsmith,” Serith spat. “We have torments we can inflict on daemonkind much more permanent than sundering your feeble material shells. Perhaps you can live out the rest of eternity locked in a brooch or knife, or perhaps you’ll becomes some pony’s cursed wargear. Is that fate more to your liking, wretch?”

“That would still require my violent extraction from your friend here,” Trixie said, sounding slightly nervous. “If you let me complete my task, then-“

“I care nothing for your ploys,” Serith sneered. “You have heard my ultimatum, daemon. Leave her.”

“Why try and force the issue if it would mean hurting the pony? I’m telling you that I’ll leave her after I-“

The force halberd twisted suddenly, activating its energy field with a sharp crackle. Then it pulled back, slicing its blade across the neck of Trixie’s armor. She yelped in pain as the disruption field ate through the frame and grazed the flesh underneath, and she scrambled away as best she could.

Serith didn’t let her retreat, lunging forward and seizing the face of Trixie’s helmet with his free hand. Her horn casing flashed, flooding with magical energy. His gauntlet flashed in response, draining it almost as quickly. The dispersal rods sprung from the hidden sockets in the psykant occulus, and a deep hum reverberated from the armored hand beneath the shriek of scraping metal.

“Hey! Let me go!” Trixie shouted, squirming violently against the Sorcerer’s grip. Her hat slipped off and landed on the floor next to the hatch.

Serith’s visor pulsed with crimson light, and several cracking noises came from Trixie’s helmet as the other seals came apart. Trixie lurched backward and stumbled onto her side, while Serith pulled his hand away with the mare’s broken helmet in his grip.

The Iron Warrior stared down at the unicorn in grim silence, his force halberd drawn back for another strike. Trixie’s eyes, now finally exposed to the gloom of the tunnels, had turned from their usual bright purple to orbs of gleaming pitch. Veins bulged around her horn, easily visible through her coat. As daemonic possessions went it still qualified as being subtle, but no one could have mistaken this for Trixie’s natural self without her helmet to obscure her features.

“Stop this! You don’t know what you’re doing!” the possessed unicorn yelped. Her voice rose and fell in pitch seemingly at random, as if the daemon was still learning how to use a voicebox. Blood dribbled from the steaming cut on the side of her neck, darkening her chest fur to a muddy purple.

“You have chosen defiance, then,” Serith snarled, raising the force halberd in preparation to strike. “Very well.”

“Whoa! What’s that?!”

“Ah! Is it a machine? Should we tell Papa?”

Serith turned his head at hearing the voices behind him. Two young children, both of them filthy and dressed in rags, watched the confrontation in fascination. One was crouched atop an empty crate while the other peeked around the side of the container.

Trixie didn’t waste any time, and her magic lashed out to pull the latch lever while also reaching into the confines of her hat. The hatch seal opened, and a fragmentation grenade rolled out of her hat with the pin bouncing away.

Serith lurched backward as the explosive rolled across the ground, initially unsure what kind it was given the poor resolution of his low-light vision mode. A fragmentation grenade was almost completely harmless to him, but an anti-armor charge could easily render a limb useless if he was careless. A lingering glance at the weapon confirmed the daemon’s desperate ploy: it was a frag grenade after all.

“Hey, what’s that?” cooed one of the children behind him.

Serith dropped to one knee, and then slammed Trixie’s empty helmet down atop the grenade. The explosive detonated, and the helmet jumped in the Chaos Marine’s hand. A jet of hot dust blasted out of the bottom, and both eye lenses cracked as shrapnel hammered them from the inside.

He looked up just in time to see Trixie’s cape vanish into the access tunnel, and then the hatch slammed shut.

“Whoa! Are you okay? Was that a bomb?” asked one of the children, peeking out from behind Serith’s greaves. “Uncle Byron makes bombs. Should I go get him?”

Serith stared wordlessly at the hatch entrance as he stood up again, and then he lifted Trixie’s helmet to his eye level. The broken, empty shell stared back at him.

“Mister? Hey, Mister!”

Serith calmly mag-locked the helmet to his belt, and then walked over to the hatch to pick up Trixie’s discarded hat. Finally he turned to address the children directly. “Begone, vermin. There is nothing here for you.”

The kids seemed reluctant, but they drew back and then turned away to leave as requested. They moved with surprising speed and agility once they retreated, bolting through the tunnels and hopping over obstacles without stopping. One of them suddenly jumped onto a wall and ran across the vertical surface for several seconds to avoid an oily spill, which was a curiously advanced technique for someone that Serith estimated to be maybe seven standard Terran years old.

Serith watched them go until they turned a corner and vanished from sight. He lingered, still staring down the tunnel, and then finally turned around and started walking the other way.

Ulaisse
Underhive complex Sanctus Vellum

“Look alive, people! We have guests!” shouted Erin Whyd as she pulled open a large shutter blocking the path.

A pair of men with lasguns jumped to their feet at the shout, standing firm with their weapons ready. They watched in stony silence as Erin emerged from the entrance with an Iron Warrior following closely behind her. Their expressions faltered somewhat when a train of armored ponies followed behind the Astartes. They stumbled back in alarm once the Contemptor Dreadnought ducked into the room, its massive frame barely fitting through the doorway.

“This is our medicae ward, and over there is where we try to grow enough food to keep everyone alive,” Erin said, gesturing to one side of the room and then the other. The area reserved for growing was blocked off by several small doors, but the medical center was a section of open space surrounded by dirty sheets that were held up by hanging cables and scaffolding. The sound of high-pitched wailing came from within the makeshift tent, and the ponies hesitated.

“What… What is that noise?” Rarity asked cautiously. She was unfortunately as familiar as anyone with the howls and screams of dying humans, but this sounded distinctly different.

“Another birth. Honestly, I should probably call this the natal ward instead,” Erin said wryly. “We have so many pregnancies that if anyone gets shot or breaks a bone we patch them up in the barracks instead.”

“Wait, someone had a BABY?!” Pinkie shouted suddenly, the vox amplifier broadcasting her shout across the room. “There are human babies here?! I wanna see!” The Dreadnought immediately turned toward the medical tent, dashing across the room and causing the floor to vibrate with every step.

“Wait! Pinkie, no!” Twilight shouted in alarm. “Leave them alone! Or… Or at least get out of the assault walker first! You’re going to step on something!”

The Dreadnought dug in one heel, carving a meter-long divot in the rockcrete ground before it came to a complete stop. Then the head of the walker bounced up into the air, and a bright pink pony shot out of the gorget. Erin and the guards gaped, having no idea what they were seeing.

“I, um, would also like to see the human babies, if that’s okay?” Fluttershy said, suddenly appearing in a shimmer of colored light.

“GWAUGH!!” Erin lurched back at the sight of another pony appearing near her feet, and resisted the urge to draw her sidearm. “That one was invisible?! Just how many of you freaks are there?”

“If we’re talkin’ here, in yer tunnels, then there’s just one more, not accountin’ fer Serith and Trixie,” Applejack admitted. “But there’s a lot more freaks back on the ship, o’course.”

“Another one? Where?” Erin demanded.

“Ah dunno. She’s even sneakier than Fluttershy.”

A delighted gasp came from the medical tent. Pinkie and Fluttershy were peeking under a sheet at the edge of the ward, their backsides still visible to the rest of the group. Pinkie was obviously more excited by whatever she was seeing than Fluttershy, and after a few seconds of excited cooing she pulled her head back out of the medicae tent.

“Twilight! Babies! They really have human babies here!” Pinkie said repeatedly, hopping up and down.

“Stay OUT of the medicae,” snapped one of the guards, suddenly finding his nerve to address these bizarre visitors. “On orders of Lady Nacellus, no one is allowed in there except patients and caregivers.” He stalked up to the mares, glaring harshly, and they both quickly retreated back to their friends.

Pinkie jumped up onto the arm of her Dreadnought and then started climbing up to the gorget again. “Just think, Twilight! If we take them home we’ll have a bunch of human children around! We can make a Chaos nursery!” she said brightly before jumping back into the walker. The helmet of the machine slid back into place, and then the eyes started glowing as power was restored.

Fluttershy said nothing, casting a lingering glance back at the medicae tent. Then she ducked her head down and vanished from sight again.

“Yes, fine Pinkie. That’s great,” the alicorn said wearily. “Try not to get distracted, please. We’re in a hurry.” She turned to address Erin, who looked increasingly disturbed. “Sorry about that. Please, continue. Where’s Byron?”

“He’s probably in the workshop,” Erin said. “But before we go any further I really must insist that both your mysterious invisible friends come out into the open.”

“You may insist all you like,” Dest replied before Twilight could. “With every minute you delay your eventual escape becomes more difficult and costly. You will take us to this Byron, or we will find him ourselves.”

Pinkie’s Dreadnought stepped up behind Dest, it’s colorful, charm-laden butcher cannon scanning back and forth across the room.

Erin stared down at Twilight frostily, and the alicorn nervously smiled back. “Yes, well… while your concerns are obviously justified, we really do have to get a move on. There’s a lot we still need to know if we’re going to organize a way out of here!”

“… So be it,” the refugee said grimly, finally continuing along the path. “The workshop is this way. We use it to make weapons, as you might expect.”

“Like those strange mines outside the entrance?” Rarity asked.

“Yes. They’re very useful for taking out servo skulls scouting the ruins for Imperial strike teams without closing off the routes for our own use,” Erin explained. “We heard exactly one of them go off right before you arrived, so I guess they’re not as effective against a unit of power armored intruders as we’d hoped.”

“They still sting like crazy, though,” Rainbow Dash grunted.

“My apologies,” Erin said dryly. “We didn’t actually expect anyone to come help us, or else we would have been slightly more welcoming. Honestly, we were debating whether to detonate the tunnel entirely when we realized you’d gotten past the charges that were supposed to collapse the entry gangway.”

“Why didn’t ya?” Applejack asked. “Not to sound ungrateful fer not bein’ buried under a million tons o’ rock, but Ah don’t reckon ya had much of a chance against a Dreadnought otherwise.”

“That half-finished sewer is by far our safest route to the surface and our best path of retreat if there’s an attack on the refuge,” Erin explained. “Even then, we probably would have blown it except I had the missile launcher as a first resort.”

They walked past another stretch of hallway with numerous doors. Some of them were open, with the sanctuary’s weary residents peeking or gawking at the train of armored visitors. Pinkie waved at them cheerfully, her Dreadnought’s massive power fist swinging back and forth through the air. Rarity studied the residents while they passed, her eyes lingering on each of the women.

“… The people here sure are…” Rarity trailed off for several seconds, trying to think of the best way to put it. “… fertile for a populace on the brink of annihilation, aren’t they? You said the number of births was overwhelming your medicae, and many of the other women are showing. We’re around humans a lot these days, but I don’t think I’ve seen a pregnant one before today.”

Erin sighed and nodded. “Yes. Very fertile. It’s a bit of a problem, honestly. We don’t have enough food for everyone anyway, and most of the women here are eating for two.” She lowered her voice. “On the other end of it, it also makes it bloody hard to put together decent scavenger patrols. Most of the women are in no shape to make a run and the men keep using the long excursions to knock up the ones who are. Randy dolts.”

“Well, Wyatt did say the mercs could use some fresh blood. Can’t get much fresher’n that!” Applejack chuckled.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Twilight warned. “We need to meet with this Byron person first.”

“Then let me introduce you,” Erin said, reaching another armored door and stopping outside it. “Byron! You in there?! You’ve got visitors!”

The group waited for about a minute as muffled sounds came from within the workshop. Then the heavy latch lifted, and the door opened.

A man probably no more than twenty-five standard years old peered out hesitantly, and then gaped when his eyes fell on Dest. His hair was dark red with streaks of lighter brown, although it obviously hadn’t been washed in some time. His build was average, if not a bit lean from insufficient food, and his hands were stained with machine oil. A pair of spectacles sat on his head, and he clumsily moved them down over his eyes while staring in awe at the Iron Warrior.

“Th-That… You… Then it…” the man sputtered uselessly for several seconds and stepped out of the doorway, his eyes locked on the grim crimson lenses of Dest’s visor. “You… heard me. You’re actually here. I’m-“

Dest suddenly stepped backward.

“Hi! I’m Twilight Sparkle!” announced Twilight. “I received your request for aid! I’m here to help you!”

Byron looked down at the purple pony, uncomprehending. Then he looked back up at Dest. He furrowed his brow and pointed hesitantly to Twilight. Dest nodded slightly, and then crossed his arms over his breastplate.

“I know it might seem confusing. You humans aren’t used to dealing with friendly aliens,” Twilight explained, “but we have the will and the means to get you out of here and bring your companions to safety!”

Byron continued staring for several seconds after that, and then his expression slowly broke into a smile. “This… This is incredible. It worked. It really worked! You’re here to save us! YES!”

“Yes, well, speaking of that,” Rarity interrupted, “what is the ‘it’ that worked, exactly? We still don’t know how you spoke to Twilight. Are you a psyker?”

“No. No, not at all,” Byron said, shaking his head. “I used a… well, an artifact. My name is Byron Hess. I’m a tinkerer at this refugee sanctuary. Not a tech-adept, or anything like that, but I know my way around military explosives, at least.”

“Both Byron and I are deserters,” Erin grumbled. “I was conscripted and brought to Adrast almost a solar year ago for training so I could be shipped off to die in the Imperial Guard. I… made some decisions there that didn’t sit well with the local Commissariat and I decided to take my chances in the wilds instead. Byron left more recently.”

“Ah, traitors then. I think we’ll get along very well,” Dest said, his voice a fierce rumble that immediately set the humans on edge. “But first we need to assess our circumstances. We must secure this artifact, meet your leaders, and determine how many of your people we can plausibly rescue. Assuming we can assemble an escape plan, exfiltration will be swift, and probably violent.”

“Well, you said you came from a fleet, right? Meaning you took your own ship to get here. How many can it carry?” Erin asked.

“The transport we used to make planetfall can currently accommodate zero passengers and crew,” Dest said blandly.

“We, uh, had a bit of a rough time on the way down,” Rainbow Dash chuckled.

“I… I see. Well, this isn’t precisely what I was hoping for, but it’s more than I was expecting.” Byron admitted with a weary chuckle. “Come. I’ll take you to the artifact.”

The man closed the workshop door and then led the party further down the tunnel, talking the entire time about the colony and its evacuation. His mood seemed to shift between grim anxiousness and giddy excitement sentence to sentence, in stark contrast to Erin’s consistently glum fatalism.

“As Miss Whyd said, I was part of the Imperial military in Adrast before I deserted. Unlike her I wasn’t really in particular trouble with them. I just… I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Couldn’t do what?” Applejack asked. “Until we arrived didn’t y’all spend yer time fightin’ Orks?”

“They’re the primary target for the search-and-destroy missions here on Ulaisse, yes. But that’s not what I’m talking about,” Byron said. “About a month ago. Something… Something happened. There was some kind of incident in a barracks, or a garage or something. I have no idea of the particulars, but in response the government of Ulaisse began a purge.”

“A purge? A purge of what?” Twilight asked.

“I can’t be totally sure, but the explanation we were given is that we were searching for mutants,” Byron explained. “Adrast is a high-security settlement, so there’s always been lots of randomized inspections and scans such that we capture mutants and psykers more often and earlier than most other hives. But after the incident they took it to a whole other level. Inspections were stepped up tenfold. Officers were screened daily. Raids and seizures went from a weekly affair to an hourly one.”

“I’m sorry, can we step back a moment, please? I think we’re missing some context,” Rarity asked. “What’s this about mutants and psykers?”

“The Imperium does not tolerate mutants and psykers within the civilian population,” Dest interjected. “When physically aberrant offspring are found, they are put to death immediately. The psykers… most often suffer a fate to make them envy the mutants.”

“What?! That’s awful!” Rainbow Dash sputtered. Many of the other ponies froze in shock.

“Yes,” Erin agreed, her voice bitter. “They claim it’s necessary. I don’t know, maybe it is. But often the family tries to protect an aberrant child, and so they’re dealt with harshly as well. Entire households are often summarily executed or shipped off to the mines after being torn apart, all because of a random accident of genetics.” The ponies flinched at this, and Twilight gaped.

“But it kept getting worse and more inexplicable,” Byron sighed. “The stepped-up raids never found any mutants or psykers that I’m aware of, but the families were detained all the same. Hundreds, thousands of individuals were seized for no apparent reason, and they just… just vanished. Never to be seen again. No custody trail. No prisoner logs. No explanations. The officers and Commissars were ruthless with anyone who dared to ask questions or tried to help a citizen who seemed obviously innocent. Fear and paranoia spread throughout the regiments.”

He shook his head, looking back at the visitors with a sad smile. “I knew I couldn’t help by challenging my superiors, so I left. I found a family that was to be arrested and helped them escape. I heard of a refuge in the underhive ruins and made my way here.”

“But it wasn’t enough for them,” Erin growled. “They couldn’t let us rot down here in peace. They’re coming for us, they won’t stop until every one of us is dead, and they won’t even tell us WHY.”

“Dest, do you know what could cause something like this?” Twilight asked. “At first I thought maybe the Imperial forces were agitated because of the Iron Warriors’ fleet, but it seems this was going on before we got here.”

“I cannot say,” the Rhino pilot admitted. “There are any number of incidents which could cause an Imperial settlement to conduct more extensive purges. Most often they ramp up when some problem arises from a psyker or mutant that previous sweeps missed.” He shrugged his armored, spine-ridden shoulders. “Whatever the reason, the Imperium’s loss is our gain.”

“If your fleet really does want to offer us a trip off this moon, you’ll find plenty of takers,” Erin agreed, “present company included.”

“Of course! I’m just relieved we were able to meet with you without any violent misunderstandings!” Twilight said.

“Except for blowing me up,” Rainbow reminded her.

“Yes, fine. Except that,” the young Princess added quickly. “Byron, do you think any of the other refugee groups would be willing or able to join us for evacuation?”

“I don’t think so, no. We’re not on very good terms with each other,” he admitted. “Mostly they’re arming up to fight the inevitable Imperium incursion. If we told them to join us in escaping, they’d think we were leading them topside into a trap. None of them would believe us.”

Byron led everyone around a corner and into a larger room with an inclined floor. This room was completely unlit, and Pinkie Pie turned on her walker’s floodlight to illuminate the path ahead. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all roughly carved stone, with a few construction beams placed as support columns. Trash was everywhere, scattered across the floor and piled up in the corners.

“When I first found this place the refugees here were using it as a garbage pit,” Byron explained as he carefully advanced through the room. “Apparently it was already choked with debris when they found it. I organized a scavenging effort for useful scrap and parts. Then I realized there was something else here.”

He reached a small passageway at the bottom of the incline. “This tunnel was behind an armored seal when I found it. It took our only melta charge to break through, but it was worth it.”

“Possibly,” Erin added.

“Too small for a Dreadnought to navigate,” Dest noted. “Pie, disembark.”

“Okay!” The head of the Dreadnought tilted to one side, and Pinkie Pie shot out of the massive walker to land on Dest’s backpack. “Ready to go!” she announced, hugging the Possessed Marine’s helmet.

Byron stared. Erin also stared, although her eyes lacked the same element of baffled shock since this was the second time she’d seen the Dreadnought’s unlikely pilot.

“Please, go on,” Twilight said. “Is it much further to the artifact?”

“Is… Is nobody going to explain why a pink fluffy thing just came out of that siege walker?” Byron asked, pointing to the war machine.

“We can’t explain the Dreadnought, so we typically don’t try,” Rarity said bluntly.

Pinkie Pie fished around in her own mane for a second, and then pulled out a small remote control. She jabbed one of the buttons on it, and then the Dreadnought head fell back down into place. The entry hatch locked, and a chirping noise came from the war machine twice in rapid succession.

“It’s only going to make less sense the longer we wait here,” Twilight warned their hosts.

“Right! Yes. Sorry. Follow me, uhm, folks,” Byron said awkwardly, continuing into the tunnel.

The room beyond the tunnel was well lit at least, and the party trudged through the debris littering the passage while Byron continued describing his work.

“I’m not completely sure what possessed me to keep digging my way into the artifact chamber. Strange images haunted my dreams and mysterious whispers seemed to follow me through the dark,” Byron explained. “But I did keep digging, and after a few days of work we found it in this chamber ahead of us.”

“What’s ‘it,’ though?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“I still don’t know. We have no name for it other than ‘the artifact.’ It’s obviously not of human design or construction, and there’s no obvious interface or mechanism with which to use it.”

“But you did use it, didn’t you?” Twilight asked. “You contacted me.”

“Yes. I… I did. There was another attack. Imperial forces deployed several macro-canisters of nerve-shredder gas and some of it made it to our tunnels. A dozen healthy refugees were dead in minutes, and we barely managed to seal away the poisoned tunnels in time to save the rest of us. In the midst of despair I think there was a point at which I simply sank to my knees in front of the artifact and began to pray. That’s when I heard… something.”

“You heard ME,” Twilight corrected him.

“Yes, I imagine so. I didn’t get a look at you, though, so you’ll have to forgive my surprise at my savior being an armored pony heretic,” Byron said with a slight chuckle.

“I assure you, no other manner of heretic would have deigned to undertake such an unlikely rescue,” Dest said darkly, idly reaching up to scratch Pinkie along her neck. The bubblegum-colored mare squeaked in delight, leaning into the contact and wagging her tail.

“We probably wouldn’t have been able to go either, but our Warsmith Solon was fascinated by what I saw of the artifact and wanted to recover it,” Twilight admitted.

Byron reached the end of the tunnel, and then stepped out into the room to clear the path for his guests. “Well, have a look for yourself. Behold, the saving grace of this refuge, and the key to our salvation-“

“Mistress Trixie!” Suuna shouted, suddenly bolting past Dest.

The artifact room was a large, circular pit with a central pedestal and numerous construction lumens set in the walls. The artifact itself was quite obvious: an octahedron just a bit bigger than a human head situated on the pedestal. It was made of an ivory white material, but it wasn’t obvious at a glance whether it was stone, metal, or some sort of other, more extensively processed material. It also seemed to balance inexplicably on one of the six corner tips, as if it had been glued in place or was supported by some other invisible means.

Despite the presence of the mysterious object, what seized the attention of the space pirates was Trixie Lulamoon. She was laying against the pedestal, unconscious but apparently alive. She was still wearing her power armor, but her helmet was missing. As a result, the entire group could see a shallow cut across the side of her neck; the wound looked relatively fresh, but at least it didn’t look like she was actively bleeding.

“Erm… may I assume that you know why there is a blue armor horse here?” Byron asked.

Suuna didn’t answer him, rushing up to the pedestal and dropping down next to her “employer.” She carefully checked the unicorn’s pulse, and then cradled her head. “Medicae! Quickly! I think she’s okay, but she’s lost some blood! I can see it dried onto her gorget!”

The sound of galloping ceramite greaves came from the tunnel, which initially perplexed the refugees because all the visible ponies had frozen in surprise. Then Fluttershy’s cloak fell, and Byron stumbled backward as the pegasus rushed to the side of the fallen pony.

“Wh-What was… d-did it just…?” he stuttered in confusion. “How many more p-ponies are there?”

“I think there’s another one on top of those two, actually. But they won’t tell me where it is,” Erin grumbled.

The rest of the pirates emerged, approaching the artifact and the mare lying underneath it. Most of the equines were concerned about Trixie, but Twilight reasoned that the magician was being well cared for already and kept her focus on the artifact.

Material analysis: ……… Error
Molecular scan inconclusive
Radiation analysis: ……… Complete
Isotope scan negative
Thermal scan normal
Particle scan neutral
WARNING
Trace psykant patterns detected

“A psychic artifact…” Twilight mumbled, staring at the data screeds that crossed her visor. “Do we know where it came from? I mean, other than this room?”

“No. As far I know it’s always been here,” Byron said. “I’m pretty sure it was found by excavation teams working on this corner of the underhive before it was abandoned. I don’t know why they left it… what few records I found buried in the trash pit were so corrupted and ruined to be basically useless.”

“Maybe it killed the workers who found it,” Erin suggested with a suspicious eye toward the object.

“I’ve seen nothing to suggest it is capable of such a thing, nor have I seen any human remains among the debris,” Byron replied in a frustrated tone that suggested it was not the first time he’d had this argument. “If it killed the work crews, where are the bodies? There would at least be some bones left over.”

“Maybe it disintegrated them. Maybe the corpses were eaten by varipedes and dissolved entirely,” Erin retorted. “I’m not saying the blasted thing is dangerous, I’m just saying that if it is, we’re not going to know until it’s too late. You handle enough bombs that you could show a little more care in dealing with weird alien crystals!”

“Well, with any luck it won’t be our problem anymore and you can bother the ponies about it from now on,” Byron huffed, walking up next to Twilight.

It was about at this time that an exhausted groan came from the mare on the ground.

“Mistress Trixie! Mistress Trixie, you’re all right!” Suuna said, gasping in relief and trying to restrain tears.

“Trixie sure doesn’t feel all right,” Trixie grumbled, cracking her eyes open. The first thing she saw was Fluttershy’s ram head helmet looming over her, and the magician winced. “What the hay happened? Trixie feels like she’s been sleeping for days…” Trixie’s eyes were bloodshot, and her fur looked quite unkempt and dirty compared to when they had last seen her.

“You tell us,” Applejack snorted. “Ya ran off without us while we were lookin’ fer the psychic gizmo, and now we find ya asleep right under it.”

Fluttershy backed away, retracting the needles of her narthecium. “Other than the neck wound, I’m not sure what might have happened to you. It almost seems like you’ve suffered a concussion, but there’s no external cranium stress.”

“Lucky you!” Rainbow interjected. “That’s the worst part of concussions!”

“Concussion? Neck wound? What are you talking about?” Trixie asked, squinting at the ponies around her. “… Wait, where did Trixie’s helmet go? And Trixie’s hat?!”

Applejack sighed. “Ah don’t suppose ya know where Serith ran off to, do ya? We thought y’all were together.”

“Serith’s missing too?” Trixie asked, groaning. “Do you mean you’re missing all of him, or just a few parts? As long you have the chest you can usually track the rest down.”

“I don’t think she’s going to be much help,” Rarity whispered to Twilight.

“If the Sorcerer is the only one still missing then we need to find him. Let’s not waste any more time,” Dest ordered. “Sparkle, secure the artifact and then go meet this sanctuary’s leader. The rest of us can split up to search the nearby tunnels.”

“Okay, good idea.” Twilight’s horn started to glow, much to the alarm of Erin and the fascination of Byron. A purple aura surrounded the artifact, and Erin took several steps back so that she was the farthest one from the pedestal.

Several seconds passed. The artifact didn’t move, and Twilight’s expression contorted into one of confusion, then concentration, and finally concern.

“We may have a problem,” the young Princess admitted, her horn dimming. “It won’t move.”

“Really? It’s not nearly as heavy as it looks,” Byron said.

“You touched it?” Erin asked.

“Of course I have. It’s completely safe, as far as I can tell. Also, it seems it can balance on any corner, not just that one! Haven’t really figured out how yet, but-”

“Someone is coming!” Dest barked suddenly, turning to face the entrance. His boltgun was in his hands immediately, although he kept the weapon lowered.

“Is it Serith?” Twilight asked.

“Negative. Multiple contacts.” He peered into the gloom beyond the artifact chamber.

“It’s probably some of our guards. It’s not like you were quiet on your way in,” Erin said, stepping up next to the possessed Astartes.

“I believe you’re correct.” Dest glanced back at Byron. “Do your people hold any superstitious aversion to this place?”

“Some do, sure. Enough that no one has stolen the artifact and tried to trade it for meat jerky and ammunition,” the young man said wryly. “We don’t post any guards or anything here.”

Erin squinted while she stared into the tunnel, trying to identify the approaching refugees. “It’s Lady Nacellus!” she shouted suddenly, backing away and holstering her own weapon. “It seems she’s come to meet us.”

“She’s not alone,” Dest observed, still holding his boltgun ready.

“Your squad is exceptionally well-armed and some of you seem to be witches,” Erin pointed out, “why would she face you alone?”

“Please try to keep all references to potential violence to an absolute minimum, please,” Twilight said anxiously, using her magic to quickly smooth her mane. “Dest, you don’t have to put your weapon down, but can you at least move behind us, please? You really tend to dominate the encounter, otherwise.”

The pilot nodded and did as requested, moving back around the artifact pedestal and standing behind it.

“Does anyone want to explain to Trixie who this person is and why we should care?” Trixie asked. “Trixie would really like to get a head start on finding her hat.”

“We don’t have time to get you up to speed!” Rarity hissed. “Just be polite and PLEASE, for the love of Celestia, don’t say anything!”

A woman emerged from the tunnel, flanked by four soldiers wrapped in dirty rags and carrying long guns. She was rather tall with weathered skin and wore robes that were probably at one point noble finery, but were now dirtied and torn from age and lack of care. She was much older than Erin, perhaps in her fifties, with graying blond hair and several blue stripes tattooed across her face and forehead in a pattern that probably held some unique familial significance. She cradled a baby in her arms; it was wrapped up in blankets and held against her chest so that its body wasn’t visible to the pirates, and seemed to be sleeping soundly. Pinkie’s eyes gleamed with delight at spotting the child, but she remained impatiently silent as the master of the refuge examined her guests.

“…… So, you are the ones that have come to aid us,” the elder woman said after a long pause. “Ponies. Huh. My guards told me about you, of course, but it’s still a remarkable sight to see.” Her voice was calm and soothing, and Twilight promptly felt some of her anxious tension melt away.

“I am Twilight Sparkle! For the purposes of this mission, I am the leader and your contact with the Iron Warriors 38th Company!” the alicorn announced.

“Twilight… Sparkle? What an interesting name. I am known as Lady Nacellus. I do hope you’ll forgive me for not introducing myself more… completely, but these are dangerous times to trust.”

“I completely understand!” Twilight said brightly. “As a gesture of our good will, we’d like to rescue you and everyone in your sanctuary!”

Lady’s Nacellus smiled broadly. “That would be quite a magnanimous gesture.”

“Yes, well, it WILL take some measure of trust on your part, of course,” Twilight chuckled. “I’m not sure how much of the situation in the Ghessheim system you’re aware of, but our fleet is currently plundering the hive world. We’ve already pierced the Imperial defenses three times now: first at the void refinery, then on the fifth planet, and now here, on Ulaisse.”

“This one was a little close, though. It’s gonna be a pain to get back out to the fleet,” Rainbow grumbled.

“They say they already lost their transport, but can still arrange a rescue,” Erin interjected. “Frankly I believe their story, if only because no Imperial spy could possibly be creative or insane enough to cook up a unit of space horses accompanied by some kind of mutant Astartes.”

“Two Astartes, actually,” Applejack said. “One of ‘em is missin’ though. He’s pretty weird too, but Ah don’t think he’s no mutant.” She paused. “Also maybe a third one?”

“Applejack, darling, tone down the honesty a little bit,” Rarity warned.

“If you truly can let us flee Ulaisse, then there is little to discuss,” Nacellus said. “We will do everything in our power to assist with an evacuation. What do you need?”

“We need to know how many individuals we’ll be expecting to take on, first of all. Then we’ll need the coordinates of a surface exit where our allies can pick us up,” Twilight explained. “Ideally the exit wouldn’t be actively guarded by Imperial forces, but I know that may be a difficult request. Fighting our way out may be our only option.”

“There’s an old smuggling tunnel that I use sometimes to make runs into the forest,” Erin said. “It leads to this abandoned Imperial shrine. The local forces have never found that entrance, to my knowledge.”

“You may presume that Imperial forces have now found that entrance,” Dest said.

“Oh blight, is that how you lot got down here?!” Erin demanded.

“Heh, yeah. Sorry about that. Not gonna want to use that exit again,” Rainbow chuckled regretfully.

“Unfortunate, but there are other routes,” Lady Nacellus said. “The forces of hive city Adrast have collapsed some tunnels, trapped others, and they guard the most often-used paths, but there are always more.” She paused to adjust the sleeping baby in her arms. “As for our numbers, you should expect to transport some thirty people.”

“Thirty? That’s a lot less than Erin said there were here,” Twilight noted. Their guide and Byron likewise seemed surprised at the number.

“Yes. There will be many that will not be making the trip,” Nacellus admitted sadly. “The children, the infirm, and the women too far along in their pregnancies will not be joining us.”

This admission stunned most of the group. Pinkie’s ears pinned down and her tail drooped. “Awwww… no Chaos nursery then?”

“L-Lady Nacellus, you can’t mean-“ Byron stuttered, only to fall silent at a shake of the woman’s head.

“I understand the ramifications of what I’m saying,” Nacellus said softly, “I have a contingency plan for those left behind. I have a pact with the deep pit skulkers and they can take over this sanctuary once we have evacuated. But of course the Imperial incursions will not stop…”

“They’ll be eradicated,” Erin whispered.

“Hold on, let’s not be too hasty here,” Twilight said. “We can take on some less capable people! At least, uh, the children should-“

“Lady Nacellus has made a difficult decision, Sparkle,” Dest interrupted, “but a wise one. Bringing only those of sound health and body will make the evacuation easier and also avoid further problems within the fleet. The Harvest of Steel is no place for children.”

“O-Okay, you have a point, but still-“ Twilight started, only to be interrupted again.

“My lady, please, reconsider!” Erin said, her eyes blinking away tears. “At least the youngest, who can be easily carried, should be brought along with us! Do you intend to abandon the child in your arms, as well?!”

Nacellus’s expression tightened, and she took a moment to hug the baby against her chest. “I do. I must,” she said firmly, a tear escaping the corner of her eye. “I have to believe that there is yet a safe haven on this world for them, but I must also look to the safety of the rest of the colony that look to me for guidance. In time, the pain we endure will be answered. But we MUST endure, and I will suffer with my people as always.”

“Are you hearin’ this? Did we really come all this way to save these cowards?” Applejack grumbled into her vox, tactfully switching off the external caster that would project her voice to the rest of the room.

“That’s a tad judgmental, darling. These people are being slowly exterminated by their own government. We don’t know what they’ve been through,” Rarity retorted.

“Ah’m sure they got their reasons, but it don’t sit right with me, abandoning their family down here so quick-like,” Applejack fumed. “She knows they ain’t gonna make it. We all know anyone left in this hole is doomed. They told us over and over.”

“Yeah, I’m with AJ on this one,” Rainbow Dash mumbled uncomfortably. “Like, I know we expect the way out to be dangerous, but we don’t KNOW that, right? It feels like she’s cutting these people loose before she’s even tried to save them. It’s weird.”

“Enough argument,” Lady Nacellus announced. “I have given you the number of survivors we will need to save. I will see to the arrangements of the rest before we depart. What more do you need?” Byron and Erin lowered their heads and stepped back, their expressions ashen.

Twilight gulped. She was also quite uncomfortable with the decision, but was also encouraged with how easily the refugees were cooperating. She had secured the artifact and the targets to be rescued. This part of the mission had gone as smoothly as she could have expected, and with some luck it would be over before nightfall.

“Y-Yes… we need any maps you have of the area. I imagine you’ll be guiding us directly, but planning a route will be important for contacting the fleet,” the Princess explained, trying to put the previous topic out of her mind.

“It will be done. We will bring our personal weapons, of course, but we have other armaments if we have more time to gather them. Largely improvised explosives. It’s nothing compared to your wargear, obviously, but they’ve saved us from oblivion more than once,” the elder explained.

“I don’t think it will be necessary, but they could be useful,” Twilight replied. “You probably won’t need much food or water for the trip, and I recommend leaving all personal items behind. But you’ll have time to gather whatever you have on hand for the trip; we still need to find Serith.”

“That will not be necessary, Lady Sparkle.”

The guards around Nacellus jumped and whirled around at the voice, aiming their weapons down the entrance tunnel. In the pitch black corridor a pair of floating red lights advanced toward them, accompanied by the sound of greaves crushing bits of rock and detritus underfoot.

Lady Nacellus turned with less hurry, and then tilted her head to the side as the Chaos Space Marine was gradually illuminated by the light leaking into the tunnel. “Hello, my Lord. I am Lady Nacellus. You would be… Serith?”

“Correct,” Serith said calmly, finally emerging into the light for all to see. The bodyguards backed away and surrounded the Sorcerer, but they lowered their guns without a word. Twilight bore an expression that looked torn between annoyed and relieved. And Trixie…

“Serith! You’re all right!” the magician said brightly, jumping past Suuna and Applejack. “And you have Trixie’s hat! Excellent! Trixie was afraid we’d find one of you and not the other! We’re all ready to get out of here!”

Serith stopped and stared at the blue unicorn. Then, after several seconds, he plucked the pointed, wide-rimmed hat from where it was sitting atop his halberd and tossed it at the ponies. Trixie immediately caught it with her levitation magic, and then carried it through the air onto her head.

“Well met, Lady Trixie,” Serith said. “I also have your helmet. But it is in… unsuitable condition to be used, so I will carry it for now.”

“Okay, sure!” Trixie chirped.

“Do y’all wanna explain just what happened that ya two ran off, got separated, and then found yer way here at different times with Trixie hurt and Serith carryin’ her headgear?” Applejack asked.

“Trixie already told you: Trixie has no clue what happened,” the unicorn protested.

“And I do not, in fact, wish to explain,” Serith added, much to the increasing agitation of the other mares.

“Sounds good! Now how about we get out of here?” Trixie asked eagerly.

“I will make preparations and get you those maps,” Nacellus said, turning away from the group. “I’m sure you have to prepare the artifact for recovery, anyway.”

“Have you touched the artifact, elder?” Serith asked suddenly, stopping her short.

Lady Nacellus blinked. “Me? No. I do not deal in such things.”

“Then what is the explanation for the dark whispers in your ear?” Serith said, much to the confusion of everyone else in the room. “The Warp clings to you, carrying thoughts of malice and deceit. Yet you do not command it. What does it say?”

The guards once again lifted their guns. Erin was completely baffled by the confrontation, but her hand likewise moved to her sidearm. Byron simply gaped and wiped off his glasses.

“Serith, what are you getting at?” Twilight demanded. She really wished she could simply blast off the Sorcerer’s head again and move on with their mission, but she didn’t think this was another of Serith’s aggravating games. The runic psyker was by far the oldest and most experienced of the group, and his talent for telepathy meant he could ferret out dangers that weren’t obvious to the rest of them.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nacellus said. “You speak in riddles. The Warp? Here?”

“If that is too confusing for you, allow me to ask you something simpler,” Serith hissed. “Do you dream, Lady Nacellus?”

“Is this a trick question?” she answered blandly.

“What do you dream of, elder? Are they images of your daily struggles, or is your mind taken with visions of the void beyond?” Serith asked, his voice almost accusatory. “Do you dream of spires of twisted flesh and chitin? A tide of teeth and claws? Swarms of ravenous locusts, stripping planets bare? Or a deep, gnawing hunger, fathomless in its scale, singular in its purpose, calling to you from across the stars?”

Nacellus looked alarmed as the Sorcerer spoke, and then she recoiled when Serith suddenly thrust his free hand toward her. Rather than unleashing any sort of harmful energies toward Nacellus, however, the baby wrapped against her chest suddenly jumped into the air, its blanket falling loose in the process.

“EEEEEEE BABY IT’S SO CUUUUUTE!” Pinkie squealed happily, not quite in tune with the mood of the rest of the room.

The child started to cry and flail about in the air. Its skin had a distinctive purple tint, and it possessed a third arm on its right side. Ridged plates covered the dome of its skull, and despite its age it already had pointed claws at the tips of every finger.

“What are you doing?!” Nacellus screamed, reaching for the baby suspended in the air. With a twitch of Serith’s finger it hovered slightly higher, remaining out of her reach.

“Is that a mutant?” Twilight asked. She and the other ponies were very confused by this revelation and unsure why it had made the Sorcerer so hostile.

“Yes, he is,” Erin said, glaring at Serith. “We’ve had quite a few of them being birthed recently. So what?”

“That is no mutant,” Serith said decisively. The guards still had their weapons aimed at him, but he paid them no mind. “It is no cruel whim of genetics that has shaped this child, but the willful and precise manipulations of the alien.”

Dest’s boltgun snapped up in an instant as realization dawned.

“This is not a refugee camp, sanctuary to the innocent victims of the Imperium’s iron fist,” Serith snarled, “this… is a Genestealer Cult.”

Author's Note

Well I guess it wasn't much of a dramatic reveal since every single reader picked up on the foreshadowing from last chapter, so yeah its pants robbers :rainbowwild:

Sadly EZ isn't in great health these days, so I don't think we're going to see more chapter art for a while :pinkiesad2:

Outbreak

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 8
Outbreak

Harvest of Steel
Landing bay 17

+Shipment 1.8003.61 has been loaded and is ready for processing. Scavurel teams are returning to the planet surface for redeployment. This hold is nearing optimal capacity.+

Glittering green optics flickered beneath charcoal black hoods. A veritable ocean of containers, barrels, cases, and bundled materials stretched out before them, stacked five times as high as a man in some spots.

+Excellent. We are ahead of schedule. Have the scavenger crews faced resistance on the surface?+

+Negligible. The populace is completely broken and seem to have realized they can flee without pursuit. Scavurel report several incidences of encountering civilians in hiding during operations. Very few have engaged and no traps or sabotage were found after they fled the operational zones. Some surrendered immediately, and were then used to assist cargo capture.+

+Optimal. Aside from the initial difficulty with the Station Eschel, this mission should exceed expected returns. Begin processing immediately.+

The Dark Techpriests chittered to each other in Binaric Cant while a long train of men and women were led into the hangar. Two Iron Warriors stood guard while they nervously filed past, and two pony mares – one earth pony and one pegasus – emerged from a different entrance.

One of the Dark Techpriests whirled on the equines immediately. “This area is restricted. Evacuate.”

The ponies stopped, but they did not turn around as expected. One of them saluted sharply, a broad and bright smile on her face.

“Hi! I’m Wind Chime! I’m reporting for duty in this hangar!” she chirped.

“Jewel Bracer,” the other one said much less enthusiastically. “We’re supposed to be the overseers for this section.”

The Dark Techpriests quickly spat something to each other in Binaric. Then they returned their attention to the mares.

“These serviles are newly contracted menials, taken from the orbital refinery. Why does the Trademaster no longer use proper overseers?”

“We can be proper overseers!” Wind Chime said brightly. “In fact, Trademaster Delgan now uses us exclusively for managing large-scale work flow! He says we’re good for morale!” She giggled into a hoof.

“Line up and prepare for assignment!” Jewel shouted, walking toward the menials without waiting for permission from the Techpriests.

“Just leave the rest to us, ‘kay?” Wind Chime winked at the tech-cultists and then jumped into the air, flying off the observation platform and over the crowd of workers.

Wind Chime took a small metal box from her leg pouch and then held it up in front of her mouth. “Hello everyone, and good morning! Relatively speaking, of course! Those of you on the lambda sleep rotation are probably up a little later than you’d like, but it’s time to get the lead out!” The micro caster amplified her bell-like voice considerably, and it boomed across the hangar while she hovered overhead. “Today we’ll be sorting and moving cargo from the hangar and moving it to the interior holds! Make sure you’ve all stretched and loaded up on carbs, because the next ten hours are going to be a real workout!” She thrust a hoof into the air and grinned.

The menials stared at the ponies, their expressions ranging from awkwardly pleased to absolutely incredulous.

“I’m sorry, are we expected to obey the orders of pastel-colored horse mutants while we’re on assignment here?” asked one gruff man near the front.

“Yeah,” Jewel Bracer replied bluntly. “Ultimately you’ll be obeying the orders of pretty much everyone else in the fleet, but for right now we’re the boss, yes.”

“Don’t worry!” Wind Chime interjected loudly. “We’re trained in logistics management and have a detailed work plan! Jewel, divide them into four groups, please!”

“I don’t… that isn’t…” the man stumbled over his words trying to come up with an objection that didn’t sound obviously ridiculous after agreeing to work for the Chaos raiders that had assaulted his home, but before he could articulate one Jewel Bracer interrupted him.

“Look, I get that some of you guys aren’t happy with being ordered around by little ponies. I understand. Really. You’re used to big brutes with whips and robot claws muscling you about, and we’re small and cute and don’t have opposable thumbs. Makes sense!” she explained before pointing at the Chaos Space Marines guarding the menial entrance. “But if you won’t take orders from us, then you’re going to have to take the exact same orders from an Iron Warrior, and I think ALL of us will be a lot less happy that way. Especially the Iron Warrior. You follow?”

The menial frowned at Jewel. Then he looked over to the Iron Warriors standing guard. One of the Astartes stared back, directly at him, and lifted his boltgun higher.

“Wh-What group am I in, Overseer?”

“You and everyone to your left are group 1. Go over there, next to the red block containers,” Jewel ordered before moving to the next section.

“All works groups will find auto-brands at their station to tag the contents of each cargo unit before it’s moved to the appropriate loading bay!” Wind Chime said, landing on one of the taller shipping blocks so she could free up her wings. “And remember everybody: If we beat our productivity quota, everyone gets COOKIES!”

The workers started moving as the relentlessly cheerful pegasus shouted at them from atop the cargo stacks, and there was a noticeable acceleration from several of the menials at the mention of baked goods. The Dark Techpriests watched without interference, occasionally spitting pithy comments to each other in Binaric. Wind Chime used her wings to withdraw and unfurl a parchment scroll, and then held it up in front of her before she continued.

“Remember to classify cargo by broad category as well as specifying exactly what it is after your inspection! The categories are: Raw materials, organic materials, refined materials, ordnance, fuel materials, finished goods, small arms…”

While Wind Chime rattled off more items from her list the workers began untangling the massive pile of stolen goods. The smallest and closest crates were moved first, clearing the way for the larger ones to be lifted out.

One of the menials took up an auto-brand and then immediately walked toward the back of the bay, climbing over many unidentified crates and cases along the way. He reached a large cargo container, and then lifted the auto-brand toward the container door. He used the screen to tag the container, entering its category as “refined goods” and its label as “plasteel ingots” and then nodded to himself, looking satisfied.

“Excuse me, Sir. Please stick with the rest of your work team. The unidentified cargo may be hazardous, and with it stacked so high back here there could be an accident if you’re by yourself.”

The menial froze, and then turned his head to look over his shoulder. Jewel Bracer was standing atop a crate behind him, her expression inscrutable behind her respirator mask.

“Sorry Miss… getting ahead of myself.” He turned around and walked back toward her.

“Why did you tag that crate? You didn’t open it to check the contents,” Jewel noted.

“No need for that. It’s from a plasteel manufactory. I used to work there and I’d recognize that shipping label anywhere,” he assured her as he walked back. “Still, point taken about the other cargo, overseer.”

Jewel silently watched him go, one eyebrow arched. Then she shrugged and followed him back to the work team.

Ulaisse capital moon
Underhive complex sigma (abandoned)
precise geo-coordinates unknown

“Okay. Everyone please, just… calm down. Let’s dial this back a little bit.” Erin Whyd took her hand off her sidearm and held up her hands. “What exactly is a ‘Genestealer Cult?’ We’re no cult.”

“Not as you understand cults, perhaps,” Serith drawled. His index finger lazily drew a circle in the air, and the bizarre three-armed baby slowly spun in tandem while it floated and cried overhead. “Let me put it in more mundane terms: This place is infested. The corruption is deep. What we mistook for the noble resistance of an oppressed people against heartless tyrants is a nest of alien monstrosities and their hapless servants.”

“Whyd. Hess. Move away from Sparkle,” Dest growled, his boltgun trained on Byron. “This mission is aborted. We will not be taking xeno-infected saboteurs back to the fleet.”

“No… please… I don’t… I don’t understand… we’re not infected by anything!” Byron shrank back away from the gun, his arms up in the air. Erin likewise backed away, but they didn’t move toward the stony-faced guards or Lady Nacellus.

The ponies were shocked still, either confused, horrified, or both that the encounter had so suddenly turned hostile.

Except Trixie, of course. “Oh, great, so the mission failed and we get nothing except more injuries and a wrecked gunship. Wonderful. What a complete waste of time!” she complained.

“Nobody asked you to come along,” Rainbow mumbled.

“Trixie came along to see an alien world!” the magician retorted. “And now Trixie has amnesia somehow, so even THAT’S been spoiled! Trixie doesn’t remember us landing! Is Ulaisse’s surface nice? Hopefully Trixie took a few pic-captures! OH RIGHT THE HELMET’S BROKEN TOO! THIS SUCKS!”

“Lady Trixie, I must apologize for this unseemly encounter,“ Serith said, turning away from Lady Nacellus with one hand still in the air and levitating the wailing child. “I advised against this mission, of course, but even I had no idea what miserable wretches populated this pit. We shall make haste to-“

“Lady Nacellus! NO!!” Byron screamed, recoiling with his eyes wide.

Serith halted, and then turned back to look. He happened to be standing between the bulk of the pirates and the elder, so Dest shifted to the side in order to get a clear view (and potentially a clear shot) at her.

Nacellus bore a grim, stony expression while she held in her hand a small device with several dials, an antenna, and a big red button that her thumb was already touching, but was not yet depressed.

“That’s a signum detonator,” Erin said, sweat starting to crawl down her brow.

“What is there here to detonate?” Dest demanded.

“In the c-ceiling! M-Mining charges! I p-placed them so that this r-room could be destroyed and buried if necessary!” Byron said, visibly trembling. “Please, Lady Nacellus! Don’t do this!”

“If you don’t want me to do this, our guests are going to have to put down their weapons,” she replied, her voice calm and cold.

“And if we do, you’ll do what?” Dest demanded, his boltgun aimed squarely at her head. “Back out of the artifact room and then bury us once you’re safe?”

“That would be a poor bargain, wouldn’t it?” Nacellus mused. “I don’t think I’ll do that, no. Instead-“

The baby suddenly dropped from the air as Serith stopped levitating it. Lady Nacellus stopped speaking, but she otherwise didn’t react as one of her guards leapt forward and caught the newborn hybrid. A disappointed sound came from Serith’s helmet.

“Hold on. Everyone, just… calm down, please,” Twilight begged, her remaining eye wide and trembling.

“Guards. Leave us,” Lady Nacellus commanded, her eyes fixed on the rescue party and Dest in particular. “If it does come down to the bombs, there’s no reason you have to die too. Oh, and… let the others know.”

“Yes, mi’lady!” barked the man carrying her child. Another soldier backed up to the exit and waved the others through while keeping his aim in the center of the artifact hold.

“Others? Who’s the others?” Erin asked, her voice tight.

“Erin, Byron… I’m so sorry things turned out like this,” Nacellus sighed, still holding the detonator up in front of her. “There just wasn’t enough time. Things fell apart so quickly once the cruel masters of the Adrast spire found out… much as they did here.” Then she cocked her head to the side. “Lord Astartes, I’m going to have to ask you to put down your weapon. If you don’t, I will terminate this negotiation prematurely. The same with the rest of you. Those… horns of yours glow when you use your witchcraft, yes? You’ll want to avoid doing that.”

Dest’s claws twitched. He ached to pull the trigger, but doubted that he could kill the woman before she could set the bombs off.

“She is not bluffing,” Serith said coldly. “Her mind is taken by the cult’s master, and it steels her against my will. She is little more than a puppet now.”

“Lady Nacellus… no…” Byron whispered.

Dest slowly lowered his bolter, placing it on the ground next to Rarity’s hoof. “Take one step toward the exit with the detonator still in your hand and you won’t make it out alive. I do not need a gun to slay you, pawn.” Pinkie Pie whimpered, hugging the back of Dest’s helmet tighter.

“Of course,” Nacellus drawled. “I am hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned. It’s incredibly fortunate that we happened to meet somewhere where I could eliminate you all in an instant. But… I’d rather not have to do that.”

“You said… negotiation?” Twilight asked, her voice cracking. Her thoughts were racing, and her heart was thundering in her chest. “Wh-What do you want?”

“What I want is precisely what you came here to offer me,” Nacellus replied. “Passage off this world and out of the reach of the Imperium. But I’m guessing that’s off the table now.” She sighed. “Aside from whether your generosity extends to those of us who have been enlightened, we cannot ensure you’ll be a button press away from death the entire time. So I propose something else.”

“Spit it out, ya backstabbin’ freak,” Applejack growled.

“Put down your weapons and wargear. Guns, blades, armor, equipment. Byron, Erin, you too,” Nacellus commanded. “I will have my men collect it, and when that is done I will put the signum detonator on the ground. Then you will be free to go.”

“What? You want our power armor?” Rarity asked, surprised.

“Why? You know you guys can’t wear pony armor, right?” Rainbow asked.

“Your concern is noted, but I assure you we’ll find something to do with it,” Lady Nacellus said. “Well?”

Dest and Serith shared a glance.

“Her words are sincere, but she speaks on behalf of an alien that knows only treachery and what moves are to its advantage. Besides… we cannot comply with this compromise,” Serith explained.

“Your war plate is worth more than your life?” Nacellus asked.

“For some of us they are one and the same,” Dest growled. “You ask the impossible.”

“Well, that IS a shame, isn’t it?” Nacellus drawled, right before her upraised arm vanished within a cloud of plasma.

The discharge instantly vaporized the detonator and flesh alike, and Nacellus staggered forward in shock. Then a power sword plunged into her back, piercing her heart and ramming through to emerge from her chest with a burst of hot blood.

The elder slowly turned her head around, trembling, and she stared into the masked face of one of her guards. His eyes were glowing green. She tried to murmur his name, but the words didn’t emerge before consciousness left her.

“I LOVE that expression they make right at the end,” Chrysalis sighed happily, bracing a foot against her victim’s back and pulling her sword free.

Byron slumped to his knees, his eyes wide and his face slick with sweat. Erin wasn’t much better, and she pointed numbly to the man she would have identified as Aarion.

“Excellent work.” Dest snapped up his boltgun again. “Let’s leave this chamber at once. We have no guarantee there is only one detonator keyed to the mining charges.”

“Of course, Lord.” Chrysalis pointed toward Erin and Byron. “What about them?”

“The elder did not permit them to leave with the others. They are likely not infected. Leave them,” Dest replied while he took cover next to the exit and aimed his bolter down the corridor. Pinkie leaned out over his shoulder pad and placed a hoof against her forehead, squinting into the darkness.

“Infected… Infected by WHAT?” Erin asked. “What’s going on? Why-“ she was suddenly struck by a wave of nausea as Serith pointed at her.

“Cease your prattling. You will remain here as we evacuate. If you are not promptly purged or inducted by your former comrades, perhaps you may even live long enough for the Imperium to execute you properly.” Serith turned to follow Dest. “Now then-“

“No,” Twilight interrupted.

Serith stopped, and Dest glanced back at her.

The alicorn took a deep, unsteady breath, and then looked around at everyone else. “If Byron and Erin aren’t infected, then they’re coming with us. Let’s get the artifact and get out of here.”

“We cannot be sure they aren’t,” Dest pointed out, “only that their behavior makes it plausible.”

“Serith can tell, can’t he?” Rarity asked.

“I cannot, for the most part,” the Sorcerer replied. “It was only due to the direct intervention of the hive mind that I could tell something was amiss before and unraveled their deception. It is not so easy with random specimens whose thoughts do not betray the xeno taint.”

“Then we’ll check them later. The Mechanicus knows how,” Twilight said firmly, her augmetic eye gleaming. “They just found out that their friends and neighbors are brainwashed monsters. I’m not leaving them here to be punished because we stepped in and exposed them. Do you object?”

The Iron Warriors didn’t respond right away, staring at Erin and Byron. The refugees could only watch dumbly, unable to think of anything to say in their defense that Twilight hadn’t already said. They were too far out of their depth – too overwhelmed by what they had seen – to speak up now.

“I suppose they don’t pose too great a threat either way,” Dest grumbled, “and having only two more passengers won’t complicate exfiltration.”

“I am, as ever, at your service, Lady Sparkle,” Serith said, his voice dripping with smarmy contempt. “If you desire these hive rats join us, then it shall be so.” He bowed deeply to the alicorn, who offered him only an exasperated sigh in response. Then he pointed to Suuna across the room. “Slave, you will carry the artifact.”

“Serith, Trixie told you not to boss Suuna around like that!” the magician snapped. Then she cleared her throat gently. “Suuna, PLEASE pick up the artifact and follow closely, okay?”

“Of course, Mistress Trixie,” Suuna replied with a slightly resigned expression, stepping up to the octahedron.

More than one pony closed their eyes and cringed away when she touched the artifact, but there was no particular reaction at all when Suuna lifted it from the pedestal.

“It’s lighter than it looks,” she informed the others, hugging the ivory object to her chest. “I’ve got it. We can go.”

Dest nodded. “Very well. I have point until we reach the Dreadnought. Apple! Take the rearguard! Move out!”

The party advanced into the tunnel in a line, with horns and personal lumens splashing beams of light across the walls and floor. Byron and Erin were near the center of the group, stiffly following Twilight Sparkle. Behind them walked Chrysalis, still in the form of a refugee guard, and clearly unnerving the two even further for it. Applejack moved backward from the rear to watch for ambush, just behind Trixie and Suuna.

“So I dunno if you guys were planning on saving this for later or if we were supposed to figure it out on our own, but since it’s kind of a hike back does anyone wanna explain what the hay a ‘Genestealer Cult’ is?” Rainbow asked.

“A Genestealer Cult is a cell of subversives who have been infected and brainwashed by a Tyranid infiltrator known as a Genestealer,” Dest began, “as well as the descendants of those victims.”

“I remember the Genestealers,” Rarity interjected. “We fought them in that ship docked with the Eschel. Gaela told us the name, but didn’t really explain it…”

“Genestealers are ferocious shock troops on the battlefield,” Serith remarked, “but they are far more dangerous skulking in the shadows of civilian populations, like this one. They ambush helpless citizens, but rather than simply killing them, they corrupt their flesh and blood.”

“The Genestealer Curse,” Twilight said with a shudder. “I read about it in the Tyranid combat primers after we took out the grand cruiser.”

“I have seen the process personally,” Serith continued. “I won’t sully your imaginations with the details, but once the process is complete the victim’s mind and body are twisted genetically to serve the Tyranids. The victim is most often rendered unaware of what has occurred, but they then take their poisoned genetics back to their homes, and…”

“And that’s why there were so many pregnant refugees,” Rarity finished, feeling her stomach churn.

“Affirmative. Breeding spreads the infection to their partners and creates hybrids, like that child. Eventually enough individuals are infected and enough soldiers are born that the cult can trigger an uprising and cripple or overthrow their governor. All for the ultimate purpose of drawing ravenous Tyranid fleets to the world so that it can be devoured without difficulty,” Dest said while he emerged from the tunnel, scanning the trash pit for targets. “This is what the Imperium found in its barracks that day. This is what they’re trying to stamp out. And they’re right to do so. There is no cure, no salvation for those taken by the alien’s treacherous venom. They can only be purged.”

Pinkie Pie hopped off of his shoulder an onto the arm of the Dreadnought, and then started to climb back inside. The others emerged into the room behind Dest, illuminating the ramp heading back up.

“So, then… all those people who were… were taken during the Imperium’s raids,” Byron said haltingly, “they were all…?”

“Maybe. Perhaps they were merely suspect and purged out of caution or paranoia,” the pilot started trudging up the incline. “There are gene-craft technologies that can detect the infection, but not every colony possesses them. Since the purges began, however, it is likely that the bulk of the cults have been forced out of Adrast and are trying to hide outside of the capital hive. Like in your refuge.”

Erin took a deep breath before she asked her next question. “So Lady Nacellus was infected, then. She had been ambushed by aliens and made to serve them?”

“Probably,” Serith replied. “Or perhaps this infestation has been festering for long enough that she was born as she was, to infected parents. It matters little to us, but we cannot be sure how long your little hole has sheltered alien pawns, or if it started out that way.”

“And you’re sure Aarion isn’t infected? Why? Is it because he helped us? How long has he been serving you, anyway?” Erin asked.

Before anyone could ask who that was, Chrysalis chuckled and spoke up. “Calm down, little girl. We can’t reveal all our secrets.”

“That’s just Chrysalis,” Rainbow Dash said. “She’s a weird shape-shifting bug monster.”

“HEY!” The changeling whirled about and shouted at her. “What did I just say about revealing all our secrets?!”

“Calm down,” Rarity chided. “If we want these folks to trust us then we should at least tell them why we appear to have one of their guards working for us.”

“TRUST! Oh, spare me!” Chrysalis hissed, turning back to her real body while her weapons disintegrated into green mist. Erin and Byron recoiled at the sight, their eyes wide. “Your TRUST nearly got you buried under a thousand tons of rock!”

“Yes, and then you saved us from that. Thank you, Chrysalis,” Twilight interjected. “Now stop arguing. We have to decide on a course to escape.”

Pinkie’s Dreadnought finished starting up, and the massive pink walker swiveled around and followed Dest.

“What will the others do now that you’ve uncovered this… cult?” Erin asked.

“We’re about to find out,” Serith replied. “There are more hive rats gathering in the tunnels beyond this trash pit. They are preparing to engage.”

“Let me talk to them,” Erin volunteered, stepping in front of Twilight.

“They will either slay you on sight or try to talk you into killing us first,” Serith said. “Not that I’m objecting. Lady Sparkle?”

“Miss Erin, do you really think you can talk them down?” Twilight asked. “We can’t risk taking them with us unless you can somehow prove they’re not infected.”

“I know. We just need to get past them, right? The intersection at the top of the incline can lead us out of the sanctuary’s territory,” she explained. “I can get them to stand down! The guards trust me!”

“But do you trust them?” Twilight asked, stressing the word. “Specifically, do you trust them more than you trusted Lady Nacellus?”

Erin started to reply, but she stopped herself. Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes avoided meeting Twilight’s. “… Please… just… don’t kill them if you don’t have to.” Byron gently placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Dest. Pinkie Pie. Take the front and try to shock them into a retreat right away.” Twilight levitated her helmet over her head, and the seals snapped into place with a hiss of pressurized air. “Everyone else, get ready to sprint into the hall, but stay together and watch the rear! Erin, we need you to guide us out when we clear the intersection! Serith, protect Suuna!”

“I refuse,” the Sorcerer said immediately.

“GAH! FINE! Protect Trixie then! Trixie, YOU protect Suuna!”

“Your wish is my command, Lady Sparkle,” Serith replied, earning him angry glares from several of the mares. Trixie wordlessly saluted, while Suuna silently wondered how well the artifact would fare if used as a shield from incoming fire.

“Let’s get out of here! MOVE!”

The pounding of ceramite greaves announced the approach of the enemy. A bestial snarl came from the darkness, sending chills through the men who sought to neutralize the intruders.

Four stood behind makeshift barricades, split into two groups blocking both paths down the hall from the trash pit entrance. A fifth was trying to secure a bomb to the side of the door, cursing under his breath when it failed to adhere properly.

A great silver claw, like that of an enormous crab, reached from the darkness and plucked the guard off the ground with a startled yelp. His explosive mine dropped to the floor, thankfully not yet armed.

Dest held the guard aloft while he strode into the hall, his image the very picture of a Chaos daemon. Curved thorns decorated his arms, legs, and shoulder pads, and his breast plate had formed a gaping maw that leaked crimson embers. Blazing eyes gazed upon the cultists, seething with rage yet to be released. One arm had morphed into a giant silvery pincer, while the other arm boasted claws that were almost too large to fire a boltgun.

The men guarding the intersection were completely outmatched by this single, monstrous Astartes. They knew at a glance, in dry tactical calculation, even before accounting for the otherworldly terror of his appearance. Yet an alien influence twisted their subconscious, setting a new imperative over their very survival.

Protect the hive. Slay the intruders. Nothing else matters.

Shotgun fire and autogun slugs hammered Dest from both sides, cracking against Warp-fueled ceramite.

With their intent to hold their position established, Dest snipped the guard he was holding aloft in two. His pincer claw turned into a gory streak in the air, and he bolted toward one of the barricades. A boot crushed the flimsy shield of rusted scrap and other garbage, and his claws descended on the men behind it before they could back out of range.

A Contemptor Dreadnought emerged behind Dest, stepping into the burst fire aimed at the driver’s back. As opponents went the Dreadnought was far less intimidating than the Iron Warrior, colored in bright pink with balloons decorating its armor panels and glittering charms hanging from its ammo feeds. It was, though, even more obviously impervious to the feeble guns of the cultists.

“Hello! We’re gonna need you to pack it up here, guys! Reservations for the last ship off-world have officially closed!” the Dreadnought helpfully informed them.

One of them dropped his shotgun, and then jumped over the barricade. He sprinted toward the siege walker, and then dove for the bomb sitting on the floor next to it.

Pinkie grabbed the man in her power fist, holding him just inches away from the dropped explosive charge. “Sorry guys! Better luck tricking the next band of naïve, good-natured space pirates that show up to help!” Then she hurled him into his partner, sending them both tumbling across the rockcrete.

“We’re clear! Advance!” Dest shouted, his voice possessing a bizarre echo that had nothing to do with the tunnel’s acoustics.

“Erin, where are we headed?” Twilight asked as she and Rainbow Dash swept into the halls.

“Take a right! We’re going down the main hall! There’s a pair of blast doors we usually keep locked down!” Erin dashed into the hallway herself, and then stopped short when she saw the gory remains of several men she would have called friends just an hour ago. Her apprehension wasn’t helped when Dest turned sharply to face her, his body still transformed to be as terrifying as possible.

“I’ll lead the way,” Dest snarled, scooping up one of the shotguns and tossing it to Erin Whyd. She barely caught it between her shock and the blood splashed over the weapon.

“Pinkie, cover the rear! Let’s keep Suuna and Byron in the middle!” Twilight continued shouting orders as more of the group rushed into the hallway.

“Be mindful of the ventilation shafts,” Serith remarked while he led Trixie and Suuna at a distinctly unhurried pace. “The presence of a Genestealer Cult suggests, necessarily, the presence of Genestealers. They’d surely prefer to infect us and add our power to their own, but if they are unable they will settle for rending us each limb from limb.”

A few autogun slugs plinked off of Pinkie’s Dreadnought, and she levered her butcher cannon down into firing position. “It looks like they’re not retreating, you guys! Kinda the opposite!”

Rarity winced as the butcher cannon opened up. “Why are they bothering? Unless they’re hiding something much more dangerous than the missile launcher they can’t stop us, can they? Even Orks wouldn’t walk into a battle this one-sided!”

“They’re nothing more than pawns in a greater strategy. They mean to stall us,” Serith said. “For what, I cannot precisely say. We’d best spoil their efforts, regardless.”

Dest ran ahead of the others, seeing another intersection up ahead.

The daemon in his head was gibbering nonsense as he ran, bombarding his mind with flickers of carnage and imagery that defied comprehension. Before being possessed, Dest wouldn’t have thought it was possible to speak telepathically to someone and not be understood, as if it were a foreign language. But he had learned that it was definitely possible, and worse, it was quite common.

Dest’s finger was closing around the trigger of his boltgun before he had even rounded the corner. The first shot drilled into a target’s chest and detonated, and a woman following that unfortunate victim flinched back in shock. She didn’t have a chance to recover from her surprise before the second shot found her and she joined her companion on the ground. Their shotguns clattered to the floor, unused and forgotten.

“Clear!” Dest barked. “Whyd, where is the exit?!”

“It’s… It’s down and then to the right! N-Next intersection!” she shouted.

“Dest, don’t get too far ahead!” Twilight warned before the Iron Warrior bolted ahead again.

Suddenly Vel broke from his strange litany. Hey, uh… not that it makes much of a difference to me, but are we SURE those last two kills were hostiles, bro? They were armed, but… we don’t think everyone here is infected, right?

“All who stand before us shall be as dust and ash!” Dest roared, his enraged shout serving both as a warning to any more refugees and an answer to Vel. “The masters of Chaos will not bow before this swine!”

HARDCORE. I’m feeling that boss energy, dude! Ignit! Daiemo! Irakea! ANGRY FAKE LATIN CHANTING!!

Two more guards rounded the corner, pistols in one hand and shields of salvaged plasteel in the other. Dest crossed the distance between them in an instant, and his pincer punched through one of the shields and the man behind them with a single thrust.

The other guard managed to fire off a single bullet that smacked against Dest’s shoulder pad. Dest kicked the man in response, slamming his boot into the shield and sending the cultist hurtling down the hall. A single bolt round finished him off, and then Dest swung his pincer to the side to fling away the corpse stuck on it.

“I see the blast doors!” he shouted, running ahead again.

The doors made of up one side of a four-way intersection, and Dest slid to a stop in the middle, aiming his boltgun down each hall. The room at the center of the intersection was small, with several makeshift barricades that suggested it was meant to serve as another improvised strongpoint in case of attack. The state of the cover and the poor attention given to the firing angles suggested that it was made to be easy to abandon rather than hard to break.

Twilight and Rainbow flew into the room, followed by Erin and Byron. Erin immediately rushed to a switch panel on the side of the blast doors, but Byron stopped short and stared at one of the cultists smeared across the wall next to a broken shield and pistol.

“Tyban? You… You killed Tyban?” the man mumbled, stunned. “He’s not a guard, he’s an agri-worker. Why would he-“

“The cult cares not whether its pawns are trained for the task of killing intruders!” Dest barked, snapping him out of his surprise. “All its victims are slaves to its prerogatives! Currently that means eliminating us!”

Erin drew a power pack from her belt while she worked at the access panel. “We keep the door unpowered. I just need to connect an energy source and then we can open it. We will not, unfortunately, be able to close it from the other side.”

“It’s fine! I’ll close it and then teleport through!” Twilight announced. “Rarity, Rainbow, cover the side routes until the door is open wide enough for Pinkie!”

“I should probably warn you that the tunnel beyond the blast doors is rigged with more mining charges in the ceiling to cave it in!” Byron announced while he pressed his back up against a wall.

“No wonder this route is so poorly reinforced. You intended to collapse the approach if an enemy found this route, not fight off an invasion,” Dest grunted. “What is the detonator?”

“It’s a wired mechanical key on the underside of the console! I know the combination!”

“Don’t worry, I can do that too! I’ll close the door, then detonate the charges after you escape, and then teleport out to join you!” Twilight announced.

The engine that opened the blast doors finally stirred, and the huge sheets of armored plating started to part. Erin took a breath to gather herself, then glanced back at the ponies spread out through the room.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay by yourself? How reliable is this teleport?” she asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

“You needn’t worry about Sparkle,” Dest snorted, turning around to face the widening gap in the doors. “She’s quite capable, and the resistance your slum poses is minimal. Concentrate on-“

Dest was suddenly blown off his feet when a light cannon shell flew in through the opening between the blast doors, striking him square in the chest. He landed on his side, his breast plate cratered, and then quickly rolled out of the line of fire before several more shells stitched across the ground.

“YEEK! What was that?!” shouted Fluttershy.

Erin flipped a switch, and the doors ground to a halt. “Was that an autocannon?! When did we get an autocannon?!”

“That was an autocannon, yes!” Dest grunted, pushing himself upright again. “But it is not your people beyond the door! We have hybrids!”

The heavy weapons fire stopped, and a moment later the enemy bolted through the opening to meet the intruders. It was a three-armed creature, with one of its hands clutching a pistol and another a short sword. The third arm bore a scything talon at the end, instantly laying bare its Tyranid heritage to those who had seen the vile aliens before. The hybrid wore scavenged torso armor and a long robe rather than pants, tattered and dirty from lack of care. Its facial features were a twisted combination of alien and human, and it wore a pair of welding goggles over its face.

The hybrid turned on Dest immediately, and managed to loose a single shot before the Possessed Marine swung his pincer claw around. The alien spawn was nearly ripped in half as the bladed edge struck, and a fan of blood splashed over the blast doors.

“It’s a Deep Pit Skulker! What are they doing here?” Erin shouted.

“Is that what you call them? Those are Genestealer hybrids, the spawn of infected cultists,” Serith explained. “Although you may have thought of them as a separate faction of underhive dweller, they are creatures born of the same cult that dominates your little slum.”

Another two emerged through the door while Serith was talking, only to get immediately cut down by gunfire. Dest felled one with his bolter, while Erin shot the other in the side. The latter target staggered, wounded, and then a pulse of violet energy pierced it through the chest, finishing it off.

“Dest, did you get a look at the escape tunnel? What do they have out there?” Twilight asked.

“There’s an entire platoon of the wretches!” Dest snarled. “They have an autocannon set up on a barricade with a firing line!” Another hybrid dashed through, and he speared the soldier on his claw.

“Can’t we push through? Pinkie Pie will squash ‘em!” Rainbow Dash said.

“No need. We’ll collapse the tunnel and head down a different route,” Erin retorted, reaching under the console. “Byron, you said you had the combination? I’m setting the det-key.”

Twilight frowned. She looked around at the gloomy tunnels on either side, already bloodied by the cultists that had tried to stop them but now empty. Gunfire started pouring through the gap in the blast doors as the hybrids gave up on a close assault and opted for suppressive fire. Bullets stitched back and forth across the open space, cutting gouges into the flooring and ricocheting off to strike the walls further in.

“We’re sticking with the original plan,” the young Princess said suddenly, surprising the others. “I think we’re being herded away from this route. They’re trying to drive us to a different exit.”

“Okay, but what if there’s a good reason for that which doesn’t matter to us?” Rarity asked, flinching when a bullet was deflected off the floor and smacked against her boot plating. “We could be heading toward a hive of the monsters or a weapons cache.”

“That’s possible, sure. And maybe we’ll destroy those places along the way. You know, so long as we’re in the neighborhood,” Twilight suggested. She delicately cleared her throat after her friends turned to stare at her. “I may not show it very much but I’m actually VERY upset about my rescue mission being ruined like this.”

“Ha ha! Wonderful!” Chrysalis laughed. “Do you want the pink lunatic to go first, or should I?”

“Neither. The Dreadnought could easily weather a single autocannon, but there’s no need to risk a lucky shot or some kind of backup plan. Fluttershy?”

A squeak came from the corner. “Y-Yes?” came the response from what appeared to be thin air.

“You’re going first.”

“They’re not advancing. Reduce suppressive fire,” snarled one of the hybrid soldiers, waving a clawed hand in the air.

Several of the autoguns pouring bullets into the opening between the blast doors stopped firing, and their users took a moment to replenish their ammo. Two soldiers kept shooting over their cover, aiming high to force anyone trying to exit the room to duck under the stream of bullets. The autocannon gunner waited at his emplacement tripod, his nerves on a knife edge while his long, pointed tongue hung from the side of his mouth.

“They’re not retreating, either…” hissed a fellow cultist, squinting over the top of the sandbags. “It was impetuous to try to charge into the room, but we must force them back.”

His companion nodded firmly, his lip curling up over pointed, razor-edged teeth. Then he raised a fist and mimed throwing something. “Flush them out of there!”

To either side of the blast doors were more hybrids, each mob of more than a dozen alien-spawned thugs carrying numerous blades and short-range guns. The leaders – notable by their body structure being closer to a true four-armed Genestealer than their underlings – crept up to the breach, unhooking fragmentation grenades from their belts. With a silent nod, they quietly discarded the safety pins and released the handles, letting the fuses “cook” for a few crucial seconds. Then they tossed them into the doors’ gap from each side.

In an eye blink the grenades flew back where they came from, carried on shimmering arcs of blue and purple.

A surprised snarl was about all the cultists could muster before the explosives went off, blasting hot shrapnel into the waiting troops. A feral screech issued from several of them as they fell, and the soldiers keeping up the suppressive fire briefly halted from surprise, flinching away from the blast.

Within the control room, a pegasus in power armor suddenly appeared, shielding her visor with her legs while a grenade launcher on her back discharged a single shot.

“Sorry!” Fluttershy squeaked before the photon grenade burst.

Many hybrids had subdermal eyes or had tinted goggles to protect them from bright light because they were used to dim lighting conditions. Those soldiers so protected fared slightly better after the entire room went white, but the Tau stun grenades were designed to overwhelm such defenses. The hybrids lurched away and recoiled, clutching their faces or ducking their heads while their vision was consumed by a brilliant white smear. The autocannon gunner panicked and started firing again, blindly hammering one of the blast doors and accidentally wounding several more of the nearby soldiers with shrapnel.

“Outta the way, ugly!” Applejack and Rainbow Dash charged through the breach and turned right, unleashing their weapons into the stunned cultists.

“Chaos comes for you!” roared Dest, turning the other way and descending on the mob in a blazing frenzy.

The blast doors started to open again as Pinkie Pie’s Dreadnought stepped in front of the gap, but it was not nearly wide enough for the siege walker. Her butcher cannon fired through the opening instead, tearing into the barricade and reducing the autocannon gunner to a dark smudge.

“All right! Byron, get those charges ready!” Twilight shouted. “Erin, Rarity, follow Pinkie Pie once she can get through the doors! Trixie, when Byron is done, take him and Suuna and follow the others! When Byron says you’re clear of the collapse zone, let me know! I’ll activate the charges and then use Rarity’s signum to teleport over to you!”

“Are you really going to be okay on your own?” Erin asked, shouting over the rhythmic booming of the butcher cannon.

“I’ll be fine! Don’t take this the wrong way, but your guards aren’t a serious threat to me!” Twilight reassured her.

“What should I do?” Chrysalis asked, cocking her head to the side.

Twilight started, as if surprised that she’d asked. “Do what you want! Just make sure you don’t get stuck on your own or trapped by the cave-in!”

Chrysalis seemed unsatisfied by the response, but Twilight didn’t take the time to explain further. She ran over to Byron, who was already working on the detonator under the console.

The other side of the blast doors had become a massacre, with each of the hybrid combat teams being torn apart in short order. One was scoured with flames and shuriken, another pounded by heavy cannon fire, and another – probably the most unlucky of the bunch – had an enraged, daemon-possessed Iron Warrior plunge into its midst.

Dest killed the cultists with each sweep of his pincer arm, tearing huge gouges into torsos and scissoring off extremities. His other hand was a set of talons wreathed in flames, and each time the claws sliced into a hybrid’s flesh the Warpfire would follow, pouring over the victim and wrapping around it like serpent of raw energy. The servo blades performed the messiest work, stabbing like scorpion stingers at every cultist that didn’t move away fast enough.

“You think to oppose the scions of Chaos?! Alien detritus, poisoning the blood of the weak!” Dest roared, punching his pincer through the abdomen of another target. “We are the Iron Warriors! This bastion of desperation and lies is NOTHING to us!”

Vel made an excited, completely indescribable sound in his head as the Rhino pilot swung his pincer again, flinging the dead hybrid into one of its kin. Then Dest blasted another victim with a firebolt, hurling it back into the wall with bright crimson flames devouring its face and chest.

A pair of claws suddenly sliced across Dest’s shoulder pad, carving much deeper into the ceramite than should have been possible before a large dagger stabbed into his elbow joint. Pain bloomed briefly, but that sensation was quickly eclipsed by further rage. The Possessed Chaos Marine whirled on his assailant, nearly taking off the squad leader’s head by that movement alone. The hybrid leapt back for distance, and then immediately pounced again.

Dest charged at the same time, and his servo blades descended on the impudent monster. Scything talons struck back at the same time, and the blades clashed against each other while each combatants’ larger limbs reared back to deliver a heavier blow.

Dest’s servo limbs were but a mechanical mockery of the Genestealer’s scything talons, but they proved to be more than a match for the cultist. Razor-edged adamantium carved through chitin and the underlying muscle, and the hybrid flinched. Dest’s blazing claws struck like a hammer, hurling the enemy off its feet with a fiery impact.

The Rhino pilot leapt after his victim in an instant, intending to crush the hybrid to a paste beneath his greaves. The cultist rolled out of the impact zone with surprising agility, sliding away onto his belly and then bolting on all fours. Dest twisted on one foot, Warpflame surging through his veins and Vel’s idiot hymns ringing in his ears.

Injured, burnt, and bleeding, the hybrid could not scuttle away fast enough, and the beak-like tip of Dest’s pincer claw pierced its back. He lifted the alien spawn off the ground, and then pulled his arm free amidst a jet of hot blood.

A moment later a different hybrid flew past him, spinning end over end, and slammed into the wall.

“That everyone?!” Applejack shouted, pawing the ground with her massive boots. Her armor had several new nicks and scars from where the cultists had struggled to fight back, and blood dribbled down her helmet tusks and greaves.

“No! Watch the big gun!” Dash shouted, suddenly taking off through the air.

She kicked the barrel of the autocannon, throwing it off its barricade mounting. The hybrid trying to move it was lying prone behind the sandbags, staying out of sight of Pinkie’s cannon. It promptly drew an autopistol and fired at the pegasus, who jolted to the side to evade and then turned into a wild corkscrew and blasted down the tunnel.

The cultist kept firing after her, probably for want of any better option. It managed four more near-misses before the power fist of a Dreadnought came down on top of it, bringing the firefight to a decisive conclusion.

“Area secure. Pie, advance down the tunnel and mark paths of advance,” Dest ordered, pointing a pincer dripping with blood down the hall. “Hess! Get out here and tell us where the bombs are placed!”

“Y-Yes, Lord!” Byron stuttered as he scrambled out into the exit path. He cringed away from the sight of the slaughtered hybrids laying all about the exit, but then steeled himself and raced to catch up to Pinkie. “The charges are buried in a cluster above this area. If we get about sixty meters out, we should be clear of the cave-in.”

“We will clear one hundred meters,” Dest growled, “then we will notify Sparkle to detonate the charges. MOVE!”

“Okay, Trixie has to admit this was a bit more what Trixie had in mind when she decided to come along,” Trixie said cheerily while she led Suuna and Serith into the tunnel passage. “A dramatic betrayal by desperate refugees, a heroic double-betrayal by our changeling, and a hopelessly one-sided melee to clear the way for Trixie’s retinue! This is how intergalactic adventures should be!”

“I am likewise pleased by the sudden reversal in our fortunes,” Serith remarked while he strolled alongside the unicorn, using his halberd as a walking stick. “The wretches of the underhive are a far more manageable threat than the might of the Imperial patrols.”

“Stop chatting like this is a midnight stroll through your idyllic equine city!” Dest snarled as he ran by. “The longer you tarry, the longer Sparkle has to hold the exit on her own!”

“Do relax, driver,” Serith drawled, stepping over the barricade that the hybrids had been manning, “what do you imagine these dregs would be able to conjure from their sad, broken hovels to challenge our fair Princess?”

Twilight had just finished closing the blast doors when the shriek of tearing metal reached her ears. It came from multiple directions at once, and she quickly pulled her head out from under the gate console to check what was happening.

In each of the three hallways that intersected at the room – excluding the path protected by the blast doors – a Genestealer dropped from a ventilation shaft in the ceiling or clambered out of maintenance hatch.

One of the aliens was struck down immediately by a bright purple beam, unable to dodge before it had completely pulled itself free of its vent. When Twilight shifted her focus to the next hall, however, the Genestealer was already on its feet and charging toward her.

“Twilight, are you shooting at something?” Rarity asked, her voice crackling through the vox link. “Did the cultists try another push after all?”

“N-No! Genestealers!” Twilight yelped, activating the blade mode of her harmonizer and swinging it at the alien in a wide arc.

The Genestealer hopped out of the path of the blade easily, but it earned Twilight enough time to shoot a magic bolt from her horn. The spell bolt struck the alien, knocking it back, and then lashed tendrils of pure magical force around the Genestealer to bind it.

“What?! Do you need help?!” Rarity asked.

“If I suddenly scream and vox contact cuts off, then yes! Otherwise, keep moving!” Twilight shouted, stabbing the harmonizer’s energy blade into her target and carving it open from hip to shoulder. The Genestealer shrieked angrily, but its cry rapidly weakened into a pitiful gurgling noise.

A loud, crackling discharge came from behind Twilight before she could turn to the last enemy, and she whirled around just in time for the smoldering corpse of the third Genestealer to slide to a stop at her hooves. She recoiled, and then bumped into something behind her.

She looked back, and then up. The face of Gaela’s hooded helmet stared back, servo arms curled over her shoulders and her ion blaster leaking smoke.

The shocked recognition only lasted for a second before realization dawned. “Chrysalis?! Why are you still here?!”

“Because you said I could do what I wanted,” she replied in a perfect imitation of the Techpriest’s voice.

“And you chose to stay here?! Why? What if I didn’t notice and left without you?” the young Princess admonished.

“That didn’t happen, so who cares?” the changeling retorted blandly.

Rarity’s voice interrupted again. “Twilight, darling, it sound like you need help. Hold on, I’ll-“

“No, keep going! We need to cut off this path of pursuit! Move to a safe distance as fast as possible!” Twilight ordered. “Also, the more people I have to teleport, the harder it is! That’s why I intended to stay behind on my own!”

A snarl came from down the left hall, and two more Genestealers dropped down from the ceiling vent.

“Please HURRY!” Twilight shouted before closing the vox link.

“You know, this would be much easier if you unlocked my warforms,” Chrysalis noted while her ion blaster started charging again. “The forms with terminator armor are really tricky to manage without the extra power.”

Twilight fired her harmonizer, blasting one of the aliens off of its feet. “I’m not unlocking your seals when I’m the only one here with you!”

“What are you afraid of? Can’t you kill me instantly?” Chrysalis fired both her ion blaster and the streaming laser, but the Genestealer hopped aside, dodging both. It kicked off the wall and flipped over the laser beam, and then started speeding toward the intruders once its feet touched the ground again.

“I can kill you quickly,” Twilight explained, her horn swirling with a purple glow. “That’s a meaningful difference if you also have plasma cannons at the time!”

A volley of sparkling magic bolts launched from her horn casing, each one shooting in a different direction before curving sharply toward the Genestealer. It tried to twist and evade, but the multiple angles made the attempt futile. The spell projectiles slammed home one after another, hammering the alien before the last one pitched it forward onto the ground.

Chrysalis swung her power axe down, carving deep into the Genestealer’s skull. “Look, if we’re going to work together, you can’t keep handicapping me when we’re surrounded by enemies or being chased down by enemy aircraft. I’m here to help you, aren’t I?”

“As far as I know, you’re here for your own entertainment!” Twilight retorted, grimacing when she spotted three more Genestealers squirming free of the vents. “You can still fight as you are, so stop complaining!”

“The big smelly freak gave you the key to these seals for a reason,” Chrysalis insisted before her ion blaster fired again. This time her target didn’t dodge in time, and the Genestealer released an agonized howl as it cooked in its own carapace shell.

“Yes, he did! And he specifically entrusted MY JUDGMENT when to use it, too!” The force harmonizer reverted to a blade again, and then spun through the air down one of the tunnels. The Genestealer bounded over the weapon, but the harmonizer suddenly reversed course to return to its user, slicing through the alien’s back.

“You’re only making this harder on both of us! You think I’m so eager to die?” The third Genestealer slid under a heavy laser blast and then kicked off the side of a rusted, empty container, vaulting through the air toward the changeling.

“Twilight, we’re at the rendezvous point! Byron says it’s clear!” Rarity shouted through the vox.

The Genestealer landed a mid-air swing against Chrysalis, punching a talon through her weaponized arm and knocking her to the ground. The Changeling Queen grunted in annoyance as she was pinned, with the Genestealer holding down both her arms and her servo-mounted laser. The fourth arm clamped over her face mask and tore it away, the claws slicing through the plating hinges – and a fair bit of the face beneath it – with ease.

“Detonate the charges!” Chrysalis shouted as the Genestealer’s jaws yawned open. Its tongue slithered out from behind needle-like teeth, bearing what appeared to be some kind of stinger.

Twilight saw further movement from the halls, but she turned back to the console and the control box wired under it. “Detonating!” she shouted into her vox as her magic depressed the button.

The sound of explosions immediately roared through the tunnels, and the ground trembled as the path beyond the doors was covered in rubble. Some of the stone that made up the walls and ceiling of the gate room was unsettled as well, and dozens of rocks broke loose to tumble onto the ill-kept flooring.

The Genestealer seemed unbothered by the detonation, intently focused on its next victim. It DID seem somewhat bothered when its victim’s single organic eye flashed a brilliant green and her face started swelling and warping horrifically. The ovipositor that was positioned to insert its terrible payload faltered, and then the Genestealer recoiled as a gaping mouth much larger than its own snapped at it, threatening to tear off its entire head with a single bite. The huge jaws slammed shut just millimeters from the alien’s face, but in avoiding a decisively lethal blow it had also released its enemy.

Chrysalis slammed her ion blaster into the Genestealer’s chest, discharging it at the same time. It was blown back from a burst of searing lightning, and a high-pitched shriek came from the monstrosity before Twilight’s fore harmonizer sunk into its chest.

“I have the lock! Stand up!” Twilight shouted, backing toward the changeling. An autogun round whipped by her head, and then another cracked against her shoulder pad from a different angle. Denizens of the refuge were rushing from all three tunnels, joined by furious hybrids and shrieking purestrain Genestealers. Twilight had to imagine this swarm had been waiting for them along some other escape route; had the cult attacked with these numbers right away, she and Chrysalis would have had a much harder time fending them off on their own.

The Changeling Queen stood back up, a guttural snarl issuing from her monstrous head. Twilight didn’t recognize the creature – Chrysalis surely had a much larger inventory of bodies than the ponies would ever know – but seeing its bulbous, bug-eyed head full of huge, curved teeth sitting in the gorget of Gaela’s power armor made her fur bristle.

“Good luck dealing with the kill teams! I hope you all die quickly and with minimal suffering!” Twilight said as power flooded her horn and a violet aura surrounded her and Chrysalis.

Then they vanished in a flash of colored light.

Twilight and Chrysalis materialized amidst a shroud of dust, popping back into reality in front of their allies.

A split second later there was a shotgun discharge, and Chrysalis howled in pain before she staggered back a step. Twilight yelped and ducked in surprise, and the other mares flinched.

“WHAAHT AH YOU DOOON?!” boomed the changeling, her voice horribly distorted by her monstrous throat. A green glow swallowed her body, and she rapidly shrunk to her true proportions while clutching the side of her face.

Erin Whyd grimaced, her expression mostly hidden behind her mask but her forehead furrowing. “I… I don’t… is she-“

“Good reflexes cowgirl, but she’s on our side,” Applejack chuckled.

“I’m so sorry dear, you must have been terribly startled,” Rarity said, gently patting Erin on the calf with a boot.

“Why are you apologizing to HER?! I’m the one that got shot!” Chrysalis complained. Dark, oily blood trickled from tears on her neck and cheek, but even at a glance the wound seemed trifling.

“Okay, let’s all just calm down,” Twilight pleaded, sighing and levitating a cloth from the pack tied to her flank. “Things escalated very quickly back there and we’re all a little on edge right now.” She started to dab at the injury with the cloth, which didn’t seem to alleviate the changeling’s mood much.

“A little on edge? Really? You told her the plan, why would she assume anyone you brought along wouldn’t be on our side?” Chrysalis asked.

Rainbow lifted her leg. “Well honestly I’m still a little confused about the sides around here. I guess the refugees are the bad guys now because they teamed up with the Tyranids? Does this mean the Imperium is good now?”

“It doesn’t. Admittedly I’m a lot less worried about their purges now that we know the reason for them, but we still have the same enemies as before. Just… more of them,” Twilight said as she packed away her dirtied cloth.

“What I want to know is how we’re so sure SHE isn’t one of them,” Chrysalis snarled, glaring at Erin. “She seems to be a leader of the refugees’ guards, she said she’s been with them for some time, and now she’s ‘accidentally’ shooting us!”

“I didn’t…” Erin’s fingers tightened around her weapon, but then she sighed and her shoulders slumped. “I suppose I don’t have much I can do to convince you, do I? I oversaw much of the scavenging and security for the sanctuary and somehow completely missed that aliens were picking off our people and… infecting them? Breeding new ones, apparently?” She shuddered. “Would… Would I even know for sure if I was also brainwashed or not?”

“You likely would not, no,” Serith agreed, his arms crossed over his chest. “Although, for what it’s worth, I have seen no signs of it yet. At the very least this cult’s master isn’t controlling her directly, as it did the elder.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Twilight said decisively. “Now let’s find a way out of here.”

“No,” Dest said. “I think the Queen is right.”

Twilight and the other ponies froze in alarm as the Possessed Astartes reloaded his boltgun. Chrysalis blinked in surprise, and Serith quickly turned to face the other Iron Warrior.

“She just had the wrong victim in mind,” Dest said grimly, aiming his boltgun at Trixie Lulamoon.

“… Oh. Wow. I thought for sure he meant me,” Byron mumbled, trying not to look quite as relieved as he felt.

“Wha… What are you doing?!” Trixie asked, rapidly moving from shocked to terrified to outraged. “Trixie is no cultist!” Suuna gasped and took a step back, silently clutching the artifact against her chest.

“And now Trixie’s bad again?! This is what I’m talking about! This is confusing!” Rainbow complained.

“Trixie is NOT bad! Trixie was never bad!” the magician shouted, slamming a boot into the ground. “Why would you think Trixie is infected?!”

“You vanished once we reached the sanctuary and when we found you, you had no recollection of where you went or what had happened. Your helmet was obviously removed by force, and you bear claw wounds on your neck,” Dest explained calmly, his boltgun trained on the unicorn’s head. “I’m almost embarrassed I didn’t realize it before now. You were obviously ambushed by Genestealers.”

The other mares seemed stunned by the explanation, but Trixie was adamant. “Nonsense! Trixie hasn’t been brainwashed!”

“She is correct, driver,” Serith agreed, stepping firmly between Trixie and Dest. “The mares have not been infected.”

“You wouldn’t be able to tell if they had been. You said so yourself,” Dest growled.

“If she didn’t get ambushed by Genestealers,” Twilight said nervously, “then what happened to her? I read about this on the Harvest, and Trixie’s circumstances seem to match a Genestealer ambush perfectly! If there’s no other explanation-“

“I did it,” Serith declared. Trixie and Suuna recoiled in surprise, but the Sorcerer kept his attention focused on the other Space Marine. “I confronted Lady Trixie in the underhive slum and inflicted that wound. I removed her helmet by force. THAT is how I know Genestealers did not attack her, and why I possessed her headgear when you saw me again.”

Dest said nothing, his visor lenses gleaming crimson. He didn’t put his boltgun down, either.

“Nothing to say, driver? Do you suppose I too have been corrupted by the alien?” Serith asked, his voice taunting.

“Obviously not. You have no flesh for the xeno to infect,” Dest agreed, “I just think you’re lying.”

“Wait what,” Byron mumbled, only to be ignored as the standoff escalated.

A wave of raw force blasted out from around Serith, clearing away the settling dust. Trixie and Suuna flinched away, and Byron nearly lost his footing. Electric arcs of black and purple started to crawl over Serith’s armor, and his cape billowed in an invisible wind.

“You think to accuse me, driver?” the Sorcerer said, his voice bubbling with anger underneath an icy veneer of calm. “Has that witless cretin within your mind finally stolen away your senses?” He lifted his force halberd into a combat stance.

“If you have an explanation for why you attacked the illusionist, let’s hear it,” Dest growled, the spines on his armor started to grow again as the daemon within him fed on the rising hostility. “I’m not going to lead an infected psyker back to the fleet because of your ridiculous games or sadistic curiosity.”

“Desty, maybe we could just trust Serith this one time? Please?” Pinkie asked nervously, lifting up the head of her Dreadnought to peer out at the confrontation.

“Ah dunno, Ah’d REALLY like to hear why Serith ended up attackin’ Trixie and how she got away with just a scratch,” Applejack mused.

“I don’t care what happens to the noisy blue unicorn but after one of you dies I really do want to discuss killing the humans too,” Chrysalis said, much to Twilight’s growing frustration. “I think I made a very good case!”

“No! Nobody’s going to die! We just escaped a horde of helpless brainwashed refugees and alien monsters and I am NOT going to let you start killing each other now!” Twilight shouted angrily.

“You can’t tell me you believe this tripe,” Dest said. He kept his bolter aimed straight at Serith’s abdomen, and small flames started flickering around his arms and shoulder. “The Sorcerer stands between a boltgun and the unicorn but we’re to believe he attacked her for some reason he won’t deign to give us?”

“Trixie supposes this must seem quite self-serving at this point to say so, but Trixie believes Serith completely,” the unicorn said, her horn slowly lighting up as she fed power to her armor systems. “Serith’s quirks are many and he’s hardly the most honest Iron Warrior, but inventing absurd stories is beneath him.” Suuna shivered, but she remained next to Trixie while holding the artifact.

“I needn’t explain myself to you, driver. You are not in command here, and your impudence offends me,” Serith hissed. Bits of cracked rock and debris started shaking, and some of the pebbles floated and swirled in the air chaotically as the ripples in reality washed over them. Slithering arcs of darkness seemed to emerge from the links of his armor, snaking up and down the length of his halberd and gathering in his free hand.

Byron and Erin scrambled backward to the cavern wall, their eyes wide in terror and awe. They had never been witness to even the most mundane of Space Marines before. To see Astartes squaring off each other while wielding powers beyond mortal understanding was completely overwhelming, even considering all the other obscene horrors they’d uncovered today.

The ponies were much more familiar with this degree of power and sudden violence, but they too quietly shifted to make space for the two Iron Warriors or escape any likely impact zones for missed attacks. Only Twilight remained between the two, heaving a deep breath and organizing another angry scolding in her head.

Or, at least that’s what she had thought before Fluttershy decloaked in front of her.

“Uhm, excuse me. Mister Dest?” the meek pegasus said, pawing slightly at the air with her foreleg.

“… Make it quick,” Dest commanded, his eyes locked on Serith as his unholy aura burned around him.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I hate to interrupt, but, well, I was just going over my earlier scan of Miss Trixie’s injury while you were arguing, and the cut definitely had many characteristics unique to wounds from power weapon disruption fields, rather than a cut from a very sharp claw. The, er, energy tends to leave these very distinctive micro-blisters behind on the surface. So, uhm, I feel very confident – well, maybe mostly confident? – that her injuries came from Serith’s halberd and not a Genestealer.”

Several seconds passed, the silence only disturbed by the crackling flames and the humming hoarfrost.

“I just wanted to say that, sorry! You can start fighting now!” Fluttershy squeaked, dashing off to the side and promptly winking out of sight again.

Twilight stared meaningfully at Dest. The Possessed Marine finally lowered his boltgun, and the embers around him faded as the tension drained away. Serith likewise relaxed his combat pose, and the waves of psychic power coming off of him ceased.

“… Very well. We can continue this discussion later, when the situation is less… tenuous,” Dest allowed, mag-locking his bolter to his hip. The spines covering his armor started to shrink, as if being slowly absorbed back into the armor plating.

“GOOD,” Twilight said firmly, jumping in before Serith could respond. “I need to write an update to Solon so that he knows what’s going on down here. Erin, do we have a route back to the surface from here?”

“Y-Yes,” she replied, still looking slightly dazed. “Several. The shorter ones tend to be the more dangerous paths, though.”

“We can handle dangerous. I don’t suppose you know the approximate geo-coordinates of the exits?”

“I do not, no. I know the landmarks and regional names, though.”

“Good enough. Choose one that’s unlikely to have Imperial troops waiting at the exit, please,” Twilight opened her pack with her magic, and then withdrew some parchment and a scribe’s pen.

“Maybe the Hexen Lodge exit?” Byron suggested.

“We’d have to circle around the water sumps, and last I heard the kill teams route through there all the time,” Erin replied. “We’ll go to Ein’s well. Ein is a surly thug but I doubt his scavenger teams would want to mess with a Dreadnought… as long as they haven’t been taken over by aliens, I guess. Then they’ll charge whatever they want.”

“Please describe the location, Miss Whyd. Preferably relative to structures or terrain features visible from orbit,” Twilight asked.

“Of course. There’s a checkpoint about six kilometers to the polar East. It hosts an armored division as a waypoint for deeper excursions into the surrounding forests…”

As Erin and Twilight worked on the message, Trixie quietly crept up behind Serith and then gently tapped her boot against his. The Sorcerer turned to face her, but didn’t speak.

“Ahem! Trixie just… wanted to thank you, Serith. For defending Trixie like that,” the unicorn said, looking somewhat embarrassed. “Sparkle was also preparing to help, but Trixie is under no illusions she could have actually stopped Dest.” Suuna nodded silently and bowed her head gratefully in agreement.

“… It would have been an unforgivable waste for you to be executed due to such a foolish error,” Serith said, turning his gaze away once again.

“Trixie completely agrees! What was he thinking?” she huffed. Then she glanced around and leaned in toward the Sorcerer. “But what DID happen to Trixie, anyway? It’s slightly alarming that you cut off Trixie’s helmet and Trixie remembers none of it.”

“A question for another time, my lady,” Serith assured her.

“Okay… but you’re SURE Trixie wasn’t secretly taken over and brainwashed, right?” she asked, her voice betraying a slight trace of fear.

“I’m quite certain the Genestealers did not infect you with their dread curse. Of that you can rest assured, Lady Trixie.”

“That… is not quite what Trixie asked.”

“Another time, my lady.”

“All right! We have our escape route!” Twilight’s horn casing flashed, and the parchment rolled up into a scroll and then vanished into a puff of purple flame. Erin seemed startled at the spell, but couldn’t bring herself to express great shock or request an explanation after everything else that had happened.

“Pinkie, you take the lead. Applejack, you have the rear. Suuna, I want you to remain in the center of our formation at all times! Erin, stay close to the front to guide us and watch for any potential traps or ambush points. If you see something suspicious, get Rainbow Dash to range ahead to check it out.”

“Rainbow Dash is me, by the way,” the pony in question interjected, jumping up into the air and doing a rapid spin. “I know we didn’t really do full introductions and you might not be paying attention because your entire world is falling apart, so just let me know if you have any questions about who’s who! I’m the cool, speedy pony who knows no fear!”

“Yes, fine. Just try not to set off any more traps,” Twilight sighed. “And also, when our allies are getting ready to fight each other, I don’t want you placing bets on the winner, Dash.”

“AJ YOU SNITCH!!” Rainbow shouted.

“It wasn’t me!” the farmer protested.

“Rarity?!”

“I think you’re the one snitching now, darling.”

“PINKIE?!”

“I just thought it was kind of a bad idea,” Pinkie mumbled. “… Although I had 200 bits on Desty, of course.”

“Then you should be grateful to the cowardly mare that she spared you your loss,” Serith said, the sneer evident in his voice. “Shall we depart? This banter is entertaining but the cults are likely moving to intercept us as we speak.”

“Right! Let’s move out!”

Ghessheim system
Harvest of Steel
Landing bay 17

“Refined materials, bank D! Munitions, small arms, bank A! Food supplies, bank A! Raw materials, bank F!”

Wind Chime flew over the cargo stacks being slowly moved through the enormous hold, shouting out the proper receptacles for the larger cargo units. A slate of bright orange glassine was attached to her headgear and extended over one eye, picking out the meme-tags left by the auto-brands and listing them for the pegasus. The dataslate clamped awkwardly between her forelegs recorded each scan, organizing the cargo tag according to its type and listing its dimensions for later use.

Lift servitors stomped back and forth at the large doors leading further into the ship, hauling, dragging, or pushing the various containers. From above the loading bay resembled a cluster of insects hard at work, rapidly feeding the stolen cargo where it could be tracked and accessed easily.

“Hey! HEY!” Jewel Bracer shouted, bringing all the movement around her to an immediate halt. “You there, in the back! Take from the TOP of the cargo stacks, not the middle! You’re going to bring down that whole pile!”

Wind Chime quickly whirled in the air, zipping across the hangar with her micro caster to her mouth. “Please be careful! Accidents impede productivity, damage valuable resources, and most importantly, shorten worker lifespans! Safety is always our number one priority!”

The worker gently backed away from the cargo, his hands up and his face darkened from embarrassment. Jewel Bracer just nudged her head to the side. “There’s a ladder over there. Get a buddy to help you set it up and you can get those cylinders at the top of the stack, okay?”

The Dark Techpriests tracking the flow of inventory were discussing whether or not to correct Wind Chime on the nature of their priorities when the main entrance opened up once more. The Iron Warriors standing guard turned to check on the incoming personnel, and then let another Techpriest into the hangar bay. He was followed by numerous guards belonging to the Merchant Corp, who briefly scanned the area before letting Trademaster Delgan into the hangar. The Dark Techpriests turned their full attention to the new arrivals, and then quickly moved down the observation platform’s stairs to intercept them.

“Interrogative: Why have additional units been dispatched to this work zone? Further assistance was not requested,” buzzed one of the machine cultists.

He was expecting a response from his peer, but it was Norris Delgan who stepped forward to explain. “We’ve been instructed to conduct a surprise inspection,” the Trademaster said, making a shallow bow. “I’m afraid this will be disruptive to your operation by design. It is quite necessary, however.”

“Expound,” commanded the Techpriest.

The Techpriest that had just entered was setting up a pair of seats in front of a device most notable for the long, thin tubes extended from it. A unicorn pony was with him, opening a box full of needles and attaching one to the machine’s primary tube.

The Techpriest turned away from his work briefly and bleated something in Binaric Cant. Then he went back to the assembly, attaching the device to the local power supply.

“…… Affirmative, Trademaster. You may begin,” offered the Dark Techpriest reluctantly. “Do you require assistance?”

“No, but I want to confirm that these menials have been isolated from the rest of the ship and kept under quarantine protocols,” Delgan said.

“Affirmative. Addendum: It is standard procedure to isolate new workers away from other crew populations and critical systems until we have departed the system they were seized from.”

“Of course. Primarily to catch spies or prevent any sudden ‘heroics’ among our new staff, but quite fortuitous in this case, too,” Delgan noted.

“Trademaster, we’re ready,” said the pony tending to the machine. She was a light pink unicorn with a pitch black mane that was swept to one side, covering half of her face. Her cutie mark was a scalpel among a crimson swirl, exposed for all to see since she only wore the top half of her medicae uniform.

“Good.” Delgan raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

Wind Chime jolted, and then whirled about in surprise. Jewel Bracer also turned her head, although her reaction was more muted. Both mares rushed back across the hangar to meet the Trademaster, looking perplexed and slightly worried.

“Lord Trademaster, is something wrong?” Jewel asked cautiously once she reached a comfortable speaking distance. Wind Chime hovered over her, looking even more worried.

“Perhaps. We are here to ascertain that,” Delgan said, clasping his arms behind his back. “Your new instructions are as follows: You’re to gather two workers. They will be secured and undergo a brief test. When that is complete they will be escorted into the ship for a long break. You will then gather two more workers. This will continue until there are no more workers in the hangar. Is that understood?”

Wind Chime and Jewel Bracer shared a dubious glance, and then nodded sharply.

Across the hangar, two of the workers silently watched the encounter. Their brows furrowed as they stared at the device that was set up next to the seats. They couldn’t identify it, but the clear tubes and sterilized needles provided a strong clue as to the nature of the machine. They had endured a brief bio-scan screening when they had been captured and granted a contract, but nothing extensive.

Then the overseer ponies ordered the nearest menials over to the chairs, and the Techpriest strapped them down.

The workers turned to each other, their expressions grim. One nodded. Then they turned and started moving deeper into the hangar.

“Lord Trademaster, Sir, won’t this, uh, testing or whatever it is interfere with the operation?” Wind Chime asked nervously.

“Yes. Unfortunate, but necessary. The omega rotation will be finishing things here. It will still take longer though, as they’re a bit short-handed,” Delgan explained.

“They are? Isn’t that rotation a little bigger than this one?” Jewel Bracer asked.

“Not anymore, no.”

The overseer ponies stared blankly, well aware of the implications of that reply but unable to think of what exactly might have happened. One of the workers had a needle inserted into his arm, and soon after blood started to flow through a tube and into the mysterious device. The other menial seemed to test his restraints, and despite having sat down willingly he began to grow alarmed.

“What are you doing? What is this?” He shouted, twisting back and forth in his seat. “Nobody said nothing about a blood draw!”

The Dark Techpriest shrieked something in Binaric, but before he could interfere the unicorn mare reared up and propped her front hooves against the restraint chair.

“Please refrain from any sudden movement. It’s just a little prick and we’re all done, ‘kay?” she said brightly, smiling down at the man. “My name is Doctor Claret Heartthrob, by the way! What’s your name?”

“I… I’m Wilson Briggs,” the man said, still somewhat wild-eyed.

“Nice to meet you, Wilson! Thanks for being such a good patient for me!” Claret grinned and flicked her ear, which had several silver studs in it. She also had a pair of rings around her horn, and a chain linked between them that quivered gently as it began to glow a bright red. “I know it can be a bit scary having your fluids drawn, but I want to assure you that SNEAK ATTACK!”

The needle suddenly plunged into his arm on the opposite side from where Claret was, and he yelped in pain and squeezed his eyes shut. Blood ran through the tube connected to the needle, and after a few seconds Claret lifted it back out with her magic.

“There you go, big guy!” she said brightly, levitating a bandage and slapping it over the puncture wound on his arm. “Just give it a second to process and you’re good to go!”

She stepped over to the device, which was being manned by a Dark Techpriest. Delgan walked over to her, lowering his voice so that their patients couldn’t hear.

“You have a fascinating bedside manner, Doctor Heartthrob,” the Trademaster said conversationally.

“Oh, YOU,” she flushed, fluttering the only eyelash visible past her mane. “But please, call me Claret! My last name is unnecessarily salacious.”

“Of course, Doctor Claret.” Delgan glanced behind him at the increasingly uncomfortable workers secured to the examination chairs. “Do we have Mister Briggs’ results?” he asked, lowering his voice further.

Claret looked up at the machine. There were multiple blinking lights of different colors and strips of tape being printed all over the face of the machine, which made it a confusing, senseless jumble to the Trademaster. The unicorn medicae gave it barely a glance before her smile widened.

“Looks like he’s clean! Just afraid of needles, I guess! Poor guy,” she said, chuckling into a hoof.

“Excellent. And the other?”

Claret Heartthrob stopped chuckling and her smile became much smaller. She didn’t answer him verbally, but instead raised her hoof to her neck and drew it to the side. The Techpriest next to Delgan blurted something in Binaric Cant, and then nodded in agreement.

Delgan turned around and made a gesture to the armed men waiting at the exit. “Escort this man back to his bunk room,” he ordered, pointing to Wilson Briggs. Then he pointed to the other worker. “Give this one a tour of the calefactor.”

The masked soldiers rushed into action, surrounding the examination chairs and looming over them while the Dark Techpriest disengaged their bonds. The way both men were seized and hauled away from the test site it wouldn’t be at all obvious which one was being carried to his untimely death.

“Next!” the Trademaster bellowed while Claret swapped the needles and the Dark Techpriest cleaned the feed tubes.

“What are they doing? Where are Wilson and Hayes going?” one of the menials asked while wiping the sweat from his brow. Many other workers had slowed in their labor as well, watching perplexed as their fellows were hauled away.

“It looks like they injected them with something?”

“Or maybe drew some blood? Is it a test? Did those two fail or something?”

“Why would they be doing this here in the hangar rather than at the bunks? Crazy…”

Two menials strode past the others, occasionally stopping in front of several other workers and whispering something in their ears. Those they spoke to followed, and they walked through the cargo bay toward a particular metal crate in front of a pair of stacked shipping containers.

Without hesitation or further discussion the menials started opening the crate, disengaging the mag-lock and lifting the top. Several autoguns of various make and design were loosely stacked inside, but rather than marking the crate the workers started handing out the guns among the small mob they had formed.

“Excuse me!”

Several of the workers jumped in surprise, and then realized that Wind Chime was watching them from atop the shipping containers.

“Please do NOT handle the content of the cargo! Besides being potentially dangerous, these items belong to the fleet, and… hey, are you listening?”

As the menials started handing out ammunition magazines and loading their weapons, Wind Chime had to conclude that they were not, in fact, listening to her.

“Hey! Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!” the pegasus shouted through the micro-caster, alerting the entire hangar bay. “Put down that gun this instant, young man! Don’t make me-YEEEP!!”

She ducked down as one of the menials opened fire at her, pressing her body tight against the top of the container. “Help! Someone stop them! SECURITY!!”

As shock and confusion spread throughout the hangar, the cultists began opening the shipping containers their overseer was sheltering on. Locks were unsealed, chains were shot apart, and the doors on the container of “plasteel ingots” opened up.

Seconds later, Purestrain Genestealers started clambering out onto the deck, snarling angrily at having their hibernation interrupted.

+Engage insurgency protocol beta. Activating sector quarantine,+ a Dark Techpriest sputtered, his hands and augmetic implements working at the control console. Blast doors slammed shut over all the exits and entrances, and alarm klaxons began to blare. +Inform all security teams. Lethal force has been authorized.+

The Dark Techpriest withdrew a pistol that resembled a brass-etched antique, with a bulbous wooden stock and a daemon’s mouth for a barrel. He pulled back the hammer, and a flickering orange flame started to leak out the end.

“Imperative: Eliminate all hostiles. Carve out this xeno-borne cancer and return to work. DESTROY.”

“It seems the testing cycle has ended early,” Delgan commented glibly as his soldiers started rushing to cover. “Miss Bracer?”

“Eh?” The earth pony was clearly very confused, but she gave Delgan her full attention as the sounds of gunfire started to fill the hangar. Several of the armed workers were forming a firing line behind the containers with a clear view to the exits, but they were swiftly suppressed once the two Astartes standing guard ran into cover and started shooting back. Delgan’s guards likewise formed a gun line, and the combination of streaming lasfire and mass-reactive rounds dominated the firefight in short order.

“Have the workers already moved any fuel supplies or unstable explosives?” Delgan asked suddenly.

Jewel Bracer blinked. “Uh, yes, I think so. There’s several medium-sized canisters of promethium that we moved into the resource bays a little while ago. Why do you-“

“I see them!” Delgan interrupted before drawing his power sword. The canisters were long, pill-shaped vessels, laid out next to each other on the belt leading deeper into the ship.

“Techpriests! Evacuate! You’re too close!” the Trademaster shouted, pointing his blade to the vessel. The observation platform they were standing on was elevated, and well-protected with barrier walls that provided excellent cover. They were positioned right over the resource bays, however.

“Contra: Those containers are rated to resist small-arms fire,” bleated one of the tech-cultists while the other one jumped down from the platform and started running across the hangar. “Excise the insurgent ele-“

A small det-charge – probably scavenged from other supplies in the hangar – suddenly sparked beneath the fuel vessel, and the other pirates flinched away as the promethium container detonated. The control platform was torn apart along with its sole remaining occupant, and several of the servitors stuck in place after the blast doors closed were engulfed in flames.

“Blasted xeno slaves,” Delgan grumbled.

“Wh… H-How did you know they’d do that?” Jewel Bracer asked, ducking behind the examination chair for cover.

“This isn’t the first worker rebellion I’ve been forced to put down, Miss Bracer. Whether a product of insidious alien corruption or insufficient work ethic, these wretches play the same asinine tricks.” He withdrew a small green capsule from his belt and tossed it into his mouth. “Tricks aside, however, these rabble are little threat. The security I have on hand and the two Iron Warriors should be more than a match.”

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!” Wind Chime flew across the hangar with desperate speed, shrieking as loud as she could into her micro-caster. “MONSTERS!! THEY HAVE MONSTERS!! HELP!!”

“Oh, for the love of Tzeentch,” Delgan groaned as the first Genestealers began bounding over the containers and into the fray.

“XENO!! Target the alien!” roared an Iron Warrior, shifting his focus at the first sight of the four-armed monstrosities. Bolters, lasguns, and pulse rifles converged on the new target in moments, pouring through the area of empty deck space between the exits and the vast piles of cargo which had yet to be sorted and moved. It was cut down almost instantly, unable to dodge such a wide fusillade.

Two more Genestealers leapt over cover, snarling angrily while they sprinted across the room. Behind them, the Genestealer Cultists stood up and opened fire again now that most of the enemy soldiers had more important targets. Bullets and lasers and crackling pulse blasts criss-crossed the hangar, all the while under the grating whine of the alarms.

“Stand up, brothers! The enemy stands before you!” shouted one of the armed menials, thrusting his autogun into the air and beckoning toward another cluster of containers.

Dozens of workers had ducked into hiding rather than joining the battle, confused and horrified by the sudden outbreak of fighting. Those men and women stared at the insurgents in slack-jawed awe, shocked and amazed that the other menials would suddenly attack the Chaos pirates in their own ship. When one of the fighters beckoned to them, however, none of them stood up.

“Your Emperor demands you take the fight to these traitorous heretics!” the gunman said, sweeping a hand toward the Iron Warriors. “WE are the vanguard of His justice!”

A Genestealer sprinted by in front of the man, jumping on top of a large case of lumen fixtures and then leaping into the crossfire.

“… Was that thing also the vanguard of the Emperor’s justice?” spat one woman kneeling behind a stack of piping.

“The Emperor works in mysterious ways!” the insurgent shouted, turning back to the firefight and loosing a burst across the room.

Then a small orb of bright orange struck the man in the shoulder, and he suddenly collapsed into a pile of superheated grains.

“Imperative: STAND DOWN OR BE TERMINATED,” howled the Dark Techpriest, smoke pouring from the barrel of his pistol. Tiny servo arms started the unnecessarily laborious process of reloading the weapon, and a pair of servo arms with attached stub-carbines sprayed a constant torrent of bullets at the Genestealer Cultists.

Two more Purestrain Genestealers leapt out into the open deck and charged the Techpriest, but one caught a series of lasblasts in the leg and staggered. A mass-reactive bolt round finished it off, boring into its chest and blasting a gaping crater into its torso. As it fell the other Genestealer leapt, clearing a spray of bullets as the servo-mounted guns tried to intercept its approach.

“WARNING!” screeched the Techpriest as the Genestealer landed on him, slashing one servo limb off and driving a claw straight through his breast plate. The tech-cultist fell, and oil mixed with blood within his robes as the alien assailant withdrew its talons.

The Techpriest tried to bring his axe up to attack, but the alien simply swatted his arm away, knocking the weapon to the ground. The mask of glimmering green optics watched helplessly as the Genestealer chambered an arm for a killing blow, unable to resist further.

Then a brilliant blue flash erupted from above the alien’s body, and its head fell from its neck.

“Techpriest Galvon, are your wounds mortal?” Delgan kicked the decapitated Genestealer off of the cyborg, and then kneeled down next to him. His power sword glowed a brilliant blue while it burnt away the alien ichor, and his bracers hummed with energy as they wrapped his forearms in swirling force shields.

“Analyzing… chances of imminent unit shutdown are 62% without prompt medicae treatment,” the Techpriest bleated.

“Looks like I’ve got work to do, then!” Claret shouted, sliding to a stop behind the prone Techpriest. Her horn lit up, and a scalpel and micro-torch slipped out of the pocket on her uniform. “I’ll take care of him, Trademaster! If you can keep us from getting shot or eviscerated, I mean.”

The Techpriest blurted something in Binaric Cant while she started digging into the armor breach.

“Yes, I know how to triage bionics. Now please lay still and reduce fluid pressure to… what’s this block number… uh, six, one, seven?” Her scalpel gently floated into the wound, and then the micro-torch ignited.

“You can understand Binaric?” Delgan asked, crouching next to a long metal crate.

“No, not at all. You can usually get a sense of what they’re saying by the tone and context, though. It’s a surprisingly expressive language!” The scalpel suddenly dove into the wound, and several of the Techpriest’s servo arms twitched in sympathy to the pain. “Please excuse me, Trademaster. I need to concentrate for this part.” The micro torch descended into the wound, and a crackling hiss came from the contact.

Delgan wordlessly acknowledged Claret’s request, and then checked the disposition of the battle. The Genestealers that had rushed the Iron Warriors were dead, but the insurgents had used the diversion to reinforce their firing line and dig in, and had cut down a few of the Merchant Corp guards in the process. Neither the Company troops nor the enemy were near breaking yet, but there was no obvious way the Tyranid-infected workers could prevail; even if they managed to stop the Space Marines, their elimination was inevitable. The Iron Warriors had endless reinforcements and supplies within the flagship and the insurgents apparently hadn’t even snuck in enough Genestealers for a successful charge.

If victory was impossible, what else would their goal be? A last stand before they were all rooted out and destroyed? That was the obvious answer, but since they had somehow smuggled Genestealers onto the flagship it wasn’t the only one.

Delgan stood up and pointed his sword toward the left side of the enemy firing line. “SUPPRESSIVE FIRE!!” he barked, promptly dashing across an open stretch of deck. Heavy laser fire washed over the modular containers the insurgents were using for cover, burning dozens of holes into the metal shielding in seconds. A worker that stood up for too long trying to aim a burst at the swordsman was struck down by a pair of lasblasts, and a second one that was simply a second late in ducking had his shoulder blown apart by a bolt round.

Norris Delgan reached another stack of containers for cover, only for a menial to jump out from behind them with a stub pistol. The second lost in order to bring about and aim the weapon proved too much, and in a flash of blue light the gun and much of the man’s hand was sliced apart. The worker staggered backward, and Delgan advanced with a second swing of his blade that finished him off.

“Trademaster, above you!” Wind Chime screamed from the scaffolding near the top of the hangar bay.

Delgan bolted forward, barely staying ahead of a Genestealer that leapt at him from above. He wasn’t even sure which cargo pile it had been hiding on, and when the alien missed its feet hit the deck with a disturbingly feather-light tap. A feral hiss came from the xeno monstrosity, and Delgan turned to meet it with an oath on his tongue.

The alien darted forward, slashing with both it right arms, and the Trademaster parried with his free hand. The bracer around his arm flashed a bright orange, its oscillating particle screens converging on the impact of the talons. The Genestealer’s claws bounced off with a level of force it apparently found surprising, and it was forced to rebalance itself on one leg.

Delgan’s power sword struck, slicing off both of the alien’s left arms in a single swing. He immediately turned away from a counter-slash that came far too close to landing. Genestealers were very powerful and dexterous melee fighters, and the Trademaster was quite concerned that some of them were apparently hiding in reserve rather than charging into the enemy.

Delgan blocked another strike, deflecting the alien’s claw to the side once more. This time it was ready, however, and dove in to bite him directly. The moment the Genestealer opened its jaws Delgan fed it his power sword, stabbing straight into its brain case and punching through the back of its skull.

“Disgusting,” Delgan sneered as the alien went limp. He kicked the Genestealer corpse off his blade, hurling it into the open deck. Then he took a moment to collect himself.

“Sir! Trademaster Delgan!” Wind Chime shouted again from above. “In the back! The four-armed aliens are crawling into the ventilation shafts!”

“What?!” Delgan exclaimed. A string of bullets scythed across his position, and stub rounds ricocheted harshly off the crate at his back.

“On both sides of the hangar! They’re YEEP!” Wind Chime flinched and ducked down when a bullet crashed against the railing next to her.

“We cannot wait for the other security teams!” growled one of the Iron Warriors, drawing his combat knife. “Techpriest! Close the emergency ventilation shutters!”

“Acknowledged. Primary, secondary, and tertiary vent shutters engaged,” replied the tech-cultist that had come to test the workers. “Warning: Obstructions of this degree will provide only temporary hindrance to these xenos.”

“Then HURRY!” snarled the Iron Warrior, leaping over the barricade. The other Chaos Marine joined him, and several of Delgan’s guards stood up to give them cover fire during the charge.

“Miss Bracer!” Delgan shouted over the intensifying din of gunfire. “Get a grenade belt and come to me!”

“Y-Yes Sir!” the mare shouted, immediately leaving her hiding spot and rushing to the nearest soldier. Stub rounds and lasers flashed back and forth across the hangar, but with the Space Marines leading a charge on one side of the room her sprint went mostly unnoticed.

“This is somewhat beneath my pay grade, but such is the pirate’s life,” Delgan murmured, peeking out at the enemy firing line. The Genestealer Cultists were falling back from their cover, trying to spread out and surround the Astartes so they could attack from all directions while the Space Marines had to chase each victim. Not the worst tactical response to an Astartes charge, but it would barely serve to delay them. These fools were selling their lives to ensure that the aliens could get deeper into the ship.

With a derisive snort, Delgan left his cover.

In two seconds he was behind one of the armed workers. The infected menial was facing away from him, spewing burst after burst from his autogun at the Chaos Space Marines tearing through his comrades. He didn’t even realize there was another threat before a power sword swung for his neck, striking his head clean off.

Delgan reached the next target just as she turn her stub carbine toward him, howling an incoherent prayer to the aliens that had enslaved her. His blade sliced upward, and the carbine was cut in two. The blade came down again, and the menial died with an enraged shriek.

“Trademaster! I have the grenades!” shouted Jewel Bracer, jumping over a case of water purifiers and ducking behind a crate. The belt was hung over her neck, the attached explosives jostling and rattling with every step. “What now?!”

Delgan slid out of the way as a menial fired a stub pistol at him, and then cut off the man’s arm with a single sword strike. “Just a moment.” The laborer reeled back, and then suddenly charged again with a crazed howl.

Delgan leapt backward with a disgusted grunt, avoiding the lunge. Another wide slash sent the corrupted menial spinning onto the floor, bleeding profusely from his chest.

“This way, Miss Bracer. Miss Chime! Please alert us if there’s any more ambushers!” the merchant shouted before rushing up to another large shipping container.

“But they shoot at me when I shout!” Wind Chime complained, hugging onto a high above girder. The very next moment another stub round ricocheted off the supports above her, and the pegasus started to cry.

“You’re a far more difficult target than we are, you’ll be fine!” Delgan barked, peeking around the end of the shipping container. A shotgun promptly fired in his direction, and Delgan ducked back as the blast tore across the heavy crate.

“Well that’s not good,” Delgan grumbled, dusting off his sleeve.

“What are we going to do? What’s taking the security teams so long?!” Jewel Bracer asked.

“Probably checking every corridor on the way to ensure no saboteurs are sneaking deeper into the ship,” Delgan mumbled. Then he kneeled down and lowered his voice. “Miss Bracer, I want you to count to five and then sprint across the opening.”

“Wh-What? Why? Why me?” she stuttered.

“As a diversion. Just keep your head down; you’ll be fine. They mostly aim at human chest level.” Delgan turned to face the shipping container they were hiding behind and grabbed onto the top corner with his free hand, bracing one foot against the side. “Begin.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this!” Jewel complained as she started the countdown in her head.

“If you get hit, you can expect a bonus for the trouble,” Delgan assured her. “So long as you survive, of course.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!” Jewel Bracer started screaming as she leapt out of cover, bolting from behind one cargo container to another. As predicted a shotgun fired the moment she was sighted, and also as predicted the shot went high, cutting closely enough to tear off some of her mane.

She scrambled behind a stack of crates, and then curled up tightly as stub rounds hammered the containers next to her. One of the smaller boxes broke under the barrage and tipped over, spilling its cargo of chemical beads onto the quivering pony.

There were two workers suppressing her position from behind several neopolymer ingots stacked into barricades, with a third trying to find an angle to shoot the pegasus who kept spotting them from the ceiling. None of them heard Delgan’s footsteps against the shipping container over the rattle of autogun fire. The Trademaster landed with a wide diagonal slash, slicing one man fully in two with a brilliant arc of electric blue.

The shotgunner turned to face the threat, and Delgan seized the weapon with his free hand, holding its aim toward the third opponent. The shotgunner pulled the trigger in a panic, sending his ally to the ground on a wash of hot blood. Delgan promptly skewered the last insurgent, plunging his blade deep into the brainwashed menial’s abdomen.

“You have my thanks for missing my subordinate. You saved me a bonus payment,” the Trademaster said, yanking the shotgun from the menial’s weakening grip. “You are now dismissed.”

Delgan kicked the menial off of the blade of his power sword, and then withdrew a cloth from his pocket. “Miss Jewel Bracer! The area is secure. Bring the grenades.”

The mare poked her head out from cover, and then bolted across the open deck to her employer. The battle on the other side of the hangar was reaching its conclusion, with the Iron Warriors chasing down the last of the armed workers and executing them. The combat was nearly over, but the threat was not.

Jewel Bracer gulped when she joined the Trademaster and saw their objective: an air vent in the wall, just above the floor, with its grill covering shredded apart. It was the sort of damage that probably would have gone unnoticed among the carnage if it weren’t for Wind Chime spotting where the Genestealers went.

“That space looks pretty small. Are you sure something as big as those four-armed monsters could get in there?” Jewel Bracer asked nervously, looking around for any other potential hiding spaces.

“Tyranids are disgustingly dynamic and insidious creatures. If Miss Chime said they were squeezing in there, I believe her.” He paused to rap his knuckles against the bulkhead. “The vent has a downward incline from this hangar, I believe. Detach several of the grenades, but don’t remove the arming pins. We’re going to throw them inside in rapid sequence. MISS WIND CHIME!”

A surprised squeak came from above.

“The enemy is defeated! Come down here!” Delgan barked. “Doctor Claret! If you can assist, come here!”

“Do you want her to help grenade this vent, or to look at that cut?” Jewel Bracer asked.

“Grenades. I’ve found that unicorn levitation is very…” Delgan trailed off. “Cut? What cut?”

The Trademaster looked behind him, and saw to his alarm that there were spots of bright red on the deck that matched his path to the vent. It was difficult to tell at a glance given the rest of the blood and gore spread across the area, but he was sure it was from him. He didn’t feel a thing aside from a slight dampness on his back that he had mistaken for sweat. Partially a result of the cut being so shallow, but surely his combat drugs contributed to it as well.

“That damnable xeno beast!” Delgan snapped, his face turning red in anger. “I thought it missed entirely! This jacket is ruined now!”

“Okay, yeah, I don’t think that’s going to wash out but the bigger problem is…” Jewel Bracer trailed off, and her ear twitched. “Hey… do you hear-“

The sound of something sliding roughly against metal was all the warning Jewel Bracer got before the top end of a Genestealer erupted from the duct opening with one claw reaching for her throat. The mare screamed and reared up, kicking her forelegs in a panic. Wind Chime also screamed and flailed, despite still being some thirty feet away and airborne and therefore completely safe.

Delgan reacted more decisively, stabbing his power sword into the top of the alien. The sword punched through the base of its neck and pierced down into the floor, cutting into the metal deck plating and pinning the Genestealer in place. This left only its head and one arm free from the vent, with the rest of its body still squeezed inside.

“YEEEEEEEEEEEK!! LET GO LET GO LET GO!!” the alien had missed Jewel Bracer’s head but had seized the grenade belt instead. Jewel Bracer tugged and flailed desperately to get free, but the Genestealer’s single arm held firm, even despite the devastating wound inflicted to the monster. With a snarl, the Genestealer started to drag her closer.

“Blasted insects!” Delgan growled, kicking the alien’s head. “This is why I require TWO swords!” He continued hold down the blade that had impaled the enemy, unsure if the sword had dug deep enough to keep the Genestealer pinned without his weight. If it got just one more arm free it would become a significantly greater threat.

“HELP!! Keep it AWAY!!” Jewel Bracer cried, trying to kick at the Genestealer’s claw with absolutely no success.

“I’m TRYING!” Delgan shouted back, planting his foot into the alien’s neck. “Accursed xeno monster! You’re going to cost me her hazard pay!”

“TRADEMASTER DELGAN, PLEASE STEP AWAY FROM THE XENO!! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY SAFETY ANNOUNCEMENT!!” Wind Chime shouted through her micro-caster, startling the others.

The moment Delgan drew back, a small orange orb struck the Genestealer in the head. The alien’s furious snarls trailed off as it disintegrated into glowing sparks, its chitin and internals melting off the power sword in an instant. A rash of yellow stuck to the blade’s edge where it had touched the alien, rapidly darkening as the weapon cooled.

“Proximate threat terminated. Proceed with subsystem purge.” The Dark Techpriest approached them with smoke wafting from the barrel of his strange antique pistol and a significant limp in his gait. There was also a bandage wrapped around his torso, already stained extensively with various fluids.

Claret Heartthrob trotted up behind him, looking quite pleased with herself. “Sorry about the delay, Trademaster. Our technical support is back on his feet.”

Dark Techpriest Galvon blasted something in Binaric, and Claret tittered into her hoof. “You’re welcome, Techpriest! Just try to minimize articulated movement on your right side, okay? Fluid pressure isn’t going to be nominal until you get those tubing bundles rebuilt.”

“Miss Bracer! The grenades!” Delgan shouted, yanking his sword out of the deck.

“R-Right!” Jewel Bracer shook her head to clear it, and then slipped the belt off of her neck. Then she stared at the many fragmentation canisters questioningly. “Ah, I have to pull the pin, and then they’ll explode, right? Is there any way to-“

Claret’s horn flashed, and an aura of dark red swept over the belt in Jewel’s hooves. All the pins snapped loose of the fragmentation grenades, falling to the floor in a careless pile.

“Yeep!” Jewel Bracer shoved the entire belt into the vent opening, and then covered her face with her hooves.

A few second later a thunderous blast was heard from the ventilation shaft, followed by a brief, angry shriek.

“Status update: ventilation section H-913.8 internal shutters remain intact. Hostile non-responsive. Flagging duct system for deep scan and corpse removal. Sector quarantine downgraded until complete sweep is complete.” Dark Techpriest Galvon swiveled away after speaking, limping back to the burnt-out remains of the observation platform.

“Well that… could have gone worse? I think?” Wind Chime asked nervously.

“It seems the security team is finally here,” Delgan sighed, cleaning the strange particulate remains that had been burned onto the blade of his sword. “Let’s finish up here.”

“Do you want me to look at your back?” Claret asked, eyeing the long, blood-soaked tear in the Trademaster’s coat.

“Later, Doctor. Some of my men have been shot. Attend to them immediately,” Delgan commanded. “If not treated immediately, I may have to pay for augmetic implants later, and this farce is already threatening my bottom line.”

“Of course, Trademaster,” Claret Heartthrob said with a nod and a small smile.

Delgan led the other mares toward the middle of the hangar where the newly arrived security team had met with the Iron Warrior guards. Dead bodies and blood slicks were scattered about the area, and in the middle some twenty menials were kneeling on the deck, hands behind their heads. Most held the position in fearful silence, but some of the workers were babbling in terror or weeping openly. A ring of Iron Warriors surrounded them, and a unit champion with a power fist was directing the newly arrived soldiers.

“My Lord,” Delgan said smartly, stepping up behind the better-armed Astartes and bowing deeply. “We fed fragmentation charges into the ventilation shaft on the other side of the hangar. Techpriest Galvon reports that the situation is stable, but is preparing a more extensive probe to ensure the xeno threat was eliminated.”

“We have done the same on this side,” the champion barked, his voice laced with malice and anger. “We will conduct deep bio-scans and search any containers large enough to transport Genestealers. Your operations are suspended until the check is complete. Get out of the way, merchant.”

“Yes, Lord.”

Then the Iron Warrior gestured to the workers kneeling behind him. “Escort these fools to the Calefactor and toss them in. In addition, by the Warsmith’s order we are to take no more slaves or contractors from this system.”

“Unfortunate,” Delgan mumbled.

“Hey, wait, why do these workers have to be fed into the reactor? They didn’t do anything wrong,” Jewel Bracer complained.

“Silence, equine,” the Chaos Space Marine snapped. “Any one of these wretches could be hiding Tyranid corruption.”

“I thought we could screen for that, though,” Wind Chime interjected.

“Ladies, do not argue with the Iron Warrior,” Delgan warned, still standing stiffly at attention.

“Heed your master’s words, slave,” the champion growled, staring down at Jewel Bracer. “These vermin will be disposed of, and if you persist in your defiance you shall join them.”

The menials became increasingly miserable, and several more began openly sobbing. The Astartes champion glared down at Jewel Bracer, looming over the earth pony with the fingers of his power fist opening and closing menacingly. The mare stared back up, her brow creased in concern.

“My Lord, are you okay? You seem really upset,” Jewel Bracer said, “do you want to talk about it?”

“I… that… what?” the hulking armored warrior stumbled over his words uncertainly.

“I used to be a clinical therapist before I became a space pirate,” she replied, “my schedule’s looking fairly clear for the rest of the day since we have to wait for the security sweep. Would you like to get together and chat? I think you’d feel a lot better afterward.”

“I can vouch for her!” shouted Claret Heartthrob while she tenderly withdrew a stub slug from a man’s shoulder. “I see her all the time!”

“Drinking heavily while complaining about your love life isn’t really what I’d consider therapy, but whatever helps I guess,” Jewel Bracer chuckled. “What do you say, my Lord?”

The Iron Warrior stared down at the earth pony, and then looked over to the menials. Most of them were quivering in terror and trying to avoid eye contact. Delgan had likewise found something interesting to stare at near the back of the hangar, his expression perfectly neutral.

“I… have to oversee the initial sweep,” the unit champion said, his voice softer. He straightened so that his posture was less openly menacing.

“That’s fine, Lord. I have to help get these poor workers screened for Genestealer corruption, so I’ll still be here for a while,” Jewel Bracer said with a warm smile. “Just come get me if you want a friendly ear, okay?”

The Chaos Space Marine mumbled something vaguely affirmative as he walked off, and then swiftly started shouting and pointing to cargo containers. The menials stared in stupefied awe. Delgan released a deep sigh.

“You ridiculous mares are going to give me an ulcer, you know that?” he said gruffly, narrowing his eyes at the earth pony.

“Awwww! You DO care about us, don’t you, Lord Trademaster?” Wind Chime giggled into her hooves while hovering over the merchant.

“Don’t test how much,” Delgan retorted, “now enough dallying; I want these people lined up for screening immediately! You’ve probably spared their lives, so I expect that debt to be repaid with productive hours the minute this hold is deemed secure!”

“Yes, Trademaster!” chirped Jewel Bracer.

“Is there any chance the cookies are still on offer?” Wind Chime asked.

“We may yet have alien infiltrators waiting to tear us apart at the first opportunity, and you’re worried about COOKIES?” Delgan said, his mustache shifting in a distinctly disapproving manner.

“Whoa, hey, what’s this about cookies?” Claret Heartthrob asked, tapping the back of Delgan’s leg with a hoof. “I saved like three guys, can I get cookies for that? What if I stitch up your back too? I want in.”

Delgan held his disappointed stare for about ten seconds before he sighed again and started taking off his coat. “All right, fine. I suppose it wouldn’t do to meet the bakers while I’m bleeding all over the deck, would it?”

“YAAAAY!!”

Author's Note

Another chapter completed! Gotta be honest I spent way less time than I thought on the Equinoughts and way more on the ship describing an utterly one-sided battle and then I realized that I'd hit almost 20k words. Dem pants robbers is sneaky like that.
Random pic of Doctor Claret Heartthrob for no reason

Underhive

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 9
Underhive

Ulaisse capital moon
Underhive complex sigma
Exact geo-coordinates unknown

A long train of warriors moved through the dark, cramped confines of the tunnel, walking in near silence.

A single soldier led the way, a stub pistol gripped in one hand and a jagged-edged machete in the other. A third hand carried a lumen rod up above his head, providing the only bare trickle of light in the area.

The space was barely six feet high and half as wide at its most passable points. Alien arthropods teemed over the floor, and the occasional drip-feed from old water lines and natural seepage created pools of filthy water here and there along the path. Metal paneling ahead on the right side marked the tunnel’s exit point into the main passage, and dim light seeped through a trio of vent slits near the top.

The Genestealer cultist at the front slowed, and he cast a glance behind him. More hybrid cultists waited in the darkness, their weapons held tight and their eyes gleaming in the shadows. Further back, Purestrain Genestealers hunkered down in the path, bracing their four arms against the walls and following in a crouch.

With the entire group still, it was easy to hear the sounds coming from the adjacent tunnel. Heavy boots scuffed the debris-ridden ground, followed by the rhythmic clanking of shifting armor plates. Further away from the wall, but clearly audible, the much heavier footfalls of a mechanical walker ground rocks to dust while gears spun and pistons churned.

The lead cultist handed his light source to the man behind him and then stepped in front of the metal panel. His free hand went to the small, lonely thumbscrew holding the panel in place, while at the same time he peered through the vent slit to check on their prey.

A large, curved spike promptly punched through the panel and impaled the hybrid through the chest. The cultist barely had time to snarl in pain before he was yanked out through the access panel, his blood washing over the ground and walls.

His compatriots readied their weapons and surged forward. There was no place to retreat to, and the enemy had detected them. An impulse deep in their mind, tethering their thoughts to the will of a distant master, flooded their bodies with adrenaline and drove them to berserk rage.

Advance. Attack. KILL. Nothing else matters.

Then an Iron Warrior with one arm wreathed in green flame leaned through the opening. The soldier was clearly too big to enter the passageway; putting aside the enhanced stature of an Astartes, this one’s power armor was riddled with metal horns and spiked ridges that made him even larger. It also gave him a uniquely terrifying visage, even before one accounted for the building flames.

The frontmost cultist stumbled, feeling new, long-buried impulses suddenly emerge to drown out the singular imperative driving him forward. His companions shoved him from the back and one even stuck his pistol over his shoulder to fire off a few shots, but the man in front understood immediately that there would be no assault.

They had failed. And now they would die.

“Iron within,” Dest said solemnly after the pistol slug bounced off his vambrace, “iron without.”

He hurled the fireball into the soldiers.

“And that’s another interception team down,” Twilight said while howls of pain and anger flooded into the tunnel. “That’s the third group we’ve encountered trying to ambush us. They really want to stop us, or at least slow us down, but we haven’t encountered any more blockades or checkpoints.”

“They dare not challenge us openly while we possess heavy support and they do not. Yet desperation may force the issue,” Serith said conversationally, walking behind the alicorn. “Genestealer cults are not necessarily powerful or well-armed. Their strength lay in treachery and patience. But we are an unexpected factor, and this hive is already suffering from having its agents unveiled. It is making mistakes…”

“Up ahead! Contact!” Erin Whyd lifted her shotgun as another metal panel on the wall rattled. This one was far ahead of the group, and the floodlights from Pinkie’s Dreadnought shell slashed across the ground to illuminate it.

The light barely caught sight of a Purestrain Genestealer before it dashed off into cover, and another alien that was emerging from the access panel flinched back from the blinding light. Erin fired her shotgun and it flinched again, but a moment later it scrambled out into the main cavern anyway.

A burst from Pinkie’s butcher cannon blasted the Genestealer in half. The Contemptor twitched its aim over to the open panel itself and kept shooting, cracking apart the surrounding tunnel masonry and filling the opening with explosions of shrapnel.

“Applejack, flame that opening ahead! Dest, keep at it! Torch them from both sides!” Twilight commanded, racing to intercept the Genestealer that had already escaped the access hatch.

The force harmonizer floating over her head released a purple ray of destruction, slashing across the ground and striking the alien across the legs. The Genestealer stumbled, and then fell over after Erin shot it in the back.

“An’ STAY DOWN!” Applejack shouted, sprinting past the others. She leapt into the air over the wounded Genestealer and then activated her gravity plating.

The farmer hit the ground with an impact like a cannon shell, and the eroded flooring exploded around her. The Genestealer was utterly pulverized underfoot, and a shock wave of dust billowed out in all directions while the rockcrete cracked apart.

Applejack galloped away from the fresh crater, and Pinkie Pie let her cannon rest as the other earth pony reached the access panel. Applejack turned on her heavy flamer, and light filled the halls as the gap in the wall was drowned in fire.

The furious howls of dying Genestealers and cultists echoed down the halls, and writhing shadows flickered across the tunnel. Serith stood behind Pinkie Pie, watching the combat in satisfied silence. Chrysalis stood by his side, her eyes frequently twitching back and forth to search the shadows. The rest of the party was grouped behind them, with Rarity and Trixie covering Suuna and Byron Hess. Suuna still clutched the mysterious artifact against her chest, while Byron was holding an autopistol in a two-handed grip and trying not to look quite as terrified as he felt. The only two members of the group missing were Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy.

“Above,” Serith said suddenly, startling the others. “It seems some of them found an alternate route.”

Rarity and Trixie immediately started powering up their horns, and Byron peered up into the gloom to try to identify the exit point. An air vent crusted over with mold and other filth was suddenly torn off its frame and plummeted to the ground.

A Purestrain Genestealer landed in a crouch atop the fallen grate, only to be immediately cut down by a swing of Serith’s force halberd. Shadowy lightning crackled across the weapon’s head as it hewed through chitin and flesh, blasting the life force from the alien before it could perish of its mundane wounds. Its death shriek caused the humans nearby to flinch back, and as a result they missed when a second Genestealer dropped to the floor.

The Purestrain found itself glaring into the wide eyes of Suuna, who was holding up the strange artifact like a clumsy shield. The Genestealer moved to seize her arm with one hand, while another stabbed its deadly talons straight for her throat.

The alien’s claws passed through the hololith uselessly, groping for a victim that wasn’t there. The illusion flickered, but before it could fully grasp that it had been tricked a plasma gun shot off one of its legs.

The Genestealer fell onto its hands and clambered away, showing shocking agility for a creature that had just had a major limb vaporized. Byron fired his pistol but the shots went wide, and it launched itself away just ahead of Trixie’s fireball launcher.

“Hey! It’s getting away!” the magician shouted angrily, magic swirling around her horn.

“Do we… Do we actually need to make sure we get it? What happens if it escapes?” Rarity asked, keeping watch on the ventilation shaft above. “This place is already infested with these aliens, right?”

Trixie grimaced. “Okay, you have a point, but on the other hoof KILL IT PINK ROBOT KILL IT NOW!!”

Pinkie Pie swiveled about, and a clunking noise came from her ammunition hoppers. The butcher cannon opened up, and once again shadows flashed across the walls while pieces of the main hallway exploded.

The wounded Genestealer scrambled wildly on its five remaining limbs, bolting from column to trash pile among the barrage. A heavy shell drilled into the wall above it, and then it bounced off the ground like a grasshopper just before another pair of shots crossed over it. The alien grabbed onto the end of a large pipe that was jutting out from a corner, and then clawed its way inside and out of sight.

“GAH!” Trixie shot her fireburst launcher after the last alien vanished into the darkness, but the fireball landed well short of the pipe and merely set a fire on the ground. “Ponyfeathers! We HAD that thing!” she complained, stamping a boot on the ground angrily.

“Trixie, relax. It’s not like the enemy doesn’t already know where we are,” Twilight chided. “We’re more likely to walk into a trap chasing after them than if we let them fall back.” She twisted her head around. “Lord Dest, Lord Serith, are we clear?”

“The enemies in the side passage have been extinguished,” Dest said, the spikes and blades slowly receding into his armor as he approached.

“I sense no further targets, save for the wretch that just fled,” Serith agreed. “The cultist scum… hm?”

“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked quickly, alarmed.

A screech came from the tunnel where the last Genestealer had escaped, and then the five-limbed alien came careening back out toward the space pirates. It hit the ground right in front of the fire left by Trixie’s weapon, and subsequently rolled through the flames before sliding to a stop.

Erin took the shot the moment it was still, and a spasm ran through Genestealer before it curled up on the floor, flames still clinging to its body.

“… There. The area is secure.” Serith flung his force halberd to the side to shake the blood off of it, and then rested the polearm over his shoulder pad. “It seems our scouts have returned.”

The sounds of rapid hoofsteps came from the pipe, and the pirates spotted a pair of crimson lights sailing through the darkness.

“Hey guys!” Rainbow Dash announced, leaping out of the pipe and shifting into a hover. “Sorry about blasting the monster toward you. It startled me.”

“We’re fine, Dash. What do you have for us? Were you and Fluttershy able to reach the camp Erin told us about?” Twilight asked.

Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Well, uh, I guess I have good news and bad news. The good news is that there are no traps, ambushes, or armies waiting for us on the path to Ein’s Well. Or in Ein’s Well.”

“That’s very good news,” Erin admitted. “Ein isn’t the worst bandit in these ruins, but I had to imagine he’d have some of his people infected by these aliens. And they’re willing to let us through?”

“I doubt the headstrong flying equine met with the underhive gangers to negotiate passage,” Dest scoffed, “so that makes me wonder how you could know there are no ambushes waiting there.”

“Well that has a lot to do with the bad news,” Rainbow said, trying to force out a chuckle and failing. Fluttershy decloaked while she was standing at the mouth of the pipe, hanging her head and looking away. “The bad news is that everybody’s dead.”

Erin winced and rubbed her temples. Byron blinked in shock.

“What? Everybody? Are you sure? His gang had almost two hundred people!” the explosives expert said.

“Okay, so, it’s not like I could question them or knew who Ein is exactly, so I guess it’s possible not EVERYONE is dead…” Rainbow took a deep breath, forcing out the next part of her report, “but there were a lot more than two hundred bodies there, so if they’re not dead it looks like they barely escaped.”

“Unbelievable. A massacre, this deep in the ruins?” Byron mumbled. “How did we not hear about it? We should have gotten word and probably several refugees.”

“The bodies were…” Fluttershy started speaking, and the others could hear the cringing in her tone. “… Fresh, kind of. They died less than a day ago. Possibly after we arrived on-world.”

“That whole area is a wasted battlefield,” Dash said. “But we didn’t find any signs of life, so I guess it’s safe for now.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Serith said, his visor lights pulsing in the darkness. “Show us.”

The pirates were soon on their way again, led by the massive pink Dreadnought and its floodlights. The tunnel was poorly maintained and frequently damaged, but it was also large and straight to allow for vehicle traffic. Barely one out of every ten lumens were even still in their sockets, much less providing illumination. Water occasionally dripped down from breaches in the ceiling, forming small puddles on the rockcrete ground. The creatures that gathered in and around the water tended to scatter and squirm when bright light passed over them, and each time a disgusted groan came from Rarity’s helmet.

“The pipe goes straight there but the hall has a bit of a detour,” Rainbow Dash explained, pointing a boot toward a distant pile of rubble. “I figured this was a pretty good point for a trap, but we didn’t see anything when we passed by the first time.”

“The Genestealer cult has launched several attacks on us, but they have been slipshod,” Dest rumbled as his blazing eyes searched the darkness. “Normally the cults are able to deploy hundreds of troops when necessary or lay devastating traps for their victims. Their best effort so far was when we escaped the sanctuary. It’s strange.”

“Maybe they’re stretched too thin to properly react to us. We’re not really a high priority,” Twilight reasoned. “Rainbow, you said Ein’s Well had become a battlefield? Who were they fighting?”

“Imperium,” Rainbow answered, “… probably.”

“There were a… LOT of dead,” Fluttershy whimpered. “We didn’t study it for very long.”

“Ein was surprisingly good at keeping his crew out of Imperial crosshairs,” Erin noted, “but I guess his luck had to run out eventually. The Imperium has been tightening the noose and his gang is probably the largest force here. Certainly the best-armed.”

“The largest and best armed force you are aware of,” Serith corrected. “Although if these bandits were strong and numerous they were surely infiltrated by the cult to some degree.”

“What… What do these cults do, after they take over?” Byron asked anxiously. “They have all these people under their control, right? So they lead an uprising and overthrow the governor? Then what? What are they after?”

“They want… you,” Serith said with a grim chuckle. Seeing the man’s confusion, the Sorcerer elaborated. “Don’t be fooled by their byzantine plans, sophisticated treachery, or arcane methods. The Tyranids’ motivation is almost insultingly simple: they want food.”

“Food?” Erin asked, frowning under her mask. “That’s all?”

“That’s all,” Dest grunted, “but they want ALL of it, is the problem. Much of that food is ours. And some of it is us.”

“Tyranids don’t think of planets as biospheres in which to settle and live,” Twilight continued. “They don’t even consider them places to hunt prey, even. They think of planets more like… like we think of a ration tin. Crack it open, slurp up the contents, and then throw away the husk.”

“So all of this subterfuge, this corruption, all this SUFFERING you have borne witness to, both at the hands of the cultists and the Imperium that hunts them… is all merely to weaken the defenses for when the hive fleets darken your orbit.” Serith chuckled again, this time with more genuine humor. “Their numbers limitless, their potential endless, and their consciousness ascendant, yet still the Tyranid invaders sometimes falter when the heirs of this galaxy strike back. So they have come to use the cults to beat their path.”

The Sorcerer tapped his helmet with an armored finger. “The cult not only sabotages the world’s defenses, but the master acts as a psychic beacon, reaching across the stars to guide its brethren. How long has this one festered, I wonder? How many tendrils are reaching for your hapless system by now?”

The pirates trudged through the dripping caverns in silence for a few long seconds, and then Erin spoke up again. “Do you… Do you think the Imperium will be able to stop them?”

“The Imperium wasn’t even able to stop us,” Serith scoffed.

“Can we talk about something else?” Trixie asked with an annoyed grunt. “Like the artifact! Serith, what do you make of the artifact?”

Serith turned his helmet toward Suuna, who immediately stood up straighter and held up the octahedron she was carrying.

“Ah guess it’s been guidin’ us through Twilight before now, but it’s been mighty quiet ever since we found it,” Applejack said. “Be real nice if it could show us a shortcut outta here.”

“I don’t think the artifact knows the way out of here,” Twilight retorted. “Presuming, for now, that the artifact’s knowledge base is of a limited scope like any other being’s, it would have no context for how planetary extraction would occur or how to assist it.”

“What does any of THAT mean?” Chrysalis growled.

“It means that the artifact doesn’t know the way off the planet because how could it? How would a carved hunk of rock hidden underground know about the fleet or the defenses arranged to stop it from picking us up?” Rarity answered. “Even if it was secretly rooting around in our heads for clues, we barely know what to expect either.”

“I have completed a rudimentary scan of the object,” Serith interjected, causing the others to fall silent. “Unsurprisingly, almost all of the material analysis was returned as inconclusive. However, I am certain some portion of this artifact is composed of blackstone.”

“Blackstone? You mean like shale or something?” Pinkie asked, her voice booming from the Dreadnought’s helmet.

“No. Blackstone is no mundane material. It is a strange, rare substance that reacts unusually to the Warp,” Serith explained. “I know little about it; in all my centuries I have never had the opportunity to experiment with the substance or come across any notable research about it. However, in some constructs it is used as a bulwark against the power of the psyker. I can sense its presence.”

“That stone isn’t black, though,” Rainbow Dash pointed out. “It’s white.”

“Off-white,” Rarity corrected. “Pearl, I’d say. It would be a nice color with a little polish.”

“Presumably the blackstone is underneath various other inexplicable materials,” Serith drawled. “With extensive study I could tell you more, but this is hardly the time or place. For now it is enough that the object does not seem harmful.”

“Hey! There it is! Up there!” Rainbow Dash suddenly boosted forward toward an intersection, and then swung to the left and pointed a boot toward a long ramp. “That’s the way to the battlefield. It gets WAY uglier in the cavern.”

“I see we have some casualties already,” Dest grunted, speeding up ahead of the others.

Several bodies were laying on the ground, still clutching their weapons. They were obviously underhive scavengers or raiders, judging by their clothes and general physique, but as Dest approached he couldn’t find any obvious wounds. All of them were stretched out on the ground, aligned more or less in the same direction. They had been retreating. They didn’t make it.

“The battle must have been quite recent indeed if nobody has taken their equipment yet,” Dest remarked, leaning down to roll over a corpse. “Fluttershy, determine what killed this man. I see no wounds on him.”

Fluttershy’s helmet visor pulsed, and reams of data-screed filled her heads-up-display. She filtered away most of the redundant or unnecessary information, squinting at the data tags attached to the corpse.

“The cause of death was… paralysis, I think,” Fluttershy said, her voice trembling only a little. “There’s no wound, but there’s a lot more damage to the nervous system and brain matter than the rest of the body.”

“Nerve-shredder gas,” Byron said grimly.

“What? Gas?! Is it still here?! Trixie’s helmet is broken!” Trixie yelped, recoiling.

“Hmmm… Aerosol filtering doesn’t detect anything like that,” Twilight pointed out, bringing up an analysis window on her visor screen. “Plenty of other minor contaminants, but not a poison gas.”

“Nerve-shredder gas is mostly used to clear entrenched targets in preparation for combat assaults, so it spreads fast and turns inert quickly,” Byron explained. “Five minutes after release it’s considered non-lethal in potency, and after twenty the gas is effectively harmless to mammals. Still… there could be pockets of it concentrated in crevices or small canisters remaining that weren’t properly deployed, so be careful!”

“I have to say, despite our harrowing landing on this world it will be almost refreshing to deal with the simple threats of the Imperial war machine again,” Rarity admitted. “These cultists aliens are simply TERRIBLE. Converting helpless refugees into gene-slaves and compelling them to breed soldiers for their insurrection! The thought makes my fur bristle!”

“It makes me sick,” Twilight agreed, her voice carrying a surprising amount of venom. Some of the other mares paused to look at her, but the young Princess advanced up the ramp toward Ein’s Well without looking back. “Everyone with a helmet, make sure your void seals are locked and your air supply is flowing. Everyone without a helmet should stay well behind the rest of us.”

“I have a respirator. How well will that do?” Erin asked, fitting her breathing mask over her face.

“Against a fresh dose it would probably save you, depending on the exact circumstances and whether you could escape a saturated zone. But without the visor part of the gas mask you’d suffer excruciating pain and permanent blindness,” Byron explained. “Definitely better than nothing!”

“’Better than nothing’ is standard issue in the underhives,” Erin said wryly, hefting her shotgun. “Let’s see what we’re working with here.”

The ramp opened up into another series of larger caverns. Like in the sanctuary, these areas had been excavated and fashioned into living space for the underhive residents with tents, defensive barricades, and alcoves where people could set up something resembling a home and rest in partial privacy. Unlike the sanctuary, this living space had been subjected to an assault before they had gotten there.

Bodies were everywhere, scattered around the cavern more or less as one would expect after a desperate battle. Most of them bore conventional deadly wounds and had fallen from lasgun fire or being cut down by chainswords. Others had clearly been in the process of fleeing and didn’t have any external injuries.

Not all of the bodies were human, and Twilight immediately fixed a scowl on a Purestrain Genestealer that had perished with its claws buried in a heavily tattooed raider. Its back carapace was covered in lasburns and cracks from autogun fire. There were a few more of the Tyranids among the dead, and each one looked like it had been attacked from both sides of the combat.

Dest joined the young Princess at the top of the ramp and slowly looked over the combat. “… This was not a battle between two united forces. The underhive wretches also fought the xenos.”

“By the Emperor…” Erin mumbled as she stepped up behind Twilight. Dest turned his head toward her, and she winced. “I… I mean… s-sorry, my Lord.”

“I take no offense at your plea,” the Iron Warrior assured her before he moved forward again, “but it is a futile one. The people fleeing your cities will find no refuge with the Imperium’s faithful. The Emperor will not hear your cries for aid or mercy.”

“I suppose our real savior would be Miss Twilight Sparkle, then” the guard admitted. “Do you think ’by the purple pirate pony’ could catch on?”

Dest laughed. It was a full-throated, honest guffaw that roared within his throat, and the sound startled Erin briefly. “You have a cold wit about you, Whyd! I’m glad I didn’t execute you and the specialist as a precaution.”

“Not quite as glad as I am, Lord,” Erin replied. She climbed up onto a bit of burnt scaffolding to get a better view, and then everyone nearby heard her hiss an unfamiliar curse.

“Miss Erin? What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, turning away from a wide blood slick full of entangled corpses and broken weapons.

“The tunnel! I think they collapsed the exit!” Erin suddenly took off, rushing through the battlefield at a sprint.

Dest bolted forward to follow her at the same speed, his armor creating a mighty din as the greaves pounded against the rockcrete flooring. They crossed most of the ravaged battlefield quickly, with Erin leaping or curving around barricades and bodies while Dest simply plowed through them.

Soon enough, they reached the far wall of the cavern and Erin slowed to a stop. An enormous pile of blasted stone lay ahead. Dest guessed it was the exit tunnel completely buried by mining charges judging by what Erin had said, as well as the crumpled chassis of a Hellhound flame tank partially sticking out of the cave-in. It was otherwise difficult to tell that there was any kind of passage behind the debris here; it could have been a bunch of rock piled up on one side of the cavern as part of an excavation, or the result of some other, less deliberate collapse.

“Damn it all,” Erin hissed, walking up to the Hellhound and giving it a pointless kick. “This path branched out to another whole section of the underhive. Nearly half of our potential exit paths rely on this route being open.” She turned around and glared at the veritable ocean of dead bodies.

Dest reached down and hauled one of the dead men up by the arm. He wore a bloodied uniform marking him a member of the Planetary Defense Force, and had a heavy gas mask on that completely obscured his features behind a plasteel shell with a blue vision slit.. “Nearly all the corpses on this end of the battlefield are Imperial. The Imperium forces advanced through this tunnel and the denizens collapsed it on top of them. I’d expect the gas was deployed more or less at the same time.”

“Not before the battle was raging at full tilt, evidently,” Erin grumbled. “I can’t really claim the circumstances weren’t desperate enough. We also brought down a tunnel on our way here. Guess I can’t blame them.”

Rainbow Dash and Twilight swooped in overhead, hovering high above the carnage that surrounded their friends on the ground.

“We’ll figure out another way. For now…” Twilight cleared her throat and then shouted through her vox amplifier. “Erin! Byron! Suuna! Find some body armor and masks in decent condition and put them on! Take anything else you need too; there are plenty of weapons and munitions scattered about.”

“Ugh. Corpse scavenging duty, is it?” Byron sighed from where the others were picking their way through the battlefield. “All right, let me just find some unlucky thug in my size.”

Twilight switched her vox off and then swung around to face Dest. “Check my thinking: If the Imperial assault force gassed this place and their troops were outfitted to handle that, then they’re the only ones that could have walked away from this battle, right? The combat would have ended as soon as it was deployed.”

“It is the most likely result, yes,” Dest agreed. “It is distantly possible some other combatants had sufficiently well-sealed respirator gear and managed to kill the remaining Imperial troops not crushed by the tunnel collapse, but I would not seriously consider it.”

Twilight turned back around, scanning the area with her visor some more. “There! That must be the canister!” She pointed a hoof toward a large metal vessel standing next to the cavern wall some ways off from the collapsed tunnel. Her flight pack tilted forward, and she accelerated through the air.

“Don’t touch it!” Byron Hess shouted while strapping on a combat vest. “Usually the chem seeder just equalizes its pressure when it’s deployed rather than emptying the interior or freely mixing it with the local atmosphere! It very likely still contains active nerve agents!”

“Got it! Thank you!” Twilight shouted back as she slowed to a hover.

The canister was four feet in diameter and twice that in height, and shaped like a barrel. Piping ran all over the rounded surface, while at the flat top end a protrusion shaped somewhat like a flower was extended. The entire vessel was secured to a low-lying platform with a set of small caterpillar treads and a micro-engine. Twilight recognized it as a personal cargo carrier, a smaller version of the hauler platforms that were common around Ferrous Dominus.

Dest followed at a more cautious pace, this time carefully choosing his path to avoid disturbing the many bodies littering the cavern floor. “Are we simply wasting time until the civilians are finished scavenging wargear, or did you have a specific reason for investigating this site further?” the driver asked. “We should make for the next escape route quickly. Either the Imperium or the Genestealers will return to this place eventually. Probably both.”

Twilight nodded absently as she stared at the canister, and then started walking a circuit around the vessel. “I’m looking for any sign of survivors.”

“… As you said before, the survivors would likely be Imperial soldiers,” Dest pointed out.

“I know. I’d like to find them before the cultists do anyway,” the alicorn admitted.

She spotted a pair of bodies in a heap on the other side of the vessel and stepped closer. One of them had clear rank markings that her visor quickly tagged as those of a Brigade Captain. She didn’t have any serious wounds, but it was easy to see how she had died: the hose leading from her gas mask to her air canisters had been sliced clean through. The other body had three arms, immediately marking it as a member of the alien cult. It had been impaled by a power sword, but it’s talon-tipped hands were wrapped around a trio of scrap-made knives tightly enough that their grip had endured long after the cultist had expired.

Twilight sat down heavily, staring at the bodies. Her visor started a deeper scan, picking out obscure details and tagging them for analysis, but the data screed quickly blurred into incoherence. Her heartbeat started to thump in her ears. A spark of… something… lit in her belly, chasing away the sorrow and disgust at witnessing the remnants of such carnage.

The underhive denizens were going to retreat, leaving the passage clear. The Imperium was going to feed the gas deeper, once it had located the Genestealer’s nest. The cult launched an attack on both forces to escalate the battle. The Imperium used the gas and the residents collapsed the tunnel. All of the cultists died too, of course.

Twilight glanced to the side, but she saw nothing. The voice was on the edge of her consciousness, barely audible to her, yet the words registered clearly in her thoughts.

The cult master is pleased. It does not care that its soldiers perished. More humans died, and the passage collapse has extended its lifetime. That is all it wants. More death. More time. More despair.

Twilight stepped over to the dead cultist and pushed him over with her boot, turning him onto his back. The hybrid’s face was pale, and frozen into an expression of anguished fury. An amulet rattled about its neck. A brass wyrm, curled into a circle.

The cult cannot prevail. It will perish here. It hopes only to last long enough that the hive fleets find their way…

Twilight levitated the amulet, giving it a sharp tug to snap the thin chain that kept it looped around the hybrid’s neck. It floated before her visor, glimmering in the dim light cast by the ceiling lumens and Twilight’s own magic aura.

Despicable monsters…
Treacherous slavers…
Worse than even the Orks…
They should all be-

“Hey! Hey you guys! Check this out!” Rainbow Dash shouted, suddenly alerting the others scattered about the cavern. She was floating near the wall and had a boot pointed toward the ground. “I found tracks!”

“Tracks? This’s a battlefield, there’re tracks everywhere,” Applejack shouted back, trotting across the carnage with Rarity right behind her.

“Okay, sure, but these are probably easier to follow than all those!” the speedster retorted. “Come look!”

Twilight took a moment to slip the amulet into her gorget, and then reset her helmet seals. Then she jumped into the air again, speeding over to Rainbow Dash.

“… These tracks are from another cargo carrier,” Twilight said, studying the indentations in the ground. “Wait, this carrier moved after the battle! Look!” Twilight flew further along the path, gesturing to the ground. “The rest of the area is covered by debris from the cave-in and combat, but these tracks are moving over or through all that! It must have left after the battle was over!”

“Uh… yeah! Yes. I knew that,” Rainbow said. “So we should probably head another way.”

“No. We’re following them,” Twilight said firmly. “Rainbow, you’re with me. Applejack, Rarity, Lord Dest: follow us. Everyone else is to stay here while Erin finishes suiting up and figures out the next-best route! Stay close to Pinkie Pie!”

Rainbow gave a slightly confused cheer and blasted off in the direction the tracks led. Twilight followed, boosting her speed as best she could to keep up with the pegasus. The tracks kept close to the cavern wall, but then turned sharply into another tunnel. This one was much smaller than the path they had entered from, and totally unlit. Rainbow slowed only slightly to check Twilight’s position, and then zipped into the tunnel while doing a barrel roll.

Twilight followed her, making sure to switch her visor mode to see in the dark. The tracks were more difficult to spot here without all the detritus of the battlefield shifted aside, but she could still make out the ridges scraped into the dirt that had layered over the rockcrete over the past few decades.

Her vox link turned active. Dest.

“Would you care to explain why we’re wasting time seeking Imperial troopers? If we were merely searching the battlefield that would be one thing, but this is a serious diversion.”

“They might need help,” Twilight said simply.

“… And that is our concern, why?”

“None of this is our concern. But this is a rescue mission, and we have a common enemy now. They’re being hunted, and I want to save them,” the young Princess said.

“What if we’re the ones they need saving from?” the Astartes asked.

“Oh. Uh… okay, yes, I can see how that might come about. But I-“ she was cut off by the sound of gunfire echoing through the tunnel.

“Twi, let’s hit it!” Rainbow shouted, doubling her speed.

Twilight increased her own speed as well, although her flight pack was already straining near its limit. “Rainbow, don’t leave me behind again! Remember what happened last time?”

“No, why? What happened last time?” Rainbow asked right before a shotgun blast struck her wing.

Sparks flashed off her armor plating as it was scored by the shot, and Rainbow did a roll to evade the incoming salvo. Autogun slugs pelted the wall in a wide, desperate spread, and the pegasus flew as close to the wall as possible until she passed by her assailants.

Dash hit her impulse blasters, jolted to a stop, and then spun around in the air to get a look at what had shot her. Another chemical canister sat in the middle of the tunnel, surrounded by a half-dozen soldiers, half of which were swiftly moving to attack her. There were other details of interest, not least which faction these soldiers belonged to, but in the heat of the moment and the darkness of the tunnel Rainbow Dash didn’t study the scene any longer.

“NINJA STARS TO THE FACE!” the speedy mare shouted, firing a burst from her shuriken catapult and then jolting backward through the air.

One of the troops fell immediately, but the others pressed on, their autoguns splashing light through the tunnel with every shot. Dash twisted in the air, trying to throw off their aim, but aerial evasion was almost impossible in the narrow space. Autogun slugs cracked against her wing, shoulder, and flank, and impact warnings started to flash on her visor while she came around for another pass.

On the other side of the enemy, Twilight had just arrived on the scene, her horn blazing violet and her vox set to amplify.

“SURRENDER AT ONCE! WE ARE NOT ALLIES OF THE CULT! WE WISH TO-“

A fusillade of gunshots met her demand, smacking against the barrier Twilight had prepared. The shield pulsed with magical energy, lighting up the cavern much better than the gunshots did, and the alicorn pony got a much better look at their enemies. Dirty robes, crude wrappings, and scavenged gear immediately picked these men out as Genestealer cultists. They all had scarves or crude respirators over their mouths, but none had complex gas protection gear of the sort one would need while handling powerful poisons.

Something else caught Twilight’s attention, though: there were bodies on the floor, wearing heavier armor. And next to the chem canister was a larger body on the ground that looked like it was stooped over on top of something else…

Twilight’s eyes went wide, and she felt a tide of nausea well up in her stomach. A Genestealer was pinning down a man, its tongue – or some other lengthy organ extending from within its jaws – writhing down his throat. Twilight stared at the sight in horror, illuminated as it was by the continuing impacts of bullets against her magic barrier. Then her disgust was replaced with anger, and her force harmonizer detached from her back.

“Hi guys I’m back!” Rainbow spat another wave of shuriken into the cultists while rocketing back where she came from, and then slammed greaves-first into one of them. The man was knocked clean off his feet by the impact, and Rainbow jumped away from the body before it hit the ground, finishing the maneuver with another barrel roll.

As Rainbow zipped by, Twilight’s armor and weapon were consumed by a violet aura, her body illuminating the tunnel well enough that the hybrid soldiers flinched back from the light.

“No surrender, then,” the armored alicorn said, her voice booming with power.

Bright purple lightning blasted from her horn, the inlaid circuits blazing white. The magic arced from one cultist to another, running through the entire unit in an eye blink. The soldiers fell to the ground, convulsing badly while ribbons of searing magic crawling over them, and the stench of scorched flesh quickly filled the tunnel.

Only the Purestrain Genestealer remained, having been too far away from its allies to be affected by the spell. It withdrew its ovipositor from the man underneath it, and then stood upright.

The force harmonizer reached it before it could do much more than that, and a crackling blade of psychic energy carved into the alien’s back. The Genestealer shrieked and leapt away, leaking dark ichor across the ground behind it.

“You’re not getting away!” Rainbow Dash shouted, rocketing around the opposite side of the gas canister to intercept it. She fired a spread of shuriken, but the Genestealer jumped with uncanny speed, landing on the wall of the tunnel and then kicking off for further acceleration.

The alien passed closely enough to the pegasus to lash out with a claw, and Rainbow spun in the air to evade. Her reflexes proved barely adequate, and the Genestealer’s claws sliced a deep cut across the chest and gorget of her armor without piercing all the way through to the flesh below.

Rainbow Dash kicked out with one boot toward her assailant, activating her impulse blaster at the same time. What would have been a rough tap instead sent both combatants flying away from each other, and the Genestealer was hurled into the tunnel wall.

Twilight’s harmonizer flew after the alien, swinging in a wide arc. The blade sliced through stone, carapace, and flesh with equal ease, carving a trench through the wall and the Genestealer both. It released a feeble squeal, and then its upper torso toppled while its lower torso slid to the floor.

“I’m not reading any more targets,” Twilight said, turning toward the quivering soldier on the ground. “We can-“

A cultist next to the gas canister suddenly reached up, grabbing onto the piping on the outside of the container. He started to lift his shotgun, but then Rainbow Dash struck him in the side of the head, knocking him back to the ground. His body spasmed, and then he went still once more.

“Not on my watch, chump!” Rainbow huffed. “I think he was going for the valve! What did he think he’s going to accomplish?”

“I don’t know, but good work stopping him,” Twilight said, slowly approaching the Imperial soldier. Her horn lit up softly as her harmonizer returned to her back, and she illuminated the Genestealers’ most recent victim.

The man was a pale, with the veins around his neck and head bulging, as if they were ready to pop. His eyes were wide open, staring at the armored equine in mute horror, but his gaze was responsive. The man was conscious and at least partially lucid. He was also clutching at his throat, and emitting a constant string of mournful choking noises.

“Please calm down. We’re not here to harm you,” the Princess said to the man. She wished she could take her helmet off for this conversation, but there was simply no way she could justify that with enemy soldiers around and a vat of poison gas right next to her. “Were you infected? I saw the Genestealer doing… uh… something…”

The soldier closed his eyes, and slowly managed to choke out intelligible words. “My Lord… Emperor…” he paused to cough, his breath heaving. “Grant me… your final… mercy…”

His trembling hand reached toward the bodies nearby, clumsily groping about for one of their dropped weapons. Twilight winced and quietly levitated a fallen stub pistol well out of his reach.

“Listen, if you were just infected, maybe we can halt the process! Or maybe it wasn’t complete! Don’t give up! We brought help!” Twilight said, hoping she sounded more optimistic than she felt.

“Emperor… deliver… us from… evil,” the soldier hissed, his eyes still squeezed shut. The veins around his neck and face continued pulsing even faster, like his heart was about to burst.

Twilight activated her vox to the squad channel. “We ran into some cultists and a Genestealer. Area is secure, but we have a survivor here. Fluttershy, I need you here right away!”

“Twi? Are you… Are you sure she can…?” Rainbow fidgeted uncomfortably while she stared at the Imperial soldier.

“I don’t know. None of us know. But we have to try something!” Twilight protested.

“From the… the… predations… of the… alien,” the soldier gurgled, “my Emperor… deliver us…”

Twilight heard the sound of power-armored footsteps and turned around. Dest was approaching with Applejack and Rarity flanking him, his visor lenses gleaming brightly in the darkness of the tunnel. Applejack’s armor had a high-beam lumen set in the cowl, and it illuminated the chemical vessel and the unfortunate victims laid all around it.

Dest raised his boltgun, searching the tunnel for movement. “You said there was a Genestealer. Is that man infected?”

“Yes! Do you know of any sort of treatment we can try? I think we may have interrupted the process!” Twilight asked.

The boltgun dropped its aim and fired once. The feverish mumbling of the soldier ceased.

“The corruption has been dealt with,” the Rhino driver said, his voice grim, “I presume this vessel contains more nerve-shredder gas? What are we to do with it?”

Twilight slumped onto her rear, her armor joints rattling. “That… He… He was-“

“He was an enemy, taken as a thrall to another enemy,” Dest said. “Let us hurry with our mission.”

“But… maybe we could have saved him!” Twilight protested.

“We did,” the Iron Warrior retorted.

Twilight’s reply turned to ash in her mouth. The other mares shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of something useful to say.

“CONTACT!” Dest barked suddenly, right before his bolter fired again.

A screech came from deeper in the tunnel, and Applejack shifted her lumen beam to illuminate the incoming targets. Snarling hybrids dashed through the shadows clutching pistols and knives, accompanied by large, misshapen creatures hefting lengths of pipe and axes assembled from scrap metal. These strange mutants resembled Genestealers, but their forms were twisted and their muscles swollen; some had multiple limbs branching awkwardly from a single joint, some had overgrown chitin plates and tentacle growths, and one possessed oversized crab-like claws rather than hands and talons.

“Aberrants!” Dest roared, firing a burst across the cultist vanguard. The mass-reactive rounds pounded against the larger mutants, drilling holes in chitin and pulping muscle. Only one of the monstrosities fell, however, although a plasma ball and a psychic beam took down the next two.

“They must be here for the gas!” Twilight shouted, pressing up against the container while her harmonizer charged again. The sudden return to combat restored her focus in an instant, washing away the doubts and despair that had been welling in her heart. “Applejack, put some fire between us!”

“Ah gotcha!” the farmer shouted, rushing out from behind the chemical container. Her flamer filled quickly filled a patch of ground between the walls, the fire mixing into a deadly barrier that served to illuminate the stretch of tunnel.

Twilight clenched her teeth as bullets started to ricochet off of the gas container. “Who knows what they’ll do with this stuff if they capture it! We should destroy it if we need to!”

Several more bullets rattled the vessel, the cultists opening fire as quickly as they could before they were shot down by the defenders. The enemy had no cover, and even the lurching Aberrants hesitated to charge into the wall of flames. One by one the enemy died, each one striving to unload their weapons into the gas canister.

One of the Abberants managed to fling its hammer before a jet of fire washed over it, and the weapon slammed headlong into the metal vessel. The entire container shook from the blow, and its wall dented inward.

“Wait a minute…” Twilight glanced over at Dest, who was standing away from the container with his boltgun. None of the incoming fire seemed to hit the Iron Warrior. “They’re not shooting at us at all! They’re trying to break open the gas canister!”

“What? Why?” Rarity asked, popping out the energy cell of her plasma gun. “Our armor will protect us from that, right?”

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Rainbow Dash mumbled, “I have a hard time with some of the readouts on this thing but I’m pretty sure I’ve got a few holes in mine.”

Twilight felt her heart leap into her throat. “Dash, retreat! Go back to the main caverns!”

“But I can-“

“NO ARGUING! THIS IS A DIRECT ORDER!” Twilight shouted, using her telekinesis to shove the pegasus back.

A mining pick flew over the wall of fire, embedding its point in the dent left by the hammer. It was impossible for Twilight to hear the hiss of escaping gas over the gunfire and the sound of Rainbow’s flight pack, but several of the meters built into the wall of the canister started to shift wildly.

“Everyone! Fall back!” Twilight shouted, her horn charging with magic. “One stray hole in your suit and you’re done for! Hurry!”

Dest twisted about on one foot and bolted away, and Rarity activated her time dilation engine to give herself an extra burst of speed. The unicorn became a silvery blur racing through the tunnel, and Dest swiftly followed her into the tunnel.

Applejack turned around to follow them, but then Twilight shouted again.

“Applejack, wait! Can you kick that canister further down into the cultists?” Twilight asked.

“Now we’re talkin’!” Applejack snarled, fixing her front greaves on the ground and activating the gravity plating.

Gears and micro-motors squealed as the rear half of her body lifted from the ground, and then a tremendous crash echoed through the tunnel. Applejack’s kick shredded the scaffolding securing the canister to the cargo carrier, and the entire vessel was sent spinning over the wall of fire.

Twilight overcharged the force harmonizer, and then tilted it upward at the ceiling. A screaming energy beam passed over the flames and drilled into the stone above, raining chunks of rock onto the fire. The cultists on the other side were already in full retreat, although many of then had fallen onto the ground, twitching and rasping.

“Applejack, get clear!” Twilight shouted, backing up herself before she fired again.

More of the tunnel collapsed, and this time much larger piles of rock and dust broke away. The debris completely filled the stretch of tunnel between the ponies and the cultists, and once again the hall was plunged into darkness.

Applejack, who had started sprinting away from the cave-in, suddenly noticed that Twilight wasn’t following after her. She quickly turned around, fixing her cowl’s lumen on her friend and leader. “Twi? Ya comin’?”

Twilight was standing in front of the rock pile, staring at it. Her attention seemed to shift slightly when Applejack shined the light over her, casting a long shadow over the rubble. She remained this way for a few more seconds before turning around and securing her force harmonizer to her back.

“They weren’t here for the container. They were here for us,” Twilight said, walking past Applejack. The grimace was evident in her voice.

“Well we gave ‘em plenty of that, then,” Applejack snorted as she followed. “Sure are wastin’ a lot of grunts t’see us off.”

Dozens of warriors lost, just on the chance one of you had a hole in your armor. Tactics borne of confusion and desperation.

The voice was back. Twilight didn’t bother looking around for it this time.

So many dead. So many corrupted, hapless, shackled souls sent screaming to their doom. Bleeding, choking, burning, and left heaped among the tunnels to rot.

Why?

“It’s afraid of us,” Twilight said aloud.

“Huh? Who is?” Applejack asked.

“The head Genestealer. Genestealer cults are led by a Patriarch: the original alien that managed to make its way to the new world and start infecting the populace,” Twilight explained. Her tone was grim, and sounded somewhat distracted. “It builds a psychic network between all the infected so that it can direct its forces or even take complete control if it needs to. That’s what we saw back in the artifact room. The Patriarch took over Lady Nacellus directly, to make sure she carried out its suicidal plan and protect her from Serith’s mind control.”

“And… it’s scared o’us?” Applejack asked, quirking a brow behind the glowing red slits of her visor. “Ah guess we got some pretty nasty muscle on our side, sure, but are we really more dangerous than the army marchin’ down here with tanks and poison gas?”

“Yes,” Twilight answered without hesitation. “We’re an unexpected variable. A wrench bouncing around the cogs of two separate war machines. At first it thought it could fool us and get some of its agents off-world. Then it concocted that ridiculous bargain to try to get our weapons. By now it’s just desperate to be rid of us.”

“Well the feelin’s mutual,” Applejack huffed. “Ah can’t believe we got shot down and ran through a mess o’ bombs just to find more alien monsters down here. We could be helpin’ sack the city or protect the cargo lifts, but instead we’re trudging through dirt n’ corpses tryin’ to get off-world with some kinda fancy rock!”

Twilight didn’t respond. Her thoughts churned chaotically in her head, and her breath seemed to echo within her helmet.

After a few more minutes of travel, they re-emerged into the caverns where the others were waiting. The mares picked their way over and around the dead, but with each corpse she stepped over Twilight felt her anger grow once more. The expressions frozen in grimaces of rage or ashen agony touched her in a way that she hadn’t felt since the invasion of Equestria.

They could have been saved. They could have been left alone to live peaceful, if deprived lives. But they were betrayed and murdered on the whims of that cowardly wretch that crawls within the depths.

“About time you got back! We were starting to get worried!”

Twilight shook off the strange whispers while she and Applejack approached the others. Erin, Byron, and Suuna were all wearing slightly different variants of Imperial body armor, each one with their rank insignias and heraldry cut off. Their gas masks were perfectly identical in design, and Twilight wouldn’t have been able to guess which was which if Suuna wasn’t carrying the artifact and Erin her scavenged shotgun. There was also a third Iron Warrior once again, which Twilight had to assume was Chrysalis taking a form that had a proper breathing apparatus that could protect her from poison gas.

“Lord Dest said you found another gas canister. What happened to it?” Byron asked anxiously. “These suits and masks should keep us safe, but I’d prefer not to test them.”

“Also, Mistress Trixie is still unprotected,” Suuna interjected. “Her helmet is useless and none of these masks fit a pony’s head, especially not a unicorn’s.” The unicorn in question nodded anxiously and awaited a response.

“I don’t think we have to worry about the gas,” Twilight said. “They pierced the vessel, but I caved in the tunnel behind us with the canister on the other side. I could only detect trace elements back near the debris pile, and none at all in here.”

“It was largely a waste of time and ammunition,” Dest grumbled, “but I suppose it is for the best that we deny the alien filth more victims and weapons.”

“I have our next-best exit. It’s quite a walk; we may have to stop and rest before we can get out,” Erin admitted.

“That doesn’t sound safe,” Rarity grimaced. “but whether we elect to try to sleep in the middle of enemy territory or not, we should update the Warsmith on our progress. Or lack thereof.”

“I’m telling you, you should just unseal my warforms,” Chrysalis sniffed, her feminine voice sounding quite strange filtered through the Astartes vox. “I’m sure one of them could blast a tunnel through here or something.”

“These tunnels are weak and have been subjected to more stress than ever lately,” Byron said wearily. “There’s every chance that trying to dig a new tunnel, much less BLASTING one, will just get us trapped down here or buried alive.”

“Then let us get our heading and leave this rotting sewer,” Serith said, standing impatiently at the edge of the group.

Twilight looked from one person and pony to another, one after another, until finally her visor’s gaze settled on Serith. “Lord Serith, you said you sensed the cult’s master when Lady Nacellus confronted us before, right?”

The Sorcerer tilted his head to one side. “Yes. The Patriarch – the heinous master of this nest of xeno filth – seized direct control of her mind to confront us. No lesser officer of these fools could have shielded their pawns so effectively from my own power, but the strength of its link proved to be their undoing.”

Twilight nodded. “Was it strong enough that you could tell where the Patriarch is? Or was, at least?”

Serith hesitated. “If you’re asking if I know where to find the beast I’m afraid I do not, Lady Sparkle.”

“That would be extremely helpful, but that wasn’t what I meant,” the Princess said. “Could you do that, potentially? Use a cultist to find the Patriarch?”

“Sparkle, what do you think you’re doing?” Dest asked.

“That depends on his answer,” Twilight replied, still staring directly at Serith.

The Sorcerer raised an armored finger and scratched the chin of his helmet. “Hmmmm… yes. I believe I could. It would have to be one of the true spawn of the cult, not merely an infected host, and we would need it alive, but I could use such a link to guide us in the material labyrinth.”

“Then we need to set up a trap,” Twilight said with a nod.

“No, we do not,” Dest snapped. “Sparkle, what is this? What are you trying to accomplish here?”

Twilight turned to face Dest and the others. “I want to exterminate the Genestealer Cult. Or at least kill the Patriarch.”

“Oh HAY yes!” Rainbow Dash did an excited somersault in the air and then clapped her front greaves together.

“If we’re going to take that monster down, I want to be there to help,” Erin said immediately, her face flush with barely suppressed rage.

“Wait, why exactly are we attacking the cult?” Rarity asked.

“Because I’m mad at them,” Twilight answered calmly. “More philosophically, they’re very bad people doing very bad things, and they should be stopped for the good of the rest of the galaxy. But I want to be honest that mostly I’m just personally offended by their activities here and want them all to die.”

“Welp, nothing we can do. You can’t argue with philosophy,” Pinkie Pie said solemnly before her ammo hoppers clunked into place.

“People argue with philosophy all the time, idiot. That’s practically the point,” Chrysalis snapped, “but anyway, I like this plan. Let’s murder this Patriarch creature.”

“No. This is absurd,” Dest said firmly, stepping up behind Twilight. “This is unrelated to our mission. We have a way out already.”

Twilight politely waited for him to finish, and then turned her head to look at the driver. “We have two mission objectives here: To rescue as many refugees as we can, and to recover the artifact that Mister Hess used to contact me. We’ve accomplished the latter, and I consider the elimination of the Patriarch to be our best option for the former.” Twilight then turned the rest of the way around and bowed her head. “Of course, you’re an Iron Warrior. If you insist we avoid the cultists as much as possible, I can’t disobey your orders, even if I’m nominally in charge. Do you order us to withdraw instead?”

Dest didn’t answer, staring down at the alicorn.

It all seemed so ridiculous. This mission. This plan. This staring match between a corrupt, demon-infested Astartes and a miniature horse. The lives of these underhive slum-dwellers meant nothing to him, particularly now that he knew some portion of them were brainwashed slaves of xeno infiltrators. The answer seemed so obvious.

And yet…

“Ah’m not usually one to stick mah snout in lookin’ fer trouble, but this varmint sounds like it needs to be put down,” Applejack opined. “Violatin’ folk and turnin’ ‘em against their kin… Ah see where Twi’s comin’ from.”

“I really would like to be out of here as soon as possible,” Rarity sighed, “BUT… it isn’t as if this creature has been minding its own business and leaving us to our affairs. There’s no reason to think it would let us leave safely if we try to avoid it.”

“Let’s beat up the bad bug,” Rainbow Dash said. “The bad bug that’s not on our side, that is.”

“Shut up,” Chrysalis huffed. “I’ve already said my piece. I’m perfectly happy putting off whatever clash with Imperial patrols waits for us on the surface by hunting down some monster skulking in the sewers.”

“Trixie’s going to have to go against the grain here and advise we just leave.” The magician made a gagging expression. “Aside from the needless risks to life and limb, this place smells AWFUL without a pressurized helmet, and Trixie really wants to get home to get hers fixed as soon as possible.”

Fluttershy shimmered into the visible spectrum behind Dest’s leg. “Uhm… E-Excuse me… I know that I’m usually in favor of pacifism, or at least reducing potential violence as much p-possible,” she stuttered, taking a deep breath, “but what the Genestealers are doing to these people is BEYOND VILE! The way they violate their bodies and minds, turn them against their friends and families, and then turn them into… into… BABY FACTORIES for their soldiers! It’s… I just…” The meek pegasus stumbled over her words, her anger struggling against her fear. Then she took another breath and finished with a surprising degree of frost in her voice. “We need to stop them.”

A groan came from Dest, but before he could speak Vel’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

I don’t really get why everyone’s so mad at the bug people, but it sure sounds like we’ll get to kill more things if we do what the horses want. I would like to kill more things.

“All right. All right!” Dest snapped, clenching his clawed gauntlets into fists. “Fine! We’ll kill the Patriarch. It’s an unnecessary risk, but I have no further objections,” the Possessed Astartes growled.

“As the only other Iron Warrior among our unit, I suppose you’ll be wanting my opinion as well,” Serith offered.

“No,” Dest, Twilight, and Chrysalis all replied.

Twilight turned around and stepped up to Chrysalis. “If we need a live cultist to do this, then we need a trap and we need bait.”

“I’ll be the bait,” Erin said immediately, stepping forward. “Apparently these monsters have been sneaking around my home for weeks or months, turning my friends and subordinates into brainwashed slaves. I’ll do anything and everything I can to pay them back for that.”

“I’ll be the trap,” Chrysalis said. A green glow washed over her and the surface of her armor rippled, as if her magic itself was so excited it could barely be contained. “I have no particular grievance against these aliens, but it sounds like fun.”

“This had better work, Sparkle,” Dest warned. “We’ve given you a great deal of leeway in your missions because you are not one of us and you get results. But here you are aiding our enemies directly. Any losses suffered in this attempt may well doom our chances to escape this world.”

“I know, Lord,” Twilight said. “Thank you for understanding.” Then she turned around. “Chrysalis?”

“I just have to look harmless and follow the human female, right?” the changeling asked. Her body was consumed in a green glow and shrank considerably. When the aura vanished, Erin Whyd was looking at a perfect replica of Byron Hess, who was still standing behind her. The only difference was that the visor of the gas mask was tinted green.

“Are you… me?” Byron asked, sounding awestruck. “You can take on the appearance of someone else at will? Without harming the original?”

“I generally prefer a little harm to the original to keep them in line while I’m busy deceiving their loved ones, but yes,” Chrysalis admitted, her voice matching Byron’s perfectly. “Shall we move out?”

“Just a moment,” Twilight said, taking a deep breath. “Disengage Nemesis lock. Authorization six.”

Chrysalis shuddered, feeling a rush of heat pulse up her spine. Her senses felt electrified, and a heavy gasp escaped from the mask that obscured her face. “… Thank you,” she said, sounding even happier than before.

Erin took a cautious step back. “What… What was that? What just happened?”

“It’s a long story, but the upshot is that if you run into a much larger patrol or assault force than we’re expecting then she should be able to handle it now,” Twilight said. “Chrysalis, I’m trusting you with this because I want you to protect Erin. Is that understood? Bring her back alive.”

“A trifle,” the Changeling Queen assured her. The mask visor pulsed green, and an electric arc danced over the fingers of one hand.

“Great. Then move out. We won’t be far behind you, but we can’t follow too closely.” Then Twilight turned around. “Lord Serith, I have some technical questions… about psychic networks.”

Harvest of Steel
Solon’s Forge

“Oh what ish THISH now? She wantsh to delay extraction? For what? I thought they had all the humansh they could shafely eshcape with!”

Spike chuckled nervously as he shuffled through the sheets of parchment in his claws. Two of them were crude maps of underground tunnels hastily marked up with icons, notes, and corrections, while the others held long messages littered with footnotes. The footnotes mostly referenced the maps, and Spike’s throat was already starting to hurt from the amount of paperwork he was spitting up.

“They seem to have taken on a… secondary objective? Yeah, let’s go with that,” the young dragon said, looking embarrassed. “Twilight says that they need to track and destroy the head of the Genestealer Cult before they can safely leave the ruins. It seems to be interfering with their withdrawal.”

“Hunting a cult Patriarch ish no shimple tashk,” Solon grunted. “Granted, it’sh not the mosht dangeroush thing she’sh ever done, but thish ish not a priority misshion.”

“Should I tell her you said to just leave and avoid getting into fights?” Spike asked.

Solon didn’t respond right away. He was working on some sort of disc the size of a manhole cover, and an array of needle-like probes attached his arm kept stabbing into the ring of nodes and circuits drawn into the top. He pulled his arm away, and then a beam of blue light pulsed from above, searing something in the assembly.

“No. While her prioritiesh may not alwaysh align ash I wish, the Princessh ish in a better poshition than I to judge her tactical needsh,” Solon admitted. “Beshidesh! Desht and Sherith are with her. They should keep her in one piece.”

Spike considered that silently for a few seconds. “… Really?”

“… Well, Desht will. Probably. I don’t know him very well.” Solon brought up a holo-screen and then tapped at it. “Oh. Okay, he’sh that one. Huh.” He swiped at the screen again, flipping the image to the next section. “Maybe I should have inshishted Gaela go with them after all.”

“Is she gonna be okay?” Spike asked anxiously.

“If anyone can endure the treachery of the alien while the Imperium shlowly closhesh itsh nooshe, it’sh our little Princessh Shparkle,” Solon chuckled, flipping over the disc. “But I may be able to help with her exit, at leasht.”

He tapped the top of the disc, and it started to vibrate. Lumens set into the circumference blinked on, and Spike winced as a high-pitched whine came from the device.

“What is that thing, anyway?” Spike asked, finally putting away all the papers he was holding.

“It’sh an augur dishruptor array. Shtolen from our friendsh in the Lamman Shept and modified for our ushe, of courshe,” Solon chuckled. “Converting a transhport to have a dedicated cloaking field is a project of weeksh. Thish device will protect the extraction craft from long-range detection and weapon locksh while it shneaksh into the landing zone.”

“Also: mines. Make sure it has something to deal with mines,” Spike reminded him.

A raspy chuckled came from the armored giant. “Of courshe, ash you shay. Deployment ish in shix hoursh. Sho much work yet to do!”

Ulaisse capital moon
Underhive complex sigma
Exact geo-coordinates unknown

“So… I don’t think we covered this before, but… what… are you, exactly? If you don’t mind me asking?”

Chrysalis looked up from the dataslate she had been perusing. She was shuffling along barely a meter behind Erin, who crept ahead and scanned the tunnel for threats with a lumen taped to her shotgun. They’d kept relatively silent up until now, with nothing interrupting the scuffing of boots on rockcrete and the sound of dripping water.

“Didn’t one of the ponies tell you?”

“She just said you were a monster.”

“Well I don’t know what difference it makes, but if you want to know my particular type of monster, I’m called a changeling,” Chrysalis said with a shrug.

“I see. And… you arrived with the others? The, uh, the ponies and Astartes?”

“Correct. There’s only been one species of aliens stalking you and your people for untold years, and it’s not mine,” the Changeling Queen explained. “I just found some guard sleeping at his post and took his appearance. Eventually I was collected by your leader for a guard detail as we rushed to the artifact chamber. Not my most intricate infiltration work, but I’m rather proud of it.”

“You’re different from the other xenos, aren’t you?” Erin asked. “Different from the… the Chaos soldiers too. Not just in your species.”

Chrysalis gave a hearty chuckle in Byron’s baritone voice. “You noticed,” she said lightly.

Then the changeling’s tone changed. “Yes, I am different. I’m not a good little soldier like the pony servants or a half-insane slave to evil gods or whatnot. I’m not in this for you or for the fleet. I’m still not totally convinced you aren’t infected like your leader, in fact.”

Erin sped up her advance and grimaced under her mask. “Yeah… me neither.”

“Grim!” Chrysalis chirped, keeping her pace the same.

Erin slowed down as they approached another section of tunnel. The walls on both sides gave away to a larger hallway with rough, drilled stone for a ceiling. The left side was also raw stone, albeit stone that had been prepared for construction, abandoned for a century, and then exposed to a few battles between rival scavenger gangs. The right side was a veritable web of piping that fed into a large water pump. It had been completely gutted for scrap by now, of course, and half the pipes were egregiously damaged or missing.

Erin Whyd spent a few seconds studying the area, and then beckoned her partner forward. Chrysalis approached, her attention back on the dataslate Twilight had left her with.

This time Erin didn’t advance again once Chrysalis stepped within earshot. “Someone else is here,” she whispered.

“Hmm?” the Changeling Queen looked up. “Where?”

Erin nudged her head toward the piping without actually turning to face it.

“… Hello? Where?” Chrysalis asked. “Can’t you just point? Who cares if they know they’re detected?”

Erin groaned, which was the last thing Chrysalis heard before a shadowy blur tackled her to the ground.

“Gurk!” Chrysalis hit the rockcrete roughly, and before she knew it she felt a heavy weight on her back. Both her arms were pinned to the ground, and she felt the flat of a knife press into the leather collar that fully sealed her head into the gas mask. A snarling command was issued into her ear, but the changeling missed it completely; she was already thinking of the best retaliation for the unlucky wretch on top of her that wouldn’t kill the creature.

Erin whirled around, beaming her lumen directly onto the assailant. A four-armed hybrid glared back at her through the gloom. A bandanna was wrapped around its neck and chin, obscuring much of its face but leaving its swollen, bald, and chitin-plated upper head exposed. Three of its four arms held long daggers, with one of them pressed against Chrysalis. The fourth held a stub pistol that was aimed squarely at Erin.

Her first instinct was to fire, but Erin fought down her survival reflex and started stuttering instead. “Wh-What… What are y-you?” she gasped.

Several clicking noises came from behind her, and Erin glanced over her shoulder. Four more gunmen were in the passage now, autoguns aimed at her back. Their faces were obscured with bandages, rags, and goggles, but these soldiers at least had only two arms each.

“O… Okay. Y-You got me,” Erin mumbled, carefully leaning down to place her shotgun on the ground. “I surrender.”

The cultists advanced, and one of them seized her by the arm and spun her around. Erin grunted as her arm was twisted about, and then yelped as she was hurled onto the rockcrete. The gunmen pinned her down on her belly, occasionally whispering to each other but largely working in disturbing silence.

“Wh-What are you doing? Are you going to kill us?” she asked nervously.

They didn’t respond. A scraping noise came from behind the group, and the hybrids turned to acknowledge the new arrival. A Purestrain Genestealer crept down from the web of piping, its black eyes gleaming in the dim light.

The alien stalked up to the hybrids surrounding Erin, drool leaking from between its needle-sharp teeth. The soldiers started to move, intending to shift Erin on her back.

“No,” croaked the four-armed hybrid. “Do this one first. There’s something off with him.” The voice was raspy and cracked on nearly every syllable, as if it wasn’t used to speech.

The Genestealer paused only for a moment, and then scurried past Erin. The dagger-wielding cultist nodded and then moved out of the way. The Genestealer seized Chrysalis by the arm, and then pulled her up before pushing her down again, this time on her back. Two of its hands pinned down her arms, and a third reached up for the mask over her head.

With a quick swipe of its claw, the alien infiltrator tore the face mask off of its next victim and tossed it to the side. The face plate of the mask evaporated into green sparks in mid-air, dispersing in all directions and then flickering in the gloom. This was sufficiently strange that the Genestealer hesitated, watching the dying lights rather than its next victim.

The face of Byron Hess grinned victoriously, eyes aglow in the color of emeralds.

Erin stared in genuine shock as the Genestealer was flung into the air. It struck the network of piping, slamming its head into one of the rusted input valves hard enough to dent the metal. The alien landed flat on its face, badly dazed and bleeding from its swollen skull.

Chrysalis lurched upward into a sitting position, gears whirling and rotors straining. Huge drum-shaped hands with three fingers pressed against the floor, lifting a massive mechanical body weighed down with thick armor plating. A dome-like head swiveled back and forth, looking over the Genestealer cultists from behind a featureless glassine screen. A heavy stubber sat on one shoulder, turning with the movement of the head, but it didn’t fire.

Chrysalis stood up fully, almost filling the hall from floor to ceiling with the mass of the Kastelan Robot she had turned into. One of the cultists broke from his incredulous gaping and opened fire, spraying into the side of the mechanical body. The bullets spanked uselessly against thickened battle plate, and a few fizzled without even touching armor, instead bouncing off of a protective energy shield.

The Changeling Queen ignored the shooter entirely, shifting toward the dagger-wielding hybrid. One of the robot’s hands swiped for the creature, moving ponderously but with tremendous force behind it. The hybrid leapt over the grasping digits, landed on the arm’s vambrace, and then plunged two daggers right into the face plate. A gunshot followed the assault, pounding the visor with a heavy slug.

Chrysalis was quite surprised by such a bold attack, but it proved futile. The blades scraped against the layered glassine without piercing it, and damage returns were negative. The data flashed before her eyes – or whatever the exact sensory organ her current body used – and she pushed it aside to make another lunge for the cultist. It leapt away, firing the pistol again, but wasn’t quite fast enough this time.

The awkward metal fingers clamped around the hybrid’s leg, and it began to claw and scrape at the Kastelan’s hand to try to find a weak point. Bullets hammered the transformed queen from behind as well, but Chrysalis merely chuckled while she held up her prize, her laugh emerging as a low-pitched rumble.

“SO GULLIBLE. SO WEAK,” she blared, her voice distorting badly from the vocalizer that was never meant to emit complex speech. “NOW… WHO WILL GET TO LIVE?”

The Purestrain Genestealer stumbled to its feet, a lazy snarl emerging from its throat. Chrysalis dropped a metal fist onto its head, pulverizing it against the ground. Much of the alien’s body disintegrated as the fist’s power field activated, and a thick crack ran through the rockcrete as it was painted a dark red from what remained.

“WELL, NOT YOU THEN.” Bullets continued sparking against her back and left arm, and the dome head swiveled to face the handful of cultists shooting at her. “I SEE NONE OF YOU ARE VOLUNTEERING EITHER.”

The soldiers began to scatter, but they had waited too long. Chrysalis cut into them with her heavy stubber, sending a steady burst of slugs sawing across the width of the tunnel. Erin kept her head down and covered her ears while her captors were scythed down, making herself as small a target as possible.

Then the deserter was grabbed and hauled to her feet, an autogun thrust into her neck.

Chrysalis stopped shooting when one of the cultists grabbed Erin and held her in front of him as shield, his gun pointed at her neck. “OH? AND WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?”

The cultist glanced around uncertainly. His fellow soldiers were either dead or dying on the ground, and it was sheer luck that he hadn’t taken a hit. The Purestrain was dead. But the assassin…

“Put that one down or this one dies,” the cultist growled, nudging his chin toward the hybrid still clawing uselessly at the robot’s hand.

“HMMMMM…” Chrysalis made a thoughtful noise that trailed off into a resonant hum. “TERMS ACCEPTED.”

Then she crushed the hybrid’s leg within her fist and dropped it onto the floor.

The assassin released an enraged shriek as it hit the ground, and its fellow cultist flinched. In that moment the autogun’s barrel shifted, and Erin grabbed the weapon before throwing her head backward to slam into the cultist’s face. He stumbled, and then she twisted around on one foot to plant a kick into his belly.

He fell onto the ground, releasing his rifle to his own hostage. Erin immediately spun it about in her hands and then fired, executing him.

“HAH! HAH! HAH! HAH!” Chrysalis laughed at the sight before her, the awkward, halting sound booming through the tunnels. “THAT WAS FUN! YOU’RE NOT SO BAD AFTER ALL!”

Erin couldn’t respond right away, as her breath was heaving and her heart was thundering in her chest. “I could say the same about you… but you are actually pretty bad.”

Chrysalis kept laughing as the body of the combat robot shrank into her natural quadrupedal form. The flickering green magic clung to her horn once she completed the transformation, clearly illuminating the changeling’s fangs while she looked over the surviving hybrid and grinned.

The cultist assassin, which laid on its belly with its mangled leg, suddenly flipped onto its back and fired its pistol blindly. The stubber slug whipped by Chrysalis’s mane, passing close enough that she could feel the air pressure along her cheek. Her smile only faltered slightly as she cast her next spell, striking the hostage with a ray of green.

“Still so spry? Perhaps I should have ripped the leg off completely!” the Changeling Queen taunted. Her magic washed over the hybrid, wrapping it in sticky webbing. In the blink of an eye, the cultist’s four arms were all glued tight to its torso and its legs were locked in a tight cocoon.

“There. That should keep-“ Chrysalis was interrupted when the hybrid fired its pistol again, as its finger was still stuck over the trigger. The stub round tore out of the webbing and ricocheted off the floor, coming nowhere near her or Erin.

“You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you?” Chrysalis asked blandly.

“Not quite as difficult as we did, I hope.” Erin walked up behind the cultist and gave it a swift kick in the shoulder. “That should be good enough until the others make their way here.” She walked past the hostage and picked up the tablet Chrysalis had been carrying while they had been laying their trap. A few taps and a swipe, and the device started generating a signum beacon.

The hybrid fired its pistol again, trying to shift its aim as best it could with the gun barrel pasted against its stomach. The stub slug struck the ground slightly closer to Chrysalis, but she looked more bored than upset.

“I hope this works,” Erin mumbled as she secured her new autorifle to her waist and went back for her shotgun.

“I expect it will. Sparkle has disgustingly good luck when it comes to these silly heroic quests of hers,” Chrysalis noted. Then her ears perked. “Ah, and here they come.”

Rainbow Dash came rocketing through the tunnel at what she considered a decent cruising speed, ranging far ahead of the other ponies. She cut her boosters once she spied green light down the corridor, slowing to a hover right over Chrysalis.

“All right! Looks like you cleaned up over here!” Rainbow landed at the foot of their hostage and spent a moment observing the large, flat footprints behind the changeling. “So what’d you turn into this time? Dreadnought?”

“It was some kind of large metal human,” Chrysalis answered with a shrug.

“A large… what?” Erin furrowed her brow. “That was a robot. A Kastelan war robot, I believe. I’ve seen them before, in the Adrast Mechanicus facilities.”

“Oh. Okay, sure. One of those,” Chrysalis shrugged. “I don’t know the names of all the bodies yet. The little labels are very hard to read.”

Suddenly the cultist’s gun discharged again, striking Rainbow’s leg. The slug bounced off her greaves, and then hit the wall. The pegasus jumped in surprise, stumbling away from the entangled hybrid.

“What the hay?! That guy’s still armed?!”

Chrysalis snickered. “Yes. I suppose I should have disarmed it before trapping it like this, but it’s too late now. Besides, it’s not like it can aim.”

Erin gave the entangled body another kick, eliciting a hiss from the masked killer. “It has a stub revolver. It should be out of ammunition by now. Or… after one or two more shots, at the most. I wasn’t keeping careful track with an autogun pressed to my neck.”

The ground-shaking footsteps of an approaching Dreadnought became audible, announcing the arrival of the rest of the space pirates. Erin remained behind the head of their hostage, crouched with her weapon ready. Chrysalis seemed to lose herself in thought, staring into the flickering lights projected within her augmented eye. Rainbow Dash paced around the hybrid, observing it closely.

“Can this guy talk?” the pegasus asked.

“Yes, I think it said something earlier,” Erin replied. “A lot of the Deep Skulkers avoid speaking because they have harsh, raspy voices. Their throats have been damaged from all the dust and subterranean gases down in the lower depths. Or… at least, that’s what we were told before. I suppose there might be a much different reason for it.”

“Hey. Hey, you!” Rainbow Dash crept over next to the cocooned cultists and poked it with her hoof. “Where’s your home base at? Are there more of your friends nearby?”

Black eyes stared back at her from the hood and wrappings around the prisoner’s face. The hybrid didn’t make a peep.

“Awww, how brave! It won’t tell its captors anything!” Chrysalis cooed. Her malicious grin showed off her fangs while she loomed over the hybrid. “Is that what your Patriarch demands of you? Is it here now, watching us through its puppet’s eyes?”

The hybrid’s eyes shifted to meet her gaze, and Chrysalis’s eyes flashed. The cultist’s eyes went totally black, like twin pools of crude oil. The Changeling Queen’s horn flared more brightly, its energy building, and then after several seconds it dimmed again to a level that merely produced light for everyone.

“Oh, yes. It’s here,” Chrysalis said, still smiling.

“What? Where?” Rainbow looked behind her nervously and saw Serith approaching through the corridor.

“Here. Inside this hapless wretch,” Chrysalis stamped a hoof on her prisoner’s chest. It didn’t flinch. “I can feel it. This… Patriarch. Like a shell around the pawn’s mind. Impenetrable. Cold. But… alive.”

Erin shuddered. “Alien witchcraft… the most vile heresy.”

“Oh no, not at all. But you’ll see the most vile heresy in all its magnificent glory soon enough.” Serith said, having come close enough to join their conversation. Twilight followed him closely, while everyone else trailed behind them in a long cluster. Pinkie Pie took up the rear, walking backward while she splashed the floodlight back and forth across the tunnels behind them.

“So he’s here already, is he? Good,” Serith said conversationally, walking ahead of Twilight and standing in front of the prisoner. “Hello, Patriarch! We’ve dispatched your pawns and marched on your territory. Your every desperate defense and ambush has been repelled with ease. One further matter remains to be resolved: where are YOU?”

The hostage didn’t respond immediately, its soulless eyes gleaming in the light. When it did, its voice was obnoxiously loud and discordant, as if the hybrid had lost all sense of volume and tone control.

“The Imperium approaches! They dig deeper by the hour! Even now, they reinforce against your escape! What trifle is this?!” the hybrid groaned.

“For us, dealing with you probably is just a needless distraction from evading the Imperial military,” Twilight admitted, “but for you, the situation is somewhat more dire.”

“You will be buried here with the rest of us,” the cultist said. It was probably intended as more of a sneering dismissal, but it sounded strained and awkward instead.

“This is unproductive. Serith?” Twilight’s horn lit up, providing another source of light over the helpless prisoner. “Take what we need.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” the Sorcerer said, his hands blazing with light. A similar light sparked over the forehead of his helmet, and the lenses of his visor pulsed. “Now, little pawn… let’s find out precisely-“

The hybrid’s gun discharged, and stub slug struck the knee hinge in Serith’s right leg. The boot slipped and Serith stumbled, teetering badly and then falling to one knee.

A moment of surprised silence followed the crash of metal against stone. Serith hadn’t fallen apart or anything so dramatic as that, but he could hear more than one of the ponies trying to choke back laugher behind their vox grilles. Chrysalis was less restrained, and she giggled openly at the sight.

“Okay, that was his last bullet,” Erin said. “Probably. Are… you okay, Lord Astartes?”

Serith suddenly lunged forward, seizing the hybrid’s head between both hands. He stood up, lifting the prisoner by his skull, and Twilight and Erin quickly backed away. Chrysalis kept giggling.

“No more banter, then,” Serith hissed as a glowing mist poured from his gauntlets and helmet grille. “Give me your thoughts, slave.”

Light pierced the hybrid’s eyes, and an agonized sound came from behind clenched teeth. It started to squirm and thrash as best it could within the cocoon, and Erin and Suuna turned away from the sight with a grimace. Byron peered intently from behind his gas mask, absolutely fascinated.

Serith forced the hybrid to stare directly at his helmet, and the brilliant, otherworldly energy flooded straight from burning retinas to ruby lenses. Sparks danced in the intervening space, spinning around the winding columns of power. The hybrid shook, and the strands of webbing nearest to his face began to burn and fray.

“The Patriarch is reacting!” Serith shouted. “It is attempting to extinguish this pawn!”

“Can you stop it?” Twilight asked. “Or speed up?”

“The more I intensify this process, the faster it dies! The faster it dies, the less likely I succeed!” Serith shouted back.

Twilight’s horn flashed brighter, and an aura of violet spread over the prisoner’s torso. “Fluttershy!” she barked.

“YEEP!” Fluttershy jumped straight out of her cloaking field, appearing in the air and then falling back to the ground clumsily. “Y-Yes?”

“His heart is slowing down! Inject a stimulant, now!” the Princess ordered.

“Oh, er, h-how much should I use?” she asked nervously as she approached the writhing cocoon.

“All of it! Just juice him!” Rainbow Dash shouted helpfully, having only the slightest idea what was going on.

Fluttershy squeaked and jammed her narthecium injector into the hybrid’s back. The gauntlet emitted a loud hiss, and one of the colored tubes drained of fluid.

“CLEAR!” Twilight shouted. Then she zapped the hybrid with a jolt of purple electricity.

The prisoner screamed, and its body shook even while Serith kept its head fixed in place. Veins bulged and darkened, and more tears started erupting throughout the webbing that entangled the Genestealer cultist. The pulsing flow of light continued, and a grim laugh came from the Chaos Sorcerer.

“The body rebels against the mind trying to snuff it out. Good. GOOD. Give your secrets to me, wretch! Only then may you expire,” Serith taunted.

“This is quite awful enough without the running monologue,” Rarity grumbled.

“Wait, what’s happening now?” Chrysalis felt a tingle run down her horn. It was a completely new sensation, and she took a cautious step away from the Sorcerer and his victim.

“RrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRAUGH!!” the cocoon ripped apart around the hybrid, freeing its two upper arms, and suddenly a pair of daggers lashed out for the Iron Warrior. The blades plunged into either side of Serith’s gorget, slipping under the helmet and piercing the thin connective layer of metal beneath.

Serith’s focus didn’t waver, and the flood of light and power didn’t stop. “Pathetic. Now die.”

The energy flow suddenly reversed, and arcs of red burst around Serith’s gauntlets. A faltering, gurgling cry came from the hybrid, and its eyes rolled back in its head before a wreathe of smoke rose around it.

“It is done,” the Sorcerer said, releasing the body. The hybrid slumped to the ground, its eyes pale and empty. “I have the way forward. The alien’s nest is well-hidden, but not far.” He took up his force halberd again and pointed it down the hall.

“Does the Patriarch know what you did?” Twilight asked.

“Yes. It was not possible to hide my intentions while scouring away the pawn’s thoughts,” Serith didn’t sound displeased.

“Fine. Equinought Squadron, lets move out!” the Princess commanded before racing down the hall.

The others followed after her, most of them paying the Sorcerer no mind. Byron, however, hesitated and pointed up at the Astartes psyker.

“Uh, my Lord, you have a little, um…” he pointed to his neck awkwardly.

“Hm? Oh. Right.” Serith reached up at his neck, and then grabbed one of the daggers wedged in-between his helmet and gorget. He tugged it free, and then tossed it on the ground before pulling out the other one.

“Are… you okay?” Byron squeaked. Erin was watching as well, and still had her weapon aimed at the dead hybrid. “The… The blades went into your… your throat. Didn’t they?”

Serith laughed, not deigning to answer the deserter. He turned to follow Trixie, who was escorting Suuna just ahead of Pinkie’s Dreadnought. Trixie made a quip about splitting headaches, but it was mostly drowned out by the echo of heavy, metal-clad footsteps through the darkness.

Erin started to follow them, but Byron caught her eye. He glanced in the other direction, into the gloom of the tunnels they had come from.

“… We can still turn back, you know,” the explosives expert said. “There’s still time. They don’t need us. There are many other ways out, and the Skulkers will be occupied now.”

Erin turned to face the darkened tunnel, still slick with the blood of the slain cultists. She reached down toward one of the bodies, taking a pair of autogun magazines that were clipped loosely to the corpse’s belt.

“I suppose we do have a choice, don’t we? Insane eldritch maniacs, alien subversives, or throwing ourselves onto the mercy of the Emperor, blessed be His name. We could even try to hide out and secure passage off-world with some petty smugglers or something. It’s not like we don’t know what we’re getting into now.” She reloaded her new autogun and then turned around, heading in the same direction as the others. “I’ve always liked ponies, though. You coming?”

Byron Hess sighed, his shoulders slumping. Then he rushed to follow her.

Author's Note

Phew! Barely managed to churn this out before the end of the year! It would be pretty embarrassing to only have 5 chapters (counting the Gears one) in a year! At least this bumps up the average to one every two months :twilightsheepish:

Deep Hunt

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 10
The Deep Hunt

Ulaisse capital moon
Hive city Adrast – system capital
Governor’s Palace

A fist wrapped in a silken glove swept over the desk surface, smashing aside a crystal goblet. Warm amber fluid splashed across the holovid emitters of the table, and dozens of floating images flickered and frayed. Papers and seals slowly floated to the floor, but the goblet reached it first. Bright blue shards were dashed across the tile, glinting in the beams of the high lumens above. The sound of the goblet breaking boomed through the room, echoing against the high ceilings. Hardly any other sound could be heard in the moments that followed, and the few grim sighs and cleared throats offered in reply to the outburst failed to clear the breadth of the hololithic strategium table.

“No more excuses. No more delays. NO MORE FAILURE.”

The man leaning over the table with his teeth clenched in fury looked to be in his 50’s, with a full head of dark black hair that dropped just below his shoulders. Augmetic enhancements were built into the side of his head, but they were of a remarkably high grade; relatively unobtrusive with wiring that matched very well with his hair as they wrapped around to the back of his head. His outfit was composed of fine crimson fabrics and ivory silks, and it screamed opulence and authority.

Across from him were half a dozen men and women, some in military dress. All looked haggard, as if they had not slept well in days. Given the situation, that was an entirely reasonable assumption.

“The alien claws at us from within, seeding our populace with their poison. It floods our sectors from without, consuming entire worlds while draining our naval reserves. And now, while we stand on the precipice, the Great Enemy emerges from nowhere and sweeps away our defenses with treachery and witchcraft?!”

“The situation is dire but not beyond salvaging, Lord Governor,” said an elderly woman stiffly. “Our armies have not been able to grapple with the foe directly, but-“

“Then what good are our armies?!” the Governor howled. “The God-machines of the Legion Titanicus proudly march a constant orbit around Adrast while alien monsters stalk the underhive and pirates pillage our refinery!”

“There is value in keeping the capital unscathed,” allowed another elderly advisor. He was about to say something else, but was interrupted when the Governor slammed another fist down into the strategium table.

“You have NOT kept my capital UNSCATHED!!” he roared. “Thousands lost to purges! An insidious cult holed up in the forests! Shortfalls and lost earnings beyond imagining as the other worlds are sacked! And… And now… THIS!!”

He pointed to the hololith being displayed above the strategium map. It was a high-fidelity, large-scale image of Rainbow Dash. The pegasus was in full armor and captured in mid-air, having just kicked off the side of a Valkyrie gunship. Bullets and lasers criss-crossed the sky around her, and several fighters were performing dangerous banking turns to avoid collision from chasing their target.

“What IS this?! Answer me!”

The officers and advisors shuffled their feet, glancing at each other and mumbling quietly for several seconds. The governor dropped back into his chair, awaiting an answer while looking like he was ready to shoot whoever provided it. One of his entourage eventually sighed and leaned against the strategium table, gesturing to the image helplessly.

“We only know that it’s some sort of aerial combat unit, Lord Governor. The iconography and armor colors have confirmed that it belongs to the Iron Warriors, a band of treacherous Space Marines that have aligned with the forces of Chaos against the Holy Emperor.”

“That is no Astartes,” the governor hissed.

“Correct, Lord. That is clear… The armor, however, bears numerous conventions of Astartes armor design. We have… few theories as to what is inside, unfortunately.”

“It can’t be an automata,” added a woman with her eyes replaced by an augmetic visor. “Both the Techpriests and the patrols agree on that. The armor design bears too may hallmarks of a living body, and the pilots claimed its flight movements felt highly organic.”

“Then WHAT is it?!” the governor snapped.

The aides were silent for several seconds, but then one cautiously coughed into a hand. “If I may, my Lord… I think it might be… a horse.”

“A what?” the governor asked, his voice dark.

“Well, a miniature horse, maybe. A pony.” The advisor spent a moment to wet his lips. “There… There was some talk of something very strange during the assault on Eschel… small, equine animals with colorful bodies were seen in the vid-relays among the heretic forces, wearing armor and attacking with lasguns just like the traitor filth. And… well… just look at it!” He leaned forward over the strategium table, pointing timidly to Rainbow Dash’s foreleg. “These resemble greaves. But there’s obviously four of them, and there isn’t the usual extended lower armor well for placing a foot. The power armor is shaped as one would expect for a quadruped. As strange as the idea is, it looks like they just encased one of the pony creatures in some kind of blasphemous wargear.”

“It’s FLYING,” another advisor pointed out incredulously.

“Well… yes.” The man looked embarrassed, but didn’t back down. “Men can fly as well, if you strap them into a jump pack.”

“Does this ‘pony theory’ account at all for the monstrous fighter craft that appeared out of nowhere and then never left a wreck site after it was shot down?”

“It… does not, no. There’s nothing about that report that makes sense.”

“ENOUGH!” the governor shouted, pressing a hand to his crown. “The reports say the enemy has hidden in the hive ruins, yes?”

“Yes, Lord Governor. The pursuit team advanced several kilometers into the smuggling tunnels, but-“

“But they found nothing and were unwilling to venture deeper,” the governor finished. “Cowardice. We have the manpower and the tools to clear the hive ruins. We have the technology and the will to purge our ranks of the alien’s poison. Time and time again we are set back by petty sabotage, tiresome diversions, and the weak of heart. But no longer.”

He pointed across the table. “I want the ruins purged entirely. If flamer squads and nerve-shredder gas are inadequate to the task, then we will escalate. No more scouting and no more middling incursions. Plant the Eradicator rad-bomb in the depths. Wipe them out. ALL OF THEM.”

Several of the advisors flinched. One of them raised a crooked finger. “Lord, the rad-bomb would poison the soil for decades, at the least. We-“

“Would lose much of the fine greenery that makes the hive outskirts so pretty and luxurious for my esteemed noble peers, yes,” the governor sneered. “It has not escaped my notice that these xeno wretches and their accursed slaves have been flocking to the plantations and resorts in Ulaisse’s wilds only to vanish without a trace, time and time again! Since my men have proven unable to locate all of the tunnels and smuggling dens being used to evade our patrols, I will simply cleanse them all with atomantic poison. Do I hear any objections?”

“The Techpriests have warned that using the Eradicator would very likely poison the water supplies as well. The subterranean springs run deep,” mentioned one man, wringing his hands.

“Then installing new purifiers shall be our next priority after the elimination of the xeno plague. We have restrained ourselves long enough and only suffered for our lack of conviction. Burn out the ruin, scour the tunnels, and leave any Chaos machinations to rot underground with the alien filth. DISMISSED!!”

Ulaisse capital moon
Underhive complex sigma
Exact geo-coordinates unknown

Gunfire roared through the darkened tunnels, throwing light across the shattered walls with each burst. Ghoulish faces cloaked in bandannas and goggles were illuminated by muzzle flash, only to vanish an eye blink later after impact. Stone debris and barricades made of scrap salvage buckled under the hail of explosive shells, and again and again the front line broke.

The mighty Dreadnought walked forward steadily while its butcher cannon belched fire and steel and its main lumens splashed light over the tunnel ahead. Its bright pink armor helped it stand out substantially within the dimly-lit ruins and as a result it absorbed nearly all the counter-fire, with dozens to hundreds of bullets hammering uselessly against its hardened plate. Energy beams, plasma shots, and bolt rounds all came from behind the assault walker, picking apart the targets that had been left behind by the cannon.

“Hey! HEY! I see a missile launcher in the back! LOOK OUT!” Rainbow Dash shouted, peeking over the walker’s shoulder.

The ignition of the missile briefly lit up a point even deeper in the tunnel, and a krak warhead started rocketing down the passage toward the Contemptor Dreadnought.

A purple screen flashed in front of Pinkie Pie, intercepting the missile barely a foot from the walker’s head. The weapon detonated, instantly collapsing the screen, but left the Dreadnought unscathed. Pinkie paused only for a moment, raising her lumens and cannon toward the source of the missile. Then her main weapon was unleashed again, and the shooter was pulverized against the rockcrete wall.

“They’re approaching from behind again,” announced Serith, glancing over his shoulder. A bullet struck his shoulder pad, bouncing up and punching into the ceiling.

Howling aberrant monstrosities led the charge, swinging pipes and heavy tools within enormous, swollen fists. More cultists flowed into the tunnel behind them, burst fire lashing out from between the muscle-bound mutants. A few cultists, notably more alien in their posture and physiology, followed their larger kin closely while firing stub pistols ahead of them. In their off-hand – both of them – they carried jagged daggers and combat knives scavenged from imperial soldiers.

Serith flung his free hand toward the attackers, and a lightning bolt struck the first aberrant. The mutant howled in agony, tripping onto the ground. The cultist behind it hesitated only a moment as its cover quivered on the ground, and then it felt an invisible force lift it off the ground.

“Such feeble minds,” the psyker taunted, pulling his hand back as if he was yanking on a leash. The hybrid hurtled through the air toward him, and Serith caught the flailing cultist on the blade of his halberd.

Shotgun fire and plasma bolts cut into the next aberrant, and then a purple beam ripped its leg apart. The mutant tumbled onto the ground, a howl gurgling from its misshapen jaws. Serith swung his halberd at it, flinging the hybrid’s corpse at the wounded monstrosity. Then he thrust his weapon up toward the ceiling.

“Come, fools! Rush to your deaths! The alien demands your sacrifice, and I shall slake its thirst!” lightning surged around the halberd, crackling all along the haft and collecting along the blade edge. Autogun slugs cracked against his armor in constant bursts, leaving trails of sparks and chipped ceramite across his body.

Another hybrid reach the Sorcerer, and the halberd swung down. The blade struck with a fantastic thunderclap, and the flash of light briefly illuminated the entire tunnel, blinding most of the combatants on both sides. The cultist disintegrated, his body turning white-hot and then breaking apart into warm dust.

Twilight flinched back from the light, half of her visor display blurring into a senseless wash of color. Her bionic eye adjusted almost instantly, maintaining enough of her vision to see a Purestrain Genestealer drop onto the ground in front of her.

“GYAH!” She recoiled in shock, and one of the alien’s claws swung for her head. Clearly the Genestealer was also disoriented from the flash, however, and its attack went wide. Twilight’s horn discharged a violet blast of power, and the Purestrain was sent flailing back into the gloom.

“Applejack, give us some space back here!” Twilight ordered before hurling another magic bolt into the fallen alien. The Genestealer was blasted aside, but started scrambling to its feet again.

“Comin’ through!” Applejack raced past the humans sheltering behind a pile of rubble, her hoofsteps grinding bits of crumbled rockcrete to powder.

Her tail aimed toward a charging hybrid, and then the gravity lash struck the enemy with a gentle crackle. The cultist stopped immediately, its momentum drained, and with a twitch of her tail the warrior was flung across the tunnel.

The warrior landed safely on his feet, sliding to a stop before the wall of the tunnel. Then a shotgun blast struck him in the chest, knocking him over with a furious shriek.

Autogun slugs bounced uselessly off of Applejack’s shoulders while she advanced, illuminating twisted, snarling faces with each muzzle flash. One shot struck her helmet directly in a visor lens, and the projected glyphs and targeting overlay briefly scrambled into static and random color patterns. The farmer didn’t miss a step and kept trotting forward until another aberrant came charging out of the darkness.

With a wordless shout Applejack triggered her heavy flamer, completely enveloping the mutant hybrid in a river of fire. A heavy pipe slammed clumsily into her cowl, but it merely dented itself before bouncing off and tumbling to the ground. The aberrant staggered away, flailing weakly, and then collapsed while it burned.

The heavy flamer washed over the breadth of the tunnel, rolling over debris and fallen bodies to reach the cultists sheltering in the dark. The hybrids that weren’t torched directly flinched back from the wave of heat, and their positions were fully illuminated by the wall of fire.

“All right, these fellers ain’t goin’ no further!” Applejack’s tail whipped forward, and her gravity lash yanked one enemy gunner off his feet and into the blaze. “Let’s git a move on!”

“Wait! In the tunnel ahead! I see a blasting pit in the ceiling!” Byron Hess shouted to be heard over the gunfire. “It looks like a mining charge placement! This path is rigged!”

“Is it wired or signum-detonated?” Twilight called back while shooting down another hybrid.

“Signum! I don’t see any detonator cabling!”

“Got it!” Twilight galloped to the other end of the group, autogun fire still whipping overhead to strike the Dreadnought at the front. “Pinkie, advance at half speed! Increase suppressive fire!”

“Okie day!” Pinkie chirped, her high-pitched voice booming from the helmet of the Contemptor. The butcher cannon stopped firing, and a series of three clunking noises came from the ammo hopper.

Then the walker stepped forward, its main gun blazing in full auto-fire. The shells sawed back and forth across the width of the tunnel, ripping apart debris and piled junk that were being used as improvised barricades. Several Genestealer cultists were surely pulverized under the barrage, but Twilight’s focus was on the ceiling.

A small hole, barely wider than her leg, was drilled into the rock that made up the ceiling. It would have been very easy to miss, and Twilight had Byron’s experience with explosive traps to thank that it hadn’t been. Her bionic eye pulsed within her visor, conducting an active scan while she stared at it. A square of bright orange appeared over the rock, and then an image of the small, cylinder-shaped bomb was rendered in the same color.

An autogun round struck her helmet, and then another two cracked against her chest. The impacts shook her concentration, and Twilight squeezed her eye shut while focusing on the mining charge. Her horn casing thrummed with power, and a thread of magic wormed its way up into the trap.

“Almost… just… a little-“

Her horn flashed just before a shotgun blast pitched her head to the side, knocking her off-balance. Pinkie Pie stepped forward, dropping the Dreadnought’s power fist onto the ground to cover the young Princess.

“I’m okay! It’s fine! I got it!” Twilight shook her head while she stood up again, hearing the sound of voluminous rifle fire bouncing off of the Dreadnought plating next to her. “Pinkie, why did you stop firing?”

“No more bullets! Sorry!” Pinkie said. An empty clunking noise came from her butcher cannon, demonstrating the problem as it tried and failed to shoot again.

“You don’t have ammunition reserves?” Twilight asked, sounding strangely incredulous.

“I had one box, but that was it. Where would I keep more of them?” boomed the Dreadnought, a stitch of autogun fire cutting across the helmet face.

“Since when does the strict physical volume and mass of objects matter to you? Can’t you just-“

A grenade went off in the rear of the unit, and Dest’s voice roared through the tunnel to be heard over the gunfire. “Sparkle, stop arguing and do something!”

“Right! Sorry!” She jumped out from behind Pinkie’s power fist, and her flight pack engaged. “Dash, Pinkie, on me! Attack!”

“Let’s gooooooo!” Rainbow Dash whooped, zipping over the Dreadnought’s shoulder before the assault walker also lurched forward.

A gurgling scream came from a Genestealer cultist as three shuriken cut into his arm and shoulder. His autorifle tumbled to the ground, landing in a growing blood slick left by the rest of his squad. Corpses practically carpeted the tunnel now, a testament to the desperation of the defense.

A bright purple ray passed overhead, briefly filling the darkened passage with violet light. Another cultist screamed, his autorifle spraying fire into the ceiling before he landed next to the other bodies. A metal cylinder glinted in the light of the energy ray, and the wounded warrior felt a sudden, irresistible impulse seize him.

The cultist threw himself toward the object, his one good hand snatching it off the ground. He didn’t know what the device was, but his fingers closed around it and his thumb depressed the button on one end. A sharp click and a beep issued from the cylinder, and then a tiny green lumen shined through the blood and muck splashed across its casing.

The explosion was deafening, and even flat on the ground the soldier felt the massive pressure wave roll over him. His senses were confused enough that he couldn’t immediately tell what had happened, but after a few seconds passed the man felt a sudden fury fill his thoughts. Frustration, regret, and hatred, soaked with deep concern. Perhaps even… fear?

The alien will that had seized him suddenly vanished, leaving the soldier alone with his own thoughts. Adrenaline and blood loss had taken its toll, but as he gathered his wits the failure of this particular countermeasure became clear. The explosion had come from behind him, on the side opposite the enemy’s advance. Furthermore, there had been no cave-in after the charge had detonated; without being placed in a blasting hole, the explosive had merely ripped up the floor and probably obliterated the remaining Genestealer cultists trying to hold this stretch of tunnel.

A massive metal foot landed next to him, and the cultist rolled over onto his back. The massive pink walker stood over him, rearing back its power fist. He closed his eyes.

“You can’t kill all of us. The venom of the voidborne seeps into every crevice and shadow. In time you too will find the crooked blade of the master in your back.” Despite his injuries the cultist’s voice was strong and clear, and spoken with cold certainty.

Pinkie hesitated, and the power fist didn’t move.

Then another armored body walked up beside her, lacking the mass of the Dreadnought yet hardly any less intimidating for it. The visage of a daemon, eyes aglow and spines protruding every which way, glared down at him.

“We will kill enough of you,” Dest said, stepping forward. “Your master will die, your weapons will break upon our plate, and the rest of your comrades will be rooted out and exterminated like the vermin you are.”

The Iron Warrior fired a single shot from his boltgun, executing the wounded soldier. Then he took a moment searching the smoke-filled gloom ahead. The sounds of combat had stopped, and without the constant din of gunfire the noise that dominated were heavy greaves grinding loose pebbles underfoot.

“We’re clear. The charge seems to have removed the last rank of defenders. Hess, search for further traps.”

“Y-Yes, my Lord!” the refugee stuttered, nervously following Applejack forward into the ravaged tunnel.

“Have the assailants at our rear been dispatched?” Dest demanded.

“They fell back when Lady Sparkle called to advance, no doubt hoping we would be caught in the trap,” Serith mused, strolling leisurely toward the Dreadnought. “I do not expect they will return until we encounter further resistance.”

“Their defense seems desperate and slipshod now. These were even weaker than the earlier ambushes,” Erin Whyd said.

“We’re fortunate they were being deployed against the Imperium’s forces,” Serith mused while Trixie and Suuna rushed by him. “Their numbers are spread far throughout the underhive, no doubt planning ambushes and scouting the tunnels. Many of their best weapons and strongest warriors are directed elsewhere or expended. There is little left to stand between us and the master of these poisoned slaves.”

“There have been a surprising number of Purestrains relative to simple hybrids,” Dest mumbled, stepping through the bodies and scattered carnage on the ground. “I was under the impression the full-blooded xenos were less common among the dregs.”

“Their strategic purpose means they’re often kept back from the front lines and reserved for ambushes or hunting survivors. Only in dire circumstances do they dare to deploy so many of them into open combat,” Serith explained.

“Trixie is flattered they consider us so dangerous,” Trixie mused, “and gratified that the more dangerous aliens are also the ones that can’t use guns.”

“Everyone, hold position!” Twilight shouted suddenly. “Byron found some more traps!” She was hovering a ball of violet light in the air overhead while the explosives expert was very gently sorting through a bundle of wires.

Pinkie Pie stopped her Dreadnought well behind Twilight and beamed her lumen deeper into the tunnel. “Is this path caved in? It looks like a big rock pile is blocking the way.”

“The way forward is deliberately obscured. The debris is not impassible,” Serith assured her. “Once the traps have been disabled, move the rubble and advance. Our prey is close.”

“FINALLY,” said a third Iron Warrior, his voice positively gleeful. “Can I turn into something bigger yet?”

Twilight took a calming breath before she responded. “Please stick to Astartes-sized creatures until we get to a larger space, Chrysalis. I don’t want you trampling anyone.”

“Shouldn’t we have the shape-shifter ranging ahead to join the enemy and sabotage them?” asked Erin. “I feel like there must be a better use for her than a rearguard.”

“I could do that if you want,” Chrysalis agreed, the green tint of her visor pulsing in the gloom. “I think there was a crawlspace above this one. I saw one of those four-armed monsters drop out of it.”

“It won’t work,” Serith said. “The Queen cannot join the xenos’ psychic network. Mimicking appearance and mannerisms of a cultist or Tyranid is enough to fool the Genestealer’s pawns milling about in a faraway labyrinth, but so close to the enemy’s lair the anomaly will be noticed swiftly.”

“Hmph. If I had a few more live subjects, I could probably find a way to disguise that, too,” Chrysalis grumbled. “But this is fine. I’m rather enjoying cutting loose with the Nemesis lock open!”

In a flash of green, one of her arms reformed into a rotary cannon with an ammunition belt running around to her back. Erin took a step back at first, but then shined her lumen directly onto the gun as Chrysalis gave it an experimental spin.

“How do you DO that? Make weapons out of… uh…”

“Magic?” Chrysalis finished, her voice impeccably smug. “My powers are beyond your comprehension, girl. And I prefer they remain that way.”

“She doesn’t understand them either,” Rarity confided with a tired sigh. “The Warsmith plugged that red thing into her chest and gave Twilight a passcode and now Chrysalis can turn into robots or something. None of us have the slightest idea how it works.”

“Would you miserable equines stop telling the humans my secrets?!” Chrysalis complained, swinging around to glare at Rarity. “We can’t trust them!”

“We can’t trust YOU either,” Rainbow Dash retorted.

“That’s not the POINT! You have a countermeasure against me! What are you going to do if we find out these wretches have been secretly giving warning to our target ahead of time?”

“Your grave concern for our operational objectives is noted,” Dest grumbled. “Hess! Hurry up with that trap!”

“I’ve got it, my Lord! We should be clear to proceed!” Byron stood up clumsily, a clutch of severed wires in his hands.

“Serith, the entrance is straight ahead?” Twilight asked. At his nod, she beckoned forward with a hoof. “Pinkie, see if you can dig through it.” Then she turned to Byron again. “That was a melta charge, right? My bionic tagged it before you took it apart.”

“Yes. Hard to come by down here, and very deadly.” Byron grimaced behind his mask. “Could have taken the leg right off the Dreadnought, to say nothing of what it would do to you or me.” He shook his head. “I would have liked to recycle it, but it wasn’t possible. I had to dismantle the fuse.”

The sound of rocks shifting and tumbling across the ground filled the tunnel as Pinkie started shoveling away the blockade with her Dreadnought’s power fist. “Hey, I see the other side! There is another tunnel through here!”

“It won’t be long now,” Serith said, his voice almost reverent. “I can feel it already. The voice in the darkness. It calls to its servants, demands the blood of the intruders, and sings litanies of vengeance and fury through the Warp. Its peons answer… but they are few. And they are fearful.”

“Are they on the other side of this hidden passageway?” Pinkie asked as she pushed aside another boulder.

“I believe so, yes,” the Sorcerer answered. “They know their time is short. The alien’s grip on their minds grows ever tighter and yet their will hangs by a smoldering thread!”

“Do you know what that big gun is that they’re aiming at me?” Pinkie asked, scooping up more rocks. “It’s glowing.”

A low-pitched whine filled the tunnel, and then a beam of hot orange slammed into the leg of the Contemptor Dreadnought. Pinkie yelped as the armor layers melted and buckled, and then she stumbled backward, slamming her heel into Applejack.

“Hey, watch it!” the farmer shouted, jolting backward. The walker started to tilt backward, threatening to fall over onto the heavily armored mare. “PINKIE, NO!! LOOK OUT!!”

Dest bolted past Serith to slam his shoulder into the Dreadnought’s back and help hold it up. Serith calmly observed the damaged leg, staring at the steaming hole in the chassis even while the others started rushing into action around him.

“That was a heavy mining laser,” Serith noted while Twilight teleported away and Rainbow Dash flew overhead. “Not that I could take that detail from their minds at this distance, but the sound of the distributor lenses cycling is quite distinctive.”

“Go kill the operator!” Dest snarled, pushing the Dreadnought upright. A piece of metal popped loose from the damaged leg, and the walker lurched uneasily to the side.

“I’m sure lady Sparkle and the noisy one have everything under control,” the Sorcerer confided.

A tremendous crashing sound came from the adjacent tunnel, followed by an enraged roar.

“WHAT THE HAY IS THAT?!”

“It’s not the Patriarch! Just keep-GYAH!”

“Oh, fine,” Serith sighed as Rarity galloped into the breach. “Remain here in case the vermin attack from behind again. I will resolve this.” The Sorcerer hoisted his force halberd in both hands and advanced into the next tunnel.

The first thing that Serith noticed when he entered the next stretch of the Underhive was the heavy mining laser. It was bolted to a tripod in a defensive emplacement, with crude hardboard barricades around it that were shielded with random junk. A few bodies were draped over the barricade and a portable power cell, all of them badly lacerated with Eldar shuriken.

The second thing he noticed was Twilight Sparkle bouncing across the ground past him, her armor scraping and sparking against the rough stone floor.

The third thing was the enormous mutant Genestealer roaring in anger.

“Ah, I believe the vermin of the cult refer to this creature as a Genestealer Abominant. A sort of particularly radical mutation that favors hyperactive muscular growth. As you’ve probably noticed,” Serith said conversationally.

“STOP TELLING US ABOUT IT AND KILL IT!!” Rainbow Dash screamed, veering back and forth desperately to evade the monster’s enormous fists within the restricted space of the tunnel.

Her wing brushed against the wall, slowing her slightly while she struggled to keep directional control in the air. The hulking giant lunged, and Rainbow boosted out of the way right before a fist nearly as big as she was crashed into the rock behind her. The stone buckled under the impact, leaving a substantial impact crater before the monster tugged its arm free.

The Abominant was nearly twice as big as a Space Marine, with hideously swollen muscles that seemed to pulse with every motion, as if its carapace struggled to contain their power. Three arms bore thick, gnarled fingers, some of which ended in chisel-like fingernails while others turned to long, bladed talons. Its head was almost absurdly small in comparison to its body; a lumpy, melon-sized ball sticking out of a wall of muscle and misshapen chitin. Drool dribbled freely from its twisted mouth, and a single, beady eye twitched back and forth constantly from within folds of overgrown chitin. Large plates of metal stripped from Imperial war machines were bolted, tied, and in places even glued onto its body, creating a suit of crude but serviceable armor. It dragged behind it a broken metal pipe wrenched from the underhive’s aborted sewers; a huge and unwieldy club, yet it seemed perfectly comfortable hauling it with its upper-left hand alone.

“What a pitiful, feeble-minded beast. I’ll tear your thoughts open,” Serith proclaimed, pointing his glaive at the creature.

The Abominant lurched backward, moaning in pain while a hand rose to clutch its head. Its eye twitched back and forth, seeking the cause of its pain, but seemed unable to focus on the Sorcerer. Rainbow Dash zipped around behind it and fired a spread of shuriken into its back, but the mutant seemed not to notice; it quivered and stumbled, a mournful howl coming from its throat.

“Twilight! Are you okay?” Rarity helped push the young Princess upright, her greaves scraping against Twilight’s (somewhat dented) torso plating.

“Y-Yeah… Yes. I’m f-fine,” Twilight said uneasily, finding it difficult to hear anything over the ringing in her ears. “It just k-kicked me. About thirty feet.”

An autogun shot struck Twilight’s wing casing, and the mares quickly whirled around to see a trio of hybrid cultists charging at them with stub pistols and blades. Another bullet slapped against Rarity’ shoulder pad, and then she and Twilight brought their own weapons about in a flash of magic.

“Keep them off of Serith while he finishes off the mutant!” Twilight commanded, cutting down one of the enemies with a magic beam.

The other two closed on Rarity, lunging at the unicorn with their swords in rapid succession. Her power sword spun in a circle, whipping around her head, and parried the first and then the second attack in a flash of blue light. The enemies staggered backward, each blade having lost roughly half its length to the power sword’s disruption field.

A pair of purple energy darts struck one of the soldiers, cutting through the improvised scrap armor and knocking him to the ground. Rarity advanced on the other one, her power sword spinning in graceful, delicate loops. A high-pitched whine came from behind her while she calmly turned away another slash, and the unicorn cleared her throat.

“Twilight, darling, there’s no need to overdo it. Byron seemed worried about cave-ins, so let’s keep the heavy beams in reserve,” she advised before lancing her target through the leg.

Twilight’s horn crackled dangerously with magic power to summon another burst of psychic projectiles, but at Rarity’s warning she hesitated. “That sound isn’t coming from me. What do you-“ then a gasp escaped her helmet. “The mining laser!”

The mares spun around just in time to see the flash of the weapon’s sparking capacitors. A gasping, bleeding cultist was manning the emplacement, one arm swiveling the emitter into place while the other hung limp, riddled with shuriken blades. Twilight shouted and discharged her horn into the gunner, but it was too late.

The laser fired, and a bright orange ray punched through Serith’s outstretched arm. The seals melted before he could even recoil, and the gauntlet tumbled to the ground with molten metal drooling around the elbow. The Abominant surged upright immediately, an enraged snarl escaping its throat. It twitched its eye to focus on Serith, and its fingers tightened around its makeshift club.

“Useless,” the Sorcerer hissed, stepping back and raising his halberd with his remaining arm. “Your will fa-“

The Abominant’s pipe smashed into him mid-sentence, scattering the pieces of power armor like bowling pins. One of the greaves struck Rarity with enough force to knock her to the ground, and Serith’s helmet flew inches past Twilight’s nose before embedding itself in a sandbag.

“I’ll take it down, just keep it off of me for a second!” Twilight shouted, scrambling backward with her force harmonizer quivering in the air.

A moment later she was tackled to the ground, a snarling hybrid stabbing his knife desperately against her back. The blade scraped uselessly against her armor, unable to find a weak spot, but the young Princess completely lost her concentration as she tried to shake her assailant off her.

“Twi?! Aw, ponyfeathers!” Rainbow Dash jolted upward in the air just before the Abominant lunged at her, and then whirled around to shoot another spray of shuriken into its back. The blades sunk into the battered armor plating and over-muscled flesh easily enough, but the enormous mutant swung back around to swipe at the pegasus. Its fingertips barely brushed her leg while she dodged away again, and still the sheer force behind its arm sent Rainbow spinning chaotically down the tunnel.

“Somepony help me with this thing! I’m just making it mad!” Rainbow yelped, her flight taking her into a wild corkscrew while the mutant gave chase. The Abominant roared and seized a chunk of crumbling rockcrete, tearing it straight out of the wall and then pulling its arm back to throw.

A gentle pop came from the ground ahead of it, and a small egg-shaped cartridge emerged from nowhere and arced through the air. The monstrous xenoform hesitated, and then it flinched back as the cartridge exploded in a burst of intense light and ear-piercing sound.

The Abominant reeled backward, slapping its hands over its eye and groaning pathetically. Rainbow Dash got sufficient clearance to stabilize her flight and Rarity shook off the ringing in her ears, but Twilight was still wrestling with the hybrid trying to find a soft spot with its knife.

A shotgun report boomed through the tunnel, and the cultist stopped struggling. The wing of Twilight’s flight pack lifted sharply, throwing the man off of her while blood washed down her flank. The cultist landed in some twisted rubble, but the young Princess dismissed her attacker and focused on the force harmonizer again. Erin fired another shot into the cultist to ensure it would not be getting up again, and then swung her weapon around to face the more obvious threat.

“Okay, everyone follow my fire!” Twilight shouted, bracing her legs while a swirling shroud of violet washed around the enigmatic weapon. “Aim for-“

“Well aren’t YOU a big one?” Chrysalis sang, galloping into the passage while murky green power surged around her. “Let’s play!”

“What?! Chrysalis! Stop!” Twilight complained, holding the harmonizer back as the changeling’s body swelled and obstructed her line of fire.

The Abominant peeked out from between its fingers, and its sight had recovered just enough to see an enormous fist arcing for it. The mutant turned sharply, lashing out with its third arm, and the two punches struck each other with an almost explosive crash. The hybrid monstrosity staggered backward, an angry moan building in its throat.

Motes of green light peeled away from a segmented shell of hardened ceramite and bladed metal fins. Chrysalis stood before the Abominant in her Maulerfiend body, very nearly filling the tunnel from wall to wall with her bulk. Her long tail of bundled cables and wires swayed back and forth, accidentally sweeping several pieces of Serith into the wall. Rarity and Erin scrambled away as the Changeling Queen reared up, unable to get a clear shot and reasonably worried about getting squashed in a sudden melee.

“What kind of monster is this?” Chrysalis taunted as she threw another punch. The Abominant blocked it and stumbled backward, a stuttering snarl coming from its throat. “Nothing but confused fear and anger and so much pain! Killing you would be a mercy!”

She slammed her massive fists together, knuckles-first, and arcs of bright green energy crackled between the fingers. The Abominant groaned pitifully in response, its single eye darting back and forth. Twilight growled in frustration and kicked Serith’s shoulder pad toward his greaves.

“Rarity! Dash! Help me find Serith’s parts and gather them together!” the other mares jumped into action, and she turned her head to Erin. “Miss Whyd, do you know how to use a heavy mining laser?”

A shrieking laugh came from Chrysalis as she slowly advanced on the Abominant. The power fields on the Maulerfiend’s enormous fists crackled against the dirt, and dusty smog puffed gently from the rows of smokestacks on her back. A chain-like metal tongue flicked from the war machine’s steel jaws, sliding over her teeth in a grim, mechanical mockery of a hungering predator.

The mutant lashed out, suddenly swinging for the Maulerfiend’s head. Chrysalis threw up one arm to protect herself, seizing the twisted claw mid-swing. She was surprised by the sheer power behind the attack, and the servos in her wrist and elbow squealed sharply while she pushed back. Nonetheless, the mechanical beast won the contest of raw strength, and the Abominant’s bones and chitin cracked under the pressure.

Chrysalis seized another arm with her remaining hand, pinning the cult monster in place. Her magma cutters, a pair of melta torches on articulated servo arms, unfolded and stabbed toward her prey, burning into the thickened muscle and iron-hard bone.

The Abominant, however, had three arms, not two.

Roaring in agony, the mutant’s free hand lashed out and grabbed one of the magma cutters by the arm. The metal squealed in protest for but a moment before the hinge was torn apart completely, and Chrysalis flinched in surprise. She didn’t manage to react further before the Abominant shoved the sputtering tip of the torch into the side of her head.

The magma cutter had started disintegrating into green mist the moment it was removed from the rest of the changeling’s body, but there was still a tremendous amount of energy being carried by the nozzle. The heat sliced into the outer layers of the Maulerfiend’s head, and Chrysalis shrieked as pain surged through her transformed body. She recoiled, shoving the Abominant away, but before her hands even touched the ground she was completely consumed by green light.

The body burst apart into sparks of glittering green, which themselves quickly vanished into the gloom. Chrysalis staggered backward, her legs quivering weakly and a steaming scar on the side of her head. The Abominant snarled, rearing back its remaining good arm to dash her across the rocks.

“FIRE!”

At Twilight’s command, a bright orange beam shot over Chrysalis’s head and bored into the Abominant’s belly. A purple ray slashed across its chest at nearly the same time, knocking it back far enough to throw off its balance and spoil the punch. A bolt round hammered its forehead, splitting open the thickened flesh over its skull, and then a plasma shot burned into its shoulder.

Chrysalis scrambled backwards, her head low and her ears pinned back while a furious barrage sliced past her. The Abominant lurched backward, a whimpering groan escaping its throat while its body was ravaged by projectiles. A line of shuriken cut across the side of its head. Laspistol shots sizzled against its leg. A swirling purple arrow stabbed into its shoulder before bursting into sparks.

The muscle-bound giant died not with a howl, but a tired gasp. Its legs gave out and it slumped to the ground, smoke curling around its mass and blood pooling around the rubble beneath it. The single eye in its head paled, blinked, and then finally closed.

“Life signs negative! It’s down! We’re clear!” Twilight announced, heaving a deep breath from behind her helmet. She turned around and looked up at Dest. “How is Pinkie?”

“We stabilized the walker, but it suffered critical damage to a leg assembly. It cannot move at a viable combat speed until repaired, and its primary cannon has no more ammunition,” Dest admitted, looking toward the breached tunnel wall. The Contemptor Dreadnought stood on the other side of the opening, and it lifted its power fist and waved sheepishly. “As an aside, I realize that we were not expecting many combat engagements when organizing this mission, but it was a grievous error to deploy without Mechanicus support.”

“I agree. Sorry about that.” Twilight turned her head the other way. “Serith, are you okay?”

“I am not,” the Sorcerer spat. He had only managed to assemble one of his legs so far, and his upper torso was sitting on the ground next to it, only one arm attached. Rarity had the psyker’s helmet on her back, and it fumed angrily while she searched the tunnel for more parts. “I’ve suffered severe damage to several armor seals, and my left arm is functionally disabled. I will not be able to use the psykant occulus.”

“Is that important?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Of course it’s important, you insolent beast,” Serith snapped. “The Patriarch is a psyker of deadly ability. Without being able to nullify its abilities, and without the assault walker for a vanguard, the xeno poses a serious threat to us! This is no longer the simple hunt Lady Sparkle imagined.”

Twilight chewed that over for a few seconds, and then finally turned to face Chrysalis. The Changeling Queen flinched, her teeth clenched as if she was expecting a blow. There was still a gouge on one side of her face, although that wound seemed to be filling up; very slowly, to be sure, but still enough to be visible to any given bystander.

So close… I can feel it… its rage… its hatred… its… fear… whispered a voice from the shadows only Twilight could hear. KILL IT

“Chrysalis, are you okay?” Twilight asked.

Chrysalis hesitated. “I… I’ll be fine. The wound will not slow me any further.”

“Do you feel well enough to join the attack on the Patriarch?”

Chrysalis blinked. “Yes. That will not be a problem.”

“Good.” Twilight saw that Suuna and Trixie were cautiously entering the tunnel, and she turned up the volume on her vox. “This is the last stretch before we meet the Patriarch, and some of us aren’t in any shape to fight, so this is what we’re going to do: Pinkie, you’re going to hold here. Suuna, Trixie, Byron, and Dest will stay with you and help reassemble Serith. The rest of Equinought Squadron, plus Erin and Chrysalis, will come with me to neutralize the Patriarch.”

“I should accompany your team,” Dest protested immediately.

“I’d really like that, but I expect more cultists to return here to try to help our target. I need you to intercept them and protect everyone here,” Twilight explained.

“Can’t we just LEAVE?” Trixie grunted while trying to jam a knee socket onto one of Serith’s greaves. “We did our best, they put up a decent fight, and now it’s just not worth the risk! Who cares?”

“We can’t just leave, no,” Twilight replied curtly. “We’d be slowed and vulnerable on our way out, and the cult would have plenty of time to regroup and corner us. We have them off-balance and we’ve crushed every desperate defense they threw at us. The time to finish the job is now.”

Erin kicked over the mining laser and fed a shell into her shotgun. “Then let’s kill ourselves a messiah.”

Applejack snorted and rushed ahead down the tunnel, and Rainbow Dash whooped enthusiastically before flying over her. Rarity reached out to empty air, and Fluttershy shimmered into the visible spectrum. She gave the pegasus a comforting pat, and then they headed after the others.

“Keep a link to my armor so that you’ll know if I… well, if I don’t make it,” Twilight said solemnly, turning around.

“Try to say something over the vox if you become disabled or immobilized without being killed immediately,” Dest warned her. “Death isn’t the worst fate these creatures can inflict, and we’d appreciate some warning.”

Twilight seemed to squirm inside her armor for a moment, and then nodded. “Right… Erin, Chrysalis, let’s go.”

“Bye girls! Sorry I can’t destroy the head bad guy easily for you!” Pinkie called, limping her way through the passage linking the two tunnels. The Contemptor’s right leg was set rigidly in place, several of its pieces melted and fused together. The foot scraped against the ground while it was dragged forward with each step, digging a furrow through the rubble.

“Don’t take too long! This place stinks and Trixie hasn’t forgotten that the daemon Astartes was going to kill her for no reason!” Trixie demanded.

“It was NOT for no reason. I explained my reason very clearly,” Dest retorted. “Furthermore, I still want to know why the Sorcerer apparently wounded you.”

“As long as we’re on the topic of Lord Serith, can we go over why he seems to be an empty suit of armor?” Byron asked hesitantly.

“No,” Serith replied curtly, levitating his helmet over his armor’s torso piece. It settled down into the gorget, and then dropped sharply to one side. A groan issued from the psyker’s vox grille.

“Keep alert, ladies. This is the final stretch before the lair, but there could still be traps. Tripwires, loose rocks, proximity mines, or another ambush. Scanners on.”

Twilight suited action to words, her bionic eye fixed on the ground ahead of her. A green vector swept from one side of her visor to the other, picking out details and searching for hidden anomalies. Applejack was at her side, the farmer’s armor casting a wide beam of light down the tunnel ahead.

The path was narrow and twisted back and forth constantly such that it was never possible to see more than twenty feet ahead. It was also damp, with a trail of wet footprints that all ran together into long streaks against the stone. Other than the trail of moisture the path was almost suspiciously clean, with no scattered debris or large deformations in the terrain.

“Rainbow, when we make contact I want you mobile. Try and get behind the target and take any shot you can get, but your job is to stay alive and divide the target’s attention. Applejack, I want you on the lookout for alternative threats; if reinforcements start pouring in or you find some trap, block the area with fire. Rarity, stick with me and try to keep your sword ready; you’re much better at close combat than I am. Fluttershy, stay quiet, stay invisible, and wait for your moment. Erin, unload as much ammunition as you can as quickly as you can, but stay behind me. I can resist its psychic powers.”

“What should I do?” Chrysalis asked.

Twilight twisted her head to face the changeling, and Chrysalis spent a few seconds peering into the mismatched lenses of the helmet visor in silence.

“Well, if you feel like following orders this time around, I’d like you to break off from the rest of us and try to flank the Patriarch. It depends in part on the size of the room, though,” Twilight said evenly. “What you should absolutely NOT do is take a body that fills so much of the available space that we can’t get a shot and have to scurry around to keep from being stepped on.”

“Also, you’ve really gotta stop doing the thing where you’re kicking butt and laughing about it and then the enemy counter-attacks and takes you down instantly,” Rainbow Dash advised, shifting to hover over the changeling. “Seriously, it’s getting old, and we’re the ones that need to cover you afterward.”

Chrysalis craned her head to the side so she could glare at Rainbow out of her augmented eye. “… I’ll see what I can do,” she drawled.

“Good! Then I think we have our battle plan,” Twilight announced while she and Applejack turned the next corner. “And here is our destination.”

A small, metal door barred their path, worn but in much better repair than the other such barriers they had found throughout the underhive. Twilight walked up to it, and her horn started to glow. Then she stopped, thinking better of it.

“Applejack?” the Princess asked, stepping back.

A snort came from the helmet and Applejack walked up to the door. Then she swung around to face away from it.

“Knock knock,” she drawled, right before bucking the barrier off its hinges.

The dented hunk of metal flew through the air, scraped across the rockcrete ground, and then dropped into a pool of fluid. Applejack turned back around, and then she and Twilight walked into the heart of the Genestealer cult.

The room was on the large side, about the size of a house but without any interior walls dividing it into separate rooms. Many large pipes ran from floor to ceiling in the room; some had spouts, diversion pipes, or regulators built into the sides, but others seemed to run through the space uninterrupted. Most unusual, however, were the several holes that had been dug into the rockcrete and scattered among the lair. These holes had been filled up with fluid to form pools, but the liquids filling them were a murky, disgusting ooze. Filth was splashed around the rim, and some of them actively frothed and bubbled as if something was moving within them.

There was only one individual immediately visible in the room. A bent-backed old man stood in the middle of the space, leaning on a tall cane that had the strange coiled wyrm emblem crafted from beaten copper and set on top. He was surprisingly well-clothed, wearing clean, well-stitched robes that wouldn’t have been out of place in a noble’s villa. He was also apparently unarmed.

“And so you have come after all,” the man said, pressing his lips into a thin line. “An error tilting toward catastrophe. But it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Is this the Patriarch?” Chrysalis asked while the others entered the lair behind their vanguard.

“No, it’s not,” Twilight replied. “Who are you, and what ‘error’ are you referring to?”

“That’s Lord Johan,” Erin answered before the old man could. “He’s a long-time benefactor to us underhive scum. Brings us food and taught many of us important survival techniques. And is an infected cultist, apparently.”

“Miss Whyd, how did you come to turn against your kin so easily?” Johan asked, his face contorting in sorrow. “Do you-“

A shotgun blast cut off his question, and the old man howled as the shot cut into his leg and hip. He was thrown to the ground in pain, and several of the mares flinched in surprise.

“Silence, Lord Johan. I’m not here for snacks or scavenging tips.” She took a quick glance around the room, and then returned her aim to the gasping cultist. “Where is the Patriarch?”

The old man sputtered angrily on the ground, quivering in pain and fury while he bled. “You think you can cast us aside? You think you can lay low the Gods from the stars? You think-“

Again the shotgun fired, and this time the man was silenced for good.

“I… I feel like we could have handled that better,” Twilight mumbled. “You should let me do the negotiation from now on.”

“We’re here to kill a monster, not parley with its lickspittles,” the deserter retorted, her voice on edge. “So is the Patriarch here, or did it flee already?”

“Ah don’t see nothin’, but this place's got a few hidin’ spots,” Applejack advised.

“… It’s here,” Chrysalis said, her eyes darting between the pools.

“You can see it? Or… smell it? Or what?” Rainbow asked.

“I can taste it,” Chrysalis corrected. “Its mind… is all over this place. Filling it up, like one of those mechanical engines vomiting smoke into the air as it works.” Her tongue slipped out from between her lips and flicked at the air like a snake. “It’s very strange. I don’t understand some of its emotions. But it’s… upset.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Twilight grumbled. “Can you tell where it is?”

Chrysalis smacked her lips, her eyes staring off into nowhere for several seconds. Then her gaze snapped onto one of the bubbling pools of ooze. “There!”

As if in response to her shout, a large hand bearing long, blade-like talons emerged from the surface, gripping the pool’s edge. A shotgun blast struck it immediately, but it barely twitched as the shot scraped against the hard chitin protecting the limb. Another claw grabbed onto the edge, and the middle of the pool started to swell and rise.

“Rainbow, you know what to do!” Twilight shouted while magic started flowing to the force harmonizer.

The Patriarch broke the surface of the pool, emerging fully from its resting place. Dark red armor plates of hardened chitin protected an ivory body that the pirates immediately identified as a Genestealer. It was much larger than the typical specimen, of course, with much longer claws, a long, fully developed tail, and a head that had swollen to outrageous proportions. Shimmering yellow eyes glared across the room at the intruders, and those who met its gaze directly felt their stomach lurch and their vision swim.

Rainbow Dash was not one of them, as she blasted over the alien’s shoulder at high speed.

The Patriarch whirled, lashing out with a claw, but even its speed and reflexes weren’t fast enough to catch the pegasus. Rainbow hit her impulse blasters after she was clear, curving sharply to the side and barely turning in time to avoid the wall. The Patriarch turned as if to give chase, but hesitated. A critical moment of indecision at a most unfortunate time.

Shrieking blasts of energy mixed with the sound of a shotgun discharge, and the Patriarch was bombarded on its flank. A purple ray slashed across its arms, heavy shot cut into the side of its head, and a ball of plasma burned into its thigh. A howl of pain and anger erupted from the Patriarch’s throat, and the attackers were suddenly struck by intense, inexplicable headaches and blurred vision.

The Patriarch surged forward but stumbled; the plasma wound had burned through critical nerve and muscle tissue, crippling its movement. A spread of shuriken cut into its back as Dash pass behind it, and the alien snarled and hopped aside on its good leg. This placed one of the large pipes between it and most of the attackers, allowing it to focus on the airborne enemy.

“Keep… Keep the pressure… up!” Twilight forced the words through her throat as the disorientation passed and her vision became clear. Her horn casing flashed, and targeting brackets floated across her visor to pinpoint the enemy.

Something pulled hard on her wing, and Twilight stumbled backward a few inches. “Not now, Erin! Keep shooting!”

“What? Not now for what?” asked the refugee, scrubbing her forehead with her free hand and standing at least a meter out of reach of the Princess.

Twilight glanced behind her, and a panicked shriek came from her helmet grille. A slimy, writhing tentacle was wrapped around her wing, extending back to the nearest pool of unidentified goop. A creature was emerging there: something twisted and emaciated that may have been human at some point. One arm was the tendril that had seized the young alicorn, but the other arm boasted fingers and serrated talons instead. Thick, foul slime dribbled from those claws as they reached for the mare, and a head draped in ooze released a stomach-churning groan.

That groan turned to a pained wail as Applejack stomped on its clawed arm, crushing the limb against the ground.

“Twi, keep yer eye on the big feller! I got these little varmints!” Applejack declared, kicking the mutant back into its pool. Another body started to rise next to it, but rather than waiting for it to emerge the farmer turned on her flamer, blanketing the strange fluid in fire.

“Back! BACK, you repulsive beasts!” screamed Rarity, slicing the arm off another such creature with her power sword. Chrysalis was behind her, having turned into a Terminator-armored hulk that was pouring fire into the other pools like Applejack was.

More shambling mutants were emerging from the goo, but Twilight quickly guessed it was mainly a diversion. The slime-covered beasts didn’t move with the aggression or agility that the other cult-warriors did, and their weaponized limbs were undoubtedly much less dangerous than those of the massive Genestealer.

A feral, alien howl erupted from the far end of the room, followed by a scream of fear and confusion. Rainbow Dash was flailing painfully in midair, her flight pack throwing her back and forth seemingly at random. The Patriarch leered at her from where it was sheltering behind cover, its eyes blazing with psychic energy.

“Erin, come on!” Twilight shouted, charging straight for the alien. A purple lance of magic erupted from her horn, slicing across the pipe and cutting deeply into the Patriarch’s arm. It flinched, breaking its efforts to unmake Rainbow Dash’s mind, and water started to dribble out of the ruptured pipe. The pegasus sputtered in the air, a gasp of relief coming from her helmet, and then she dropped limply onto the ground.

Erin fired her shotgun over Twilight as the young Princess ran, but the gun seemed useless against the Patriarch’s shell. Scrapshard razors scraped against reinforced chitin, but the ascended Genestealer ignored it and shifted its weight onto its good leg.

The Patriarch leapt, its one leg propelling it nearly halfway across the room. One arm extended, and a pair of talons cut across Twilight’s shoulder pad. The claws sliced through the outer ceramite shielding with frightening ease, ripping across the armor and cutting into the superstructure frame of her arm. Twilight was thrown to the ground from the force of the blow, and a streak of red splashed across the ground under her. The Patriarch landed on its hands and good leg, and then pushed itself upright again.

Another shotgun blast struck the side of its head, and the Patriarch turned its glowing eyes to the only human in the room. Hatred pulsed within its gaze, as if malice itself had taken on an energetic form and bled from its pupils. Erin Whyd looked into the alien’s eyes and she felt her senses start to unravel; colors started swirling together in a useless blur, and noises from the surrounding combat sounded distant and hollow.

Erin pulled the trigger again, presumably firing her weapon in the same direction as before. She couldn’t tell if it even discharged this time; the nerves in her hands had gone numb as well.

Then a photon grenade exploded between her and the Patriarch, and the color swirls were drowned out by pure white.

The alien flinched away from the blast, its eyes losing their eldritch glow. Fluttershy squeaked and re-engaged her cloaking field, but she could feel the psychic pressure building already now that she had been noticed. It was an intense, distracting roar, like rushing water, that filled her mind and threatened to drown it.

A purple beam slammed into the side of the creature, ripping through the outer carapace and forcing the Patriarch onto its injured leg.

“Keep fighting!” Twilight shouted, blood dribbling from her torn leg casing. “Don’t give it an opening!” Her horn unleashed a volley of magic missiles, and the projectiles swirled chaotically through the air before curving sharply to strike their target.

The Patriarch leapt, bounding off its good leg toward the young Princess. Twilight didn’t have time to teleport. She couldn’t dodge quickly enough with her own leg injury. Her flight pack was already active, but didn’t have the necessary acceleration. The Patriarch’s talons descended, aimed to split the pony straight through the forehead.

A power maul crashed into the alien’s side mid-leap, striking the Patriarch with a sizzling green flash. The not-inconsiderable mass of the alien was flung hard onto the ground, and it rolled across the rockcrete before slamming into a pipe. Twilight stumbled backward from the impact, physically pushed aside by the shock wave and mentally shaken by the close call.

Chrysalis ran by the wounded pony, a triumphant snarl coming from her vox grille. Emerald-colored energy lashed across the surface of her armor and trailed similarly colored sparks behind her heavy footsteps. The power mace in her hands was absurdly embellished even for a Chaos weapon, boasting a massive skull for a head with an eight-pointed crown that formed an octahedron of spikes pointing outward. Fumes leaked from the eye sockets and open jaw of the weapon, and Twilight could swear the ground started to shake as Chrysalis raised the maul for another two-handed swing.

The Patriarch shoved off the ground with two of its arms, bounding to the side with shocking speed. Chrysalis struck the pipe behind it, and the waterway ruptured. Dirty water gushed over the changeling, shorting out the power weapon’s disruption field in short order but otherwise having little effect. The Patriarch stood up and Chrysalis turned to meet it with a quicker swing.

This time the alien attacked to meet it directly, smashing the weapon aside. Without its power field the Patriarch’s talons proved able to parry the mace, leaving the shape-shifter open. The Patriarch’s eyes pulsed, and the visor of the terminator armor pulsed back.

Chrysalis snarled angrily as her magic tried to fight off the psychic assault, and a web of arcing whips of power lashed between them even as the alien infiltrator made its next attack. A claw went for the queen’s helmet, but she shielded her face with her arm. The talons cut deep gouges into the vambrace, but Chrysalis pushed them back and then seized that arm by the wrist. Another claw was rearing back to impale her throat, but this one was suddenly struck by a plasma shot, and the limb was seared through the elbow at a critical moment.

Something impaled Chrysalis through the leg, and she felt a shudder of agony ripple through her body. The Patriarch was a veritable mess of bladed limbs, and its tail had snuck inside her guard and pierced her thigh plating with its stinger. She struggled to keep her focus as the Genestealer Patriarch pushed her back; Space Marine armor and muscle was the only thing keeping this monster from tearing her apart in an instant, and she couldn’t let her concentration lapse.

A shotgun blast struck the Patriarch, and then another plasma shot burned into its torso. The light in its eyes flickered, fighting its own battle of wills. The alien’s secondary limbs clawed at Chrysalis’s breastplate, leaving deep tracks in the outer ceramite layers. The ground continued to shake and water pooled around them, but this was hardly noticeable among the intensity of their struggle.

Then the force harmonizer punched its psykant blade into the side of the Patriarch’s head.

The alien’s psychic assault faltered immediately, which was a tremendous relief to Chrysalis. Then a power sword sliced through one of its primary arms, relieving most of the physical burden as well. Chrysalis tossed away the disembodied claws she had been holding back, and then hammered a fist into the gasping face of the Patriarch, throwing it back to the ground.

The alien quivered, broken, bleeding, and burnt from a dozen severe wounds. Chrysalis ripped the tail stinger from her leg and then pulled sharply, yanking her opponent closer so that it was on the ground immediately in front of her.

“I’ve tasted enough of your pain. Your empty black soul curdles my appetite,” she snarled, lifting her boot over the alien. “Now PERISH.”

Her greaves landed upon the Patriarch’s head with a sound akin to rock cracking apart. A final spasm shook the alien’s body, barely detectable among the slight tremor that still shook the ground.

“That’s… That’s it. We did it! We killed it!” Twilight gasped, her heart still racing and her leg still in quite a bit of pain. Then she lifted her head and barked “Status report!”

“All the other critters in them pools’re dead,” Applejack offered. “They were a bit more, um, flammable than Ah expected, so we should probably skeddadle quick-like ‘fore this room heats up too much.”

“I think Dash is okay,” Fluttershy piped up. She was sitting next to the other pegasus and had a boot placed on Rainbow’s shoulder pad.

“I don’t FEEL okay,” Rainbow Dash groaned. “It’s like someone unplugged my brain and jumbled it all up before putting it back! I didn’t know headaches this bad were possible!”

“Well, you have a telepath psyker with you, right?” Erin asked. “Can he fix it?”

Rainbow yelped and stood up fully, spreading her flight pack. “Never mind! I’m good! Brain’s better! Everything’s fine now!”

Chrysalis sighed contentedly as she returned to her true body, the Astartes armor and weaponry vanishing in a puff of green sparks. “Say, I was busy fighting at the time it started so I barely noticed, but should we be concerned about this earthquake?”

The ground was still trembling, albeit not enough to cause any serious damage to the room or its occupants. Occasionally bits of rock and dirt would shake loose from the ceiling, but Twilight saw nothing that might indicate a greater cave-in. She was about to voice that opinion when her horn suddenly crackled and a burst of violet energy materialized without conscious effort.

“Oh! A message from the fleet!” Twilight recognized the magic immediately, and caught the scroll with her levitation before it could drop into the murky water below. “Come on, let’s get out of here! We need to meet up with the others!”

Her flight pack lifted her off the ground to spare her injured leg, and she headed for the exit. The other ponies followed, while Erin and Chrysalis waited until Fluttershy had recloaked and trotted ahead of them. Her path through the pooled water made a series of disembodied splashes across the room, which were all the more noticeable when the tremors finally stopped.

“Huh, the earthquake is over,” Chrysalis mumbled as she followed into the tunnels. “I guess it wasn’t a problem after all.”

“It wasn’t a quake,” Erin replied.

“What? How do you know?”

“There are no earthquakes on Ulaisse,” Erin explained. “This moon has no tectonic activity. Its crust is completely stable.”

The others stopped and looked back at the deserter.

“Sorry, I was going to mention that earlier when you asked about it but then your, uh, witchcraft happened,” Erin explained. “Any tremors on this world are caused by detonations or mole rigs. That one felt like a mole rig.”

“What’s a mole rig?” Applejack asked. “That don’t sound too scary.”

“It’s a machine used to burrow at high speed. The rig isn’t very scary. What it’s carrying usually is, though.”

The armored ponies heard a crackle in their ear, and then Dest’s voice came in over the vox.

“Equinought Squadron, come in. Have you slain the target?”

“Yes! We did!” Twilight replied brightly. “We’re on our way back now! I’m a little banged up, so we’re going to take a break so Fluttershy can treat my arm. Unless you need help?”

“Negative. We were attacked by another group of cultists while you engaged the Patriarch,” Dest explained, “however, something happened and their tactical behavior changed. Lord Serith believed the cultists’ psychic network has been decapitated. While that doesn’t cure the infected, it did impact their immediate cohesion and morale. The survivors have fled.”

“Great! Is everyone okay?” Twilight asked.

“Affirmative. However, Hess seems to be… upset.”

“What’s wrong with Byron? Was it that tremor? Erin says it was something called a ‘mole rig,’ not an earthquake,” Twilight explained.

“Whyd is correct. You’re going to want to see this, Sparkle.”

“Okay! We’re here! What’s the problem?” Twilight was moving more naturally now with her wound sealed and a numbing agent dulling the pain in her shoulder. The armor still bore the rather serious breach painted with dried blood, but the injury was no longer hindering. Chrysalis was at her side, while Erin and the other armored ponies followed behind.

“ERADICATOR!!” Byron bellowed. “We’re all going to die!”

“That is the gist of it, yes,” Serith sighed.

The Iron Warriors were currently flanking Byron Hess, who seemed to be hyperventilating in the middle of the hallway. Trixie was seated off to the side next to a pile of scavenged autoguns and a pool of bullet casings, while Suuna stood behind her. Suuna had the mysterious artifact under one arm, while her other hand scratched Trixie behind her ears. Pinkie Pie stood next to the entrance to the tunnel where they had come from, the pink armor of her Dreadnought now sporting a lot more black scoring than Twilight remembered.

“Well whatever that is, we can leave it behind,” Rarity said. She was levitating the scroll that Twilight had received and was holding it open triumphantly. “Our evacuation vehicle is in orbit and ready to collect us! We need only reach the surface and then transmit our geo-coordinates via magic!”

“I’m not sure we have that much time,” Dest confessed.

“What? Why? What’s an Eradicator?” Erin asked, revealing that it was apparently not common knowledge among human soldiers.

“See for yourself,” Trixie said, jabbing an armored hoof toward the hole next to Pinkie Pie.

Twilight raced over to do so, beaming a spread of bright light ahead of her to illuminate the way. The path they had left behind had been littered with debris from makeshift barricades and the bodies of the overrun defenders, and that route had been broken by a large pit carved through the surrounding stone and rockcrete. The mole rig, a massive series of drill bits topping a long metal frame, rested in the pit at a downward angle. Bolted into the cage was a large metal cylinder. It was not obvious at a glance what the object was; the outer plating was mostly bare sheet metal with several hinged panels and obvious seams, and there was a large yellow trifoil emblem stamped near the end. The twin-headed eagle, the Imperium’s most conspicuous symbol, was pressed into the top above it. Twilight was initially worried it was another gas dispenser vessel, but it looked very different from the vat she saw before and had no apparent nozzles or valves.

“Did they just shoot this thing straight down through the ground? And nearly landed right on top of the enemy lair? Why didn’t they do that to begin with?” Rainbow Dash asked while the other Equinoughts stepped up next to Twilight.

“Well, ah reckon it kinda depends what this gizmo is,” Applejack admitted. “What’s it gonna do, and how close does it need to be to the varmints to do it?”

Twilight narrowed her eye as her bionic scanned the object, placing data tags at key points on the casing. “This is a Stygies-pattern Eradicator rad-bomb.”

Rarity was alerted immediately. “Rad-bomb?! Isn’t that the particle contaminant that Miss Gaela keeps saying will ruin my mane?!”

“It’s going to do more than ruin your mane, it’s going to KILL US!!” Byron approached from behind the ponies, ripping the mask and respirator off his face. The others were with him, and Dest was helping Pinkie’s Dreadnought limp through the exit to follow.

“Shouldn’t we be leaving, then?” Fluttershy asked, alarmed.

“There’s nowhere to go! You don’t understand!” Byron shouted. “When this device detonates, it will spread an utterly lethal, multi-spectral array of rad particles over 20 kilometers in every direction! The pulse will pass through the massed soil and rockcrete walls with ease! There’s nowhere to hide! It will wipe us all out! No armor or barricade can protect us!”

Twilight frowned at the device, and then looked up. The mole rig had tunneled in at a nearly 45-degree angle to the ground, and there were still bits of rock and dirt tumbling down into the pit it had made. She couldn’t see any light in the tunnel this far underground, but surely the Imperial forces had deployed the machine from the surface.

“Byron, correct me if I’m wrong, but if this weapon is so deadly then they would have abandoned the deployment site after launching the rig, right?” Twilight asked.

“Yes… Yes, definitely,” Byron replied, trying to swallow his rising panic. “Mole rigs don’t have the range to carry the bomb outside its kill radius. They would have set it up, turned it on, and then retreated immediately. Why?”

“This tunnel probably goes straight to the surface!” Twilight exclaimed. “And it’s not even that steep! Pinkie will need help, but otherwise this is a perfect way out!”

“The rigs are usually deployed to dig at an angle, which reduces the damage from loose debris falling on top of it and allows a more measured pace of descent,” Dest explained, “so yes, this is likely a viable exit. How quickly can the exfiltration vessel rendezvous with us?”

“Solon’s estimate says twenty minutes,” Rarity announced.

“So how long do we got until the big bang?” Applejack asked.

Twilight again fixed her bionic eye on the Eradicator bomb. “Identifying counter… just a moment…” A number flashed in front of her, and Twilight’s heart leapt into her throat. “Three hundred and eighty-nine!”

“We can make it topside in that amount of time!” Rainbow Dash said. “What’re we waiting for?! Let’s ditch this creepy hole!”

“… Seconds. Three hundred and eighty-two seconds,” Twilight said grimly.

“Oh. Uh…” Rainbow Dash gulped. “Well, I could probably still make that time…”

“All right, look: we’re either disabling the bomb or we’re dead, right?” Chrysalis announced angrily. “So let’s break it!”

“I can’t deactivate it! It doesn’t have a complex data engine!” Twilight said, her voice rising with her panic. “I have no way to input an override codex!”

“Then I shall unmake the detonator,” Serith announced, leaning his force halberd against the wall.

“There are multiple detonators!” Byron said, scrubbing at his head with his hand. “There are three separate accelerator cores that are each triggered by a proton beamer to generate a simultaneous rad-pulse! Destroy one and the others trigger the failsafe!”

“But the explosion would be less powerful then, right?” Trixie asked.

“Yes! It would probably reduce the range of the lethal effect by half! Very fortunate for the cultists and refugees skulking about on the perimeter of the underhive, but hardly useful to us!”

“Can YOU disarm it?” Rarity asked. “You seem to know a great deal about it.”

“With WHAT? A combat knife and a shotgun?!” A choking sob came from the deserter’s throat, and he slumped to the ground once more.

“Again, we find ourselves at a loss without a Techpriest,” Dest growled.

A green flash came from behind him. When Dest turned around, he was looking into the masked face of Dark Techpriest Gaela. A green pulse came from the optics cluster in the visor, and the armored figure shrugged her shoulders.

“I won’t be giving any prayers to machines or gods,” Chrysalis admitted while servo arms unfolded to present an array of welders, torches, drills, and claws, “but if you need tools, I can provide those.”

“Byron, get up!” Twilight shouted. “We don’t have much time!”

Byron Hess blinked and wiped at his face briefly, and then looked up at Chrysalis. “… Do you even know how to use any of those things?”

“No,” Chrysalis said honestly. As if in response, a laser welder on a secondary servo arm suddenly turned on, scoring Dest’s chest plate. She swatted the offending limb to turn it off, and then cleared her throat. “I’m pretty sure we’re out of options though, unless you know of any daemon engines that are immune to this ‘rad’ thing it uses to kill.”

“Unfortunately the more exotic particulate emissions will also overload non-biological power cells and scour daemonflesh with their intensity, so I believe our chances – unfortunately – rely entirely on you, mortal.” Serith shook his head sadly, and then held out an upraised palm.

Byron seized up, and then awkwardly lifted himself up to his feet as if someone were pulling on his shirt collar.

“Get to work,” Serith commanded, his visor pulsing within his helmet. The Sorcerer pointed to the Eradicator, and Byron staggered toward it as if pushed. Chrysalis followed, the arms of her servo harness slowly unfolding one by one from her back.

Byron approached the bomb nervously, clearly afraid to touch the outer casing. “All right… well… first I need to find the safety bypass panel. Ah… it isn’t clearly marked, because, well, we generally want to make it hard for people to disarm our bombs.” He tugged at his collar and started to walk around the side of the mole rig.

“Safety bypass! There!” Twilight shouted, generating a big, glowing arrow of purple light that hovered over a section of perfectly inconspicuous plating. "My augment can pick out the components!"

“I don’t see any panel. How will he open that?” Rarity asked in concern and steadily increasing dread.

“Melta cutter,” Byron said grimly, moving to the designated area of the explosive. He beckoned for Chrysalis to join him.

“Won’t burning a hole into the bomb trigger the failsafe you mentioned?” Dest asked.

“No. Of course, if I’m wrong I won’t live long enough to be very embarrassed about it.” Chrysalis thrust a servo arm toward the panel, only for him to recoil in alarm. “No! I said the melta cutter! That’s a hypotensine injector!”

“I don’t know which of these gizmos is which,” Chrysalis growled, mimicking Gaela’s voice out of habit. “Just take the one you want and move it into place!”

Byron grabbed the appropriate arm and then pulled it toward the panel. “All right, now activate it on a pulse setting at 30% capacity.”

“I haven’t fully mastered ‘on’ and ‘off’ yet, try to keep your expectations in check,” the changeling retorted.

The melta cutter flashed brightly, and Byron winced before quickly moving the arm’s head along the panel. Nothing exploded, and his confidence visibly improved as he carved a square-shaped molten scar in the bomb’s outer plating.

“You seemed pretty adept with the tools when you were fighting the Genestealers,” Twilight mumbled while Byron worked.

“Fighting is different,” Chrysalis said with a shallow sigh. “I’m not sure if it’s a feature of my modifications or the bodies I’m using, but when I want to break something they react… very naturally. The weapons just seem intuitive and the extra limbs figure out what I want to do on their own. This body WANTS to kill.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Gaela,” Applejack chuckled. Then she groaned, hanging her head. “Gosh, Ah miss her.”

“Okay, stop!” Byron shouted, pulling the melta cutter back. He pulled out his combat knife and started to pry the plating open. “Next I’ll need to complete the bypass circuit and activate the switch. Miss Sparkle, you seem to have the best technical scanner, so please let me know when there’s an energy surge.” He reached for another servo limb and pulled it toward him. “This work is going to be a little more delicate, especially since it looks like the melta cutter damaged the circuit.”

“Just say ‘on’ and ‘off’ and stop wasting your breath explaining the process to us,” Chrysalis sniffed.

“I find it very helpful when he explains it, personally,” Twilight said, “it’s helping me keep calm.”

“I feel less calm the more time we waste time talking while this weapon counts down to our deaths!” the changeling shouted back.

“Uhm, Twilight?” Fluttershy squeaked.

“Yes? Go ahead. No surge yet, Byron,” the Princess replied.

Fluttershy’s helmet was disengaged, and she had the scroll from the fleet clutched in the tiny manipulator claws on her chest. A pen was clenched in the edge of her mouth, and one of the manipulator arms reached up and plucked it out before she continued.

“I thought we could ask Warsmith Solon for help, so I wrote down what was happening as best I could… can you send this to him?”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s a great idea!” Twilight said brightly. “I mean it would have been a great idea when we got here, I seriously doubt we’ll have the time to get the message to him and review the advice before detonation now. But good thinking!”

“Add a note to the message that the exfiltration shuttle can withdraw without us if the Eradicator detonates,” Dest requested. “It will be easily detectable from orbit.”

“Oh… uh… okay,” the pegasus said miserably, putting the pen back in her mouth. After a few seconds of rapid scribbling, the surprisingly dexterous little arms rolled up the paper.

“No surge yet,” Twilight announced while Byron reached for a new servo limb to switch tools. “Fluttershy, is it ready?”

“Yes. Here.” She held the edge of the scroll in her mouth and held it out.

Twilight’s horn started to glow, and after a few seconds the scroll vanished in a pulse of purple light. “Okay! So that… well I don’t think it will come back in enough time to help.”

Then an icon flashed on her display and she gasped. “The energy surge! There it is! The bypass is complete!”

“Okay! Okay. That was a little easier than I remember it being in training,” Byron sighed and pushed the laser welder arm away. His hands were quivering, and sweat was dripping down the side of his head. “Next step. We need to get to the primary conduit. It’s right under this panel above the bypass. Now I think we can be a little rougher with the bypass complete, so-“

Dest reached over, sinking his claws into the designated section of casing. Then he ripped it open, tearing a long strip of metal away. Below the plating was a plasteel sleeve, which had already been slightly scarred by the removal of its protective covering.

“You have approximately one hundred seconds,” Dest said, stepping back again.

Byron gulped, and then quickly started removing the fasteners to the sleeve.

“It’s all right Byron, you’re almost there,” Erin assured him, her voice wavering only a little. “You’re going to do this!”

“Of… Of course. Yes.” The man took a deep breath, and then looked over to Chrysalis again. “I’ll need your help with this. It’s important that we sort through the wires and sever the correct ones. ONLY cut the red wires, you understand? The others will cause a feedback detonation if they’re severed first!”

“Sure. Red wires. Easy,” Chrysalis mumbled while Byron pulled away the sleeve. “… Question: What if there are no red wires?”

“WHAT?!” Twilight yelped, floating over the changeling to stare at the collection of wiring Byron was staring at with a slackened jaw. After a second she disengaged her helmet, tearing it off so that she could get an unobstructed view. “They’re gray! They’re all gray! WHY ARE THEY GRAY?!”

“I d-don’t know! I’ve been doing this b-based on a schemata I saw in a munitorium posting! They’re supposed to be c-c-color-coded!” the deserter stuttered.

“Suuna, Trixie would like a hug before we’re all blasted into radioactive goop,” Trixie said, looking up at her assistant sadly.

“Of course, Lady Trixie,” Suuna replied mournfully, putting down the artifact she had been carrying and then leaning down to embrace the magician around her neck. Trixie nuzzled her back, a single tear dripping down into the gorget of her armor.

“Okay, wait! I understand now! These wires are meme-tagged! A Techpriest can read them!” Byron said triumphantly.

“I don’t know what that means,” Chrysalis said.

“I can read them! We’re okay!” Twilight said, sounding profoundly relieved. “The top one is designated 2.0015.67001!”

Byron looked down at the wire, and then back up at the purple pony. “What?”

“It’s 2.00-“

“No, I don’t want you to repeat the useless string of numbers! What does that mean?!” Byron demanded.

“What does… Why are you asking ME?!” Twilight demanded angrily. “This is your bomb!”

“An encoded decimal string doesn’t tell me anything!”

“TWENTY SECONDS, BYRON!!”

“Don’t yell at me, this isn’t my fault!”

Pinkie’s Dreadnought took one awkward, limping step toward Dest, and then the helmet popped open. The Rhino pilot looked up into Pinkie’s eyes, his expression hidden, as always, behind the armored helmet fused to his skull.

“So, uh, looks like Trixie’s getting a hug in before we all die… you want to get in on that too?” Pinkie said with a badly forced smile.

A scream of desperation and anger suddenly came from the trio working on the rad-bomb, and Pinkie ducked back into the Dreadnought as Dest whirled around again.

“Out of my way, idiots!” Chrysalis shouted, shoving Twilight and Byron aside at the same time. A green halo enveloped her as she reached down into the conduit casing, and her metal hand closed around the entire bundle of wires. A puff of steam blasted from her elbow, and Byron squeezed his eyes shut in terror.

“RRRRRRRRAUGH!!” Chrysalis tore out the entire patch of wiring, and a wave of sparks erupted from the hole in the plating.

She held them up triumphantly, glaring down at the sundered machine as if daring it to explode.

Seconds passed while everyone stared at the Changeling Queen, stunned. Eventually her aura dimmed and she tossed away the handful of wires. An annoyed snort came from her mask.

“I told you: breaking things comes naturally to this body,” Chrysalis said dismissively, her breath sounding only slightly labored. “All you need is a little-“

A violet flash lit the room, and every pony and human plus Chrysalis herself screamed and recoiled in terror. The changeling immediately shrunk back to her true body, curling up into a quivering ball on the floor.

Even Dest and Serith had flinched at the sudden burst of light, but they noticed rather quickly that it wasn’t the bomb detonating. A small scroll of parchment dropped onto the edge of the mole rig, and then started to roll into a crack in the scaffolding frame.

“Ah, I see the Warsmith replied,” Serith said, beckoning to the scroll. It promptly lifted up into the air and floated toward him.

“You… You can… read it…” Twilight gasped, her breath heaving and her eye wide while she lay on the mole rig. “Need a minute… for… for heart… to start… beating again…”

Dest plucked the scroll out of the air and then opened it up. It was the same parchment that had been sent initially from the fleet, so it took several seconds to find the new text that had been added since Fluttershy sent it out.

“……… The Warsmith says you can just rip out all the wires after you activate the bypass,” Dest said.

“Really? You’re being serious right now?” Erin asked, leaning against the Eradicator and wiping the sweat from her forehead.

“The instructions include more than that, but yes. That was the most important insight he had to offer.” Dest closed the scroll. “It isn’t obvious based on the schemata, but evidently the safety bypass disables ALL the detonator redundancies. You’re mostly free to disassemble the bomb from that point.”

“Techpriests can be so lazy sometimes,” Serith chided, shaking his head. “Anyway, shall we go? The Imperium will not return soon to determine the fate of the bomb, but they will be observing closely once they determine things have gone awry.”

“Rainbow Dash, go fly up through the rig’s deployment tunnel to confirm it goes all the way to the surface and get some geo-coordinates I can send back to Solon,” Twilight commanded, sounding much more stable now. “Lord Dest, please work with Byron to destroy every piece of this bomb that can safely be torn apart. Chrysalis, when you’re done with your own panic attack – no shame in that, believe me – please turn into something big and help lift the Dreadnought into the deployment tunnel so we can get out of here. Suuna, please make sure the artifact is secure and start heading topside as soon as you and Trixie are ready. This mission – thank Celestia – is OVER.”

Ulaisse surface
Rendezvous point beta-4

Erin Whyd squinted into the night sky, watching a group of dark shapes speed through the air. Their blue and black patterning made them very hard to pick out in the darkness, and Erin was surprised and somewhat suspicious to see no engine burn trailing from them. The stars vanished briefly behind the hulls as the craft approached, allowing her to loosely track their path, but she couldn’t really judge their distance.

“Are those imperial craft? I don’t know much about… uh… heretic military vehicles,” the refugee asked as Dest and a few ponies approached behind her.

“I believe those are Tau transports. Devilfish. Or some similar pattern,” the Iron Warrior said, holding a finger to the side of his helmet.

“Tau? Aren’t those aliens?” Erin asked.

“Yes, but so are we,” Rarity answered with a somewhat weary titter. “Not all aliens are so bad, you know!”

“Sure, but the Tau are,” Applejack retorted gruffly.

“Oh. And… that’s why you stole their vehicles?” Erin guessed.

“… It’s complicated,” Rarity sighed while the skimmers slowed and started to descend.

“Easy… Lift it more! Stop trying to drag it against the incline!” Twilight called, hovering above the massive sinkhole in the middle of the clearing.

Chrysalis had transformed into a Maulerfiend siege walker again, and was straining to haul Pinkie’s Dreadnought up out of the tunnel she had climbed. Foul gases belched from the rows of smokestacks on her back and squeals of grinding metal came from her limbs while she pulled the slightly smaller walker out of the ground.

“Urgh! Blast it all! Is the bad leg caught on something again?!” Chrysalis snarled, a blast of steam coming from her metal nostrils. She tugged on the Dreadnought’s power fist, but the pink Contemptor barely moved.

“Hold on, let me check!” Twilight dropped back down into the tunnel, and a bright purple light came from the opening of the deployment pit.

Chrysalis growled wordlessly, although she was happy for the break. She took a moment to dig the heels of her rear legs more firmly into the dirt, and then twisted her long, armor-plated neck around to look behind her. Serith and Trixie were watching from a short distance away, with Suuna sitting on the grass behind them.

“You two can use levitation magic; why aren’t you helping?” the changeling demanded.

“The stress of telekinesis increases exponentially depending on the mass of the target, as I’m sure you’re aware,” Serith drawled. “A Dreadnought is quite beyond my power to lift.”

“Between me, you, and the three horned ponies, we could levitate something this size!” Chrysalis argued.

“Probably, but you’re doing fine,” Trixie said before breaking into a yawn.

Another noxious cloud blasted from the changeling’s smokestacks. “Whose idea was it to have one of the ponies in an assault walker, anyway?”

“It was the pink idiot’s idea. We don’t even know how she moves it,” Serith confessed. “The Warsmith expected to make her an armor suit like the others, but instead she showed up in a Dreadnought.”

“… What?” The glimmering green eyes of the daemon engine narrowed. “She just… appeared with this giant walker suddenly? And you let her have it?”

“It wasn’t this walker, no,” Pinkie suddenly interjected.

Chrysalis had many, many more questions after that, but Twilight suddenly interrupted from below. “Okay, you know what? I’m just going to teleport her the rest of the way. It’s like five meters. Chrysalis, you can let go.”

A purple flash lit the tunnel, and the Contemptor heavy walker vanished and reappeared behind the transformed changeling. Its torso swiveled left and right, and then the helmet visor found the skimmers landing at the edge of the clearing.

“Woo-hoo! That’s our ride outta here!” the Dreadnought lurched forward, almost tripping immediately on its inoperable leg.

Chrysalis glared down at Twilight as the armored alicorn flew up out of the pit and landed next to her. “We could have gotten her out of here a long time ago! Why didn’t you do that sooner?!”

“Because I’m TIRED,” Twilight snapped back, disengaging her helmet and dropping it onto her back, atop the force harmonizer. “Now stop whining and let’s get off this stupid moon.” She began trudging toward the transports.

Chrysalis kept glaring for several seconds, then huffed and shrank back to her real body. She followed Twilight in silence.

Before long, Twilight suddenly cleared her throat. “By the way… I should thank you. For accompanying us, and for helping us. You’re not the easiest ally I’ve had to deal with… but you’re not the hardest, either. I doubt we would have made it without you.”

Chrysalis narrowed her eyes, reviewing her words for hints of sarcasm. “Well… I suppose it’s nice having someone in this army of maniacs trying to butter me up for once instead of talking down to me all the time,” Chrysalis sniffed, raising her head higher in the air while her lips curled into a smirk. “If I may say so, you’re not terrible at this little squad leader thing you have going on here, either. It’s honestly a much better use for somepony of your ability rather than lazing about some village acting as Celestia’s errand mare.”

“That’s NOT what I was doing before the Iron Warriors came, but thank you for the compliment,” Twilight replied tightly. “And I’m not buttering you up. I just think it’s important to recognize the difficult work you did, and that you stayed to help us at grave risk to yourself when you could have fled. Especially with the rad-bomb.”

“Bah! I was saving myself; you just happened to be there too,” the Changeling Queen scoffed. “I can’t fly any faster than you can. There was no way I would have been able to escape in time.”

Twilight arched eyebrow. “But Rainbow Dash could. You could have just turned into her and flew outside and she’s the only one who could have even tried to stop you.”

Chrysalis missed a step, almost tripping in the dirt. Her eyes bulged, and her jaw fell open. “……… You’re RIGHT! Blast! I didn’t even think of that!”

Twilight seemed surprised at the admission, but then her expression relaxed into a lazy smile. “Well, you would have been stuck here with no way to contact the transports in orbit without me, so I guess it was worth the risk.”

“I would have been alone and free on a rich world full of clueless Imperial thugs!” Chrysalis said, very nearly tearing up with regret. “I could have replaced or brainwashed the leadership of this place in a week! I could have started a new hive and ruled this moon! Maybe the entire system! My Nemesis Codex was still unlocked too! I can’t believe it never even occurred to me!”

“Oh, thanks for reminding me. Engage Nemesis lock, core configuration alpha-two,” Twilight said.

“Gah! Hey! Why did you do that? I thought we were getting along!” the changeling complained as her core slowed down dramatically.

“We are. We’re getting along so well that you won’t be needing to turn your arm into a plasma cannon anytime soon.”

“That’s not the point! I hate having all that energy restricted! The lock barely leaves me enough to feed! None of the rest of you lunatics have to run around with a muzzle on, so why do I?!”

“Let’s go home, Chrysalis.”

Harvest of Steel
Medicae bay 2-7 C

Rarity hissed through clenched teeth as the needle plunged into her flank. She looked up into the mask of glowing green lights and tangled wiring, twisting her face into a grimace while her ears fell flat. She held that glare for several seconds until the needle was finally withdrawn. The Techpriest looming over her chirped something in its bizarre Binaric language and turned away.

“Hey, we almost done here? C’mon, I wanna show Tellis the vid-capture I got taking down the bomber!” Rainbow Dash was excitedly bouncing on a padded table, her wings stretched out wide.

All the ponies of Equinought Squadron were waiting in the medicae room, along with Erin Whyd and Byron Hess. They had been separated from their other allies and also stripped of their power armor and weaponry. Rainbow Dash seemed eager to be released from the room, but the other mares waited patiently with varying degrees of annoyance while they were scanned and jabbed with unnecessarily large syringes.

“I’m afraid you’re under quarantine until everypony is cleared, Miss Dash,” said Claret Heartthrob. The pink unicorn was currently standing next to Twilight and studying the wound on her shoulder. “You still need to have that leg looked at, too. Your battle log says there were shrapnel wounds.”

“It’s fine! Fluttershy took care of it!” Rainbow scoffed.

The other pegasus anxiously shook her head, quietly indicating that she did not agree with Rainbow’s medical assessment.

“We’ll run a magna scan anyway to check for any microshards, Miss Dash. You won’t feel a thing, I promise.” Claret levitated a dataslate next to Twilight’s shoulder and frowned. “As for you, Princess, you’re going to need a little surgery here. This damage is more severe than you suggested, and I’m seeing indications of a contact venom in the muscle tissue.”

Twilight winced. “Really? It didn’t feel that bad…”

“I know, right? Those drugs are AWESOME!” Rainbow laughed.

The doors to the medicae beeped, indicating an override of the quarantine lock. Then they slid open, and Byron and Erin recoiled at the sight of the behemoth Iron Warrior behind them. The ponies’ reactions were more subdued, at least until the fleet’s Warsmith cleared the entrance and a familiar female Techpriest stepped in behind him.

“GAELA!” Twilight said happily, standing up straight.

Pinkie Pie immediately launched herself from one of the observation tables as if to tackle the armored figure. Gaela caught her with her ion blaster arm, the tri-fingers clamping around the pony’s face while the mare’s legs flailed comically.

“Hello,” Gaela said blandly before tossing Pinkie back where she had come from. “No hugs.”

A deep, rumbling chuckle came from Solon as he advanced further into the medicae. “Well, it would sheem you’re all in high shpiritsh! Very good! I wash beginning to think-“

“Warsmith Solon, hello!” Doctor Claret interrupted, her voice pleasant but firm. Solon halted immediately. “You may of course visit whomever you wish in circumvention of standard quarantine protocol, but please maintain a distance of two meters from all patients and minimize exhaust dispersal, as you are a serious infection risk.”

The massive Space Marine immediately planted all of his legs on the deck, and the stream of gas leaking from the smokestacks on his chassis slowed to a bare wisp. Solon leaned back on his chassis and cleared his throat, a noise so horrendous that the refugees cringed.

“Ash I wash shaying… it ish unfortunate that you losht my Thunderhawk on Ulaisshe, and the exfiltration recovered fewer pershonnel than expected, but you made it back in one piece! And with the artifact! Shplendid!” Then he swiveled to face Byron and Erin, who both stiffened at the goliath’s attention. “Greetingsh, refugeesh! I am Warshmith Sholon.”

“That’s ‘Warsmith Solon.’ Hard S.” Rarity corrected before the humans could reply. “Don’t mind his… erm, accent.”

“He is the High Commander of this fleet, and from here on out he is your master. You live or die by his whim alone,” Gaela added darkly. “Introduce yourselves.”

“Erin Whyd,” Erin announced, staring up into the cluster of optics on the side of the Warsmith’s helmet. “Uh… Should I… kneel or something?”

“Oh, don’t bother. Thish won’t take long anyway,” Solon assured her. His servo claw levered forward to point at Byron, and the man flinched. “And you?”

“I’m B-Byron Hess, Lord Warsmith,” Byron announced. “I was an explosives expert with the Imperial military before I deserted and joined the sanctuary… or… joined the… Genestealer cult, rather. Unintentionally!”

“A sapper. Hmph.” Gaela did not look impressed. “Between the Iron Warriors’ siege specialization and the Dark Mechanicus, you won’t find great demand for your technical skills here, Hess. I hope you have others.”

“Naw, he’s all right,” Applejack protested. “When we were starin’ down an Eradicator rad-bomb he was right handy. Saved all of us!”

“An Eradicator?” Gaela asked hesitantly.

“Yes. We actually needed to have the shape-shifter take your body to generate the tools we needed, incidentally,” Byron said bashfully, scratching the back of his head. “Your, uh, xeno friends here think very highly of you! It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Techpriest.”

Gaela stared at him inscrutably for a few moments. “Are you aware that when disarming an Eradicator you can sever all the wires of-“

“All the wires of the main conduit at once, yes. We know now,” Byron finished with a sigh. Then he yelped as his arm was seized from behind. “Hey! What do you-OW!” A dark-robed cyborg plunged a needle into his arm, the servo clamps over its shoulders holding him in place.

“My apologiesh for the rough welcome,” Solon chuckled, “but the teshtsh are necesshary for reashonsh you are well-acquainted with by now.”

“This is the second time, though! You already took a sample when we arrived!” Byron complained through clenched teeth.

The Techpriest did not provide any explanation, and after several seconds it withdrew the needle. It retreated as soon as it checked the sample, releasing the refugee and scuttling away toward the device in the back.

“Hey, uh, on the topic of tests and such… did ya already do one fer Trixie?” Applejack asked, her ears flipping down. “We got separated as soon as we were aboard.”

“Indeed we have, ash well as Desht, Queen Chryshalish, and Trixie’sh shervant girl,” Solon announced. “They were all clear of xeno infection.”

Rainbow mimed wiping sweat off her brow with her wing. Rarity pressed a hoof to her chest, looking quite relieved.

“That said, they did find some interesting anomalies with the Great and Powerful one,” Claret added, tapping her hoof against a dataslate. “Numerous ruptured blood vessels across her body aside from the open wound in her neck. Irregularities in the optic nerve and a strip of dead tissue in the brain. It looks like she may have endured a stroke. We also found some unidentified residue in the striations of her horn.”

“That sounds… really bad,” Rainbow murmured. “What happened to her? Serith wouldn’t tell us.”

“No idea. He jusht gave me the ruined lump of the pshykant occulush to fix and then took the artifact and left,” Solon grumped.

“Can anyone explain what Lord Serith is and why he seems to be a suit of animated power armor?” Byron asked anxiously.

“No,” Solon replied. Then he addressed the ponies again. “Our forcesh have completed their withdrawal from Ghessheim V. We expect to make Warp entry ash shoon ash we clear the gravity well. Your firsht raid under the 38th Company ish officially complete.”

Rainbow and Pinkie whooped and cheered, jumping up in place. Applejack stomped her hoof against the deck and snorted to join in the celebration. Byron and Erin glanced at each other uncomfortably, wondering about the type of carnage that had been visited upon the hive world while they were escaping the planet’s capital. Twilight seemed more hesitant, and she coughed lightly before speaking up again.

“Assuming, of course, everything checks out with our screening… which it… does, right?” she asked, her ears pinning back anxiously.

Claret Heartthrob looked up from the dataslate with a smile. “Equinought Squadron is clean. Zero signs of genetic corruption.”

The other ponies clearly expected such a judgment, but Twilight let out an almost desperate gasp of relief. Her legs wobbled and she slumped onto her belly. The others stared.

“Were you expecting a different diagnosis?” Gaela asked bluntly.

“No! No, definitely not!” the young Princess shouted a little too loudly. “Um… but it DID occur to me that maybe some of the strange psychic communications I was receiving had a more… insidious origin than I was expecting. But they don’t! Good!”

“Then that just leaves… us,” Erin Whyd said, fighting the quiver in her voice. “What does your machine say?”

Claret looked up at her, and then down at the tablet. She tapped the dataslate with her hoof, and then smiled at her. “You’re clean, Miss Whyd.”

She straightened, her eyes wide. “Really? They never… never got me?”

“Well I know absolutely nothing about your experience on Ulaisse except that you’ve clearly been in close enough proximity to Genestealers to fear genetic corruption, but I can say that your DNA is completely human and quite stable,” Claret explained gently.

“Outstanding!” Byron said. “And me?”

Doctor Claret’s smile vanished as she tilted her head toward the man. One of her eyes was covered by her mane, but the other was filled with pity. She shook her head.

“Wait… What?” Rainbow asked, her ears flipping back.

As the color drained from Byron’s face, the Techpriest at the back blurted something in Binaric Cant. Gaela’s expression didn’t change, but she carefully adjusted her grip on her power axe for more immediate use. The ponies stared at the explosives expert slack-jawed, awaiting further explanation.

“That… No, that’s wrong. It has to be wrong,” Byron said, his hands starting to tremble.

“It’sh not wrong,” Solon assured him. “They took multiple shamplesh and teshted them multiple timesh. The Geneshtealersh have poishoned you, Mishter Hessh. You are of the cult, and for you eshcape wash never posshible.”

“But… when?” Rarity asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “He wasn’t alone at all since we met him, was he?”

“I imagine he wasn’t,” Doctor Claret responded, her voice grim. “It’s difficult to tell the precise age of the Genestealers’ genetic infections, and I am rather new to the entire field of xenobiology in general, but Mister Hess was infected weeks or months ago, not hours.”

Erin stumbled backward, her hand reflexively reaching to her hip for a weapon that wasn’t there.

“But… that… in the… in the chamber, he…” Applejack stumbled over her words, hesitantly pointing a hoof at Byron. “Ya mean he was just FAKIN’ it all this time he was helpin’ us?!”

“On the contrary. He faked nothing,” Gaela said calmly. Her bionic eye was locked onto the sweating, terrified face of the refugee, casting a greenish pall over his glasses. “His actions were completely genuine. It is the alien’s compulsion that is false, diverting human will and seeding his thoughts with lies. This man’s failure was insufficient vigilance in the tunnels of the underhive, not betrayal of his apparent saviors.” She hefted her axe, and a crackling discharge ran over its edge. “Granted, the penalties for either are quite similar.”

Byron sank to his knees, hugging himself. “It’s not true. It’s not. It can’t be…” be sobbed.

“Okay, wait, maybe… maybe something can be done?” Twilight said, her voice badly strained. “Infected or not, he’s just a human, right? If he can be contained, then maybe we-“

Byron suddenly leapt forward like a coiled spring, jumping at Solon with an object in his hand. The Warsmith was caught completely off-guard, barely having time to recoil.

Gaela was not caught off-guard. The Techpriest intercepted Byron with her shoulder, knocking him back to the deck. The object he was carrying was flung from his grip and started bouncing across the floor.

Twilight’s bionic eye tagged the item immediately. It was very quick to do so once she had a good view, as it had already scanned this particular object before. It was the explosive charge from one of the traps they had encountered on the way to the Patriarch’s lair.

“MELTA BOMB!!” the Princess shrieked, her wings spreading and flapping in a panic. “GET DOWN!!”

Most of the ponies dropped onto their bellies, but Rarity’s horn flashed instead to seize the explosive with magic. The bomb was flung across the room with her telekinesis, directed toward a bulkhead wall as far as possible from the room’s occupants. It detonated just before impact, burning a large hole in the medicae wall.

Byron stuttered incoherently on the floor. One of Gaela’s servo arms reached down and clamped onto his arm, lifting him up while she reared back her axe.

“Techpriesht Gaela. Hold,” Solon commanded.

She froze without a word, keeping her pose with axe ready to strike. Solon approached the infected refugee, looming over him, and then reached down with his hand to lift the man’s chin up. Byron trembled at the touch of the large, oily metal fingers against his jaw and the bright red optics glaring at him, his expression terrified yet resigned.

“Mishter Hessh, you have done me a great shervice by returning my sholdiersh to me shafely. You have alsho delivered to me Ulaisshe’sh artifact. Neither would have been posshible without your aid. For thish I thank you.”

“Warsmith…” Twilight whispered, hanging her head.

“In recognition, I grant you a better death than being incinerated in the bowelsh of thish ship or being disshected by the Dark Mechanicush,” Solon proclaimed before releasing him and stepping back. “Gaela-”

Gaela’s axe descended on a streak of crimson lightning, carving into Byron’s shoulder and tearing completely through the man’s torso. The ponies flinched away from the sight, but Erin watched the execution in steely silence. Claret Heartthrob recoiled in shock. The Techpriest behind her bleated a complaint in Binaric. Solon tilted his head to the side.

“… I wash going to ashk you to reshtrain him on the table sho the medicae could euthanize him,” Solon said with a sigh.

Gaela’s eye widened, and then she flushed and scowled, clearly chastened. It was probably the most expressive face Twilight had ever seen from her and would have been almost cute if not for the gore splashed against her legs and robe.

“I… I apologize, Lord Warsmith!” Gaela said, dropping to one knee in the pooling blood. “In my haste and arrogance, I defied your will! I will accept any punishment!”

“No, it’sh fine. I shupposhe it wash shtill a quick death. Good enough,” Solon said, taking another step back to keep from getting his legs bloody.

“Can I have an apology for the corpse bleeding all over my examination office?” Doctor Claret asked hotly.

“Shut up,” Gaela replied, standing up but not deigning to look at the unicorn.

“Do you have any idea how many safety protocols you’ve violated here?! And it’s xeno-contaminated too!” Claret complained, rearing up to shake a hoof angrily.

The Techpriest biologis behind her sputtered something in Binaric.

“Well then YOU clean it up! You said the gene editing mechanism was unclear! That makes contact an infection risk!” The Techpriest bleated something else, and the unicorn bristled. “I just watched a man get chopped in half for being exposed to alien biohazards, don’t give me that!”

“Lord Warsmith, may I go now?” Erin asked, her eyes looking desperately tired. “I really need to bathe. And probably dry heave.”

“No, you can’t go! This is a quarantine zone!” Claret shouted, pre-empting the fleet’s Commander. A decorative chain was strung from a pair of piercings on the tip and base of her horn, and as the medicae got even more agitated the links started to glow like a heating stovetop. “I have a responsibility to keep you reckless maniacs from spreading contagion over the half of the ship that isn’t already dedicated to the god of plagues, and I would appreciate a little cooperation in this!”

“The primary reason for the quarantine was the risk of xeno infection, which has been neutralized,” Gaela reasoned.

“You ‘neutralized’ it by splattering it all over-HEY!” Claret snapped her head to the side as Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie galloped out of the room through the hole that had been blasted into the wall. “You have NOT been cleared for debriefing! Get back here!”

System exit vector established. All hands prepare for Warp entry, droned a voice from the vox caster. May the Dark Gods ease our passage through the Empyrean and reveal to us our next victims. Iron within! Iron without!

Author's Note

Boy I hope you readers aren't getting too attached to the new guys.
I had another EZ artwork lined up for this, but unfortunately the intervening months wasn't enough for him to finish. I'll post it in-chapter once it's complete.

Shore Leave

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 12
Shore Leave

Harvest of Steel
Deck C-20 – Trixie’s quarters

Trixie’s ears twitched as a loud buzzing noise came from the door. She moaned and rolled onto her back, and then lifted up the sleep mask over her face, stretching it to hang against her horn. The lumens in her quarters were on but dimmed, allowing her eyes to adjust quickly to the gloom. Next to the door, a red bar lumen blinked repeatedly.

Trixie groaned and lifted herself upright. “Who desires an audience with the Great and Powerful Trixie? And is there any way this could wait until morning?” she called to the door, fighting down a yawn that threatened to interrupt mid-sentence.

“It is I, Lady Trixie.” Serith’s voice came from the hall. “Would you prefer I address you at a later time?”

Trixie arched an eyebrow, and then looked across the room. Suuna had her own cot on the opposite wall, and she was scrambling to get up now that she knew who it was. Trixie threw off her covers and then dropped onto the deck.

“Suuna, get dressed. Trixie will handle this,” the unicorn declared, trotting to the front door. Her assistant nodded gratefully and rushed for the metal locker that acted as her dresser.

Trixie paused in front of the door and activated her horn, removing the sleeping mask and making a quick attempt to style her mane. Then she tapped the pad under the door lock to open it. The metal barrier – tastefully decorated with a poster of a flailing pony on a branch under the words “Hang in there!” – slid into the bulkhead. Serith stood in the hallway, as expected. He was unarmed, or at least as unarmed as the battle psyker could be; his force halberd was absent.

“Lord Serith! Hello! What an unexpected visit!” Trixie said, leaning to one side to check if anyone else was behind him. “You ARE Serith, right? Not Chrysalis playing dumb games with her shapeshifting?”

“I am Serith, yes. High Sorcerer of the 38th Company ever since I was offered up as livestock by my former masters, the Thousand Sons,” he explained, sharing an aspect of his life that Chrysalis was extremely unlikely to know. “I wish to speak to you. In private, ideally, but I suppose I can endure the presence of your slave.”

“My ASSISTANT is just making herself presentable,” Trixie replied, glancing back into the room. Suuna had finished putting on her blouse and was combing her hair, trying to avoid looking at the hulking suit of armor at the door. “Come in and make yourself at home.”

Trixie’s quarters in the flagship were much like her dwelling in Ferrous Dominus. Sterile metal walls were papered over with posters that she had used to advertise her show, drawings, little trophies scavenged from battlefields, and the odd arcane scroll unrolled and pinned in place. Her hat was hung on a peg near the back, and her power armor helmet on a peg next to it. The rest of the wargear was sitting below it, the suit’s torso frame unfolded and yawning open like a discarded molting.

“What did you want to talk about, Serith?” Trixie walked over to Suuna’s bunk and sat down in front of it. Then her assistant sat down on the bunk and started brushing Trixie’s coat while the unicorn waited.

Serith closed the door, and then crossed his arms over his chest. The Sorcerer didn’t look Trixie in the eyes, gathering his thoughts for a full minute before he began.

“It is time I told you what occurred on Ulaisse,” Serith said, still staring at the wall. “In the time between our disastrous landing and your waking below the Destiny Cube…“

“Still surprised that caught on. It’s not even a cube,” Trixie mumbled after Serith trailed off.

“… you were under the control of another,” Serith finally admitted. “I noticed the possession and confronted it, but I failed to stop it. Then it erased part of your memories and left you.”

Suuna’s brushing slowed to a stop, and she stared at the Iron Warrior in confusion. Trixie simply arched an eyebrow.

“What are you talking about? Under the control of what?” Trixie asked.

“A daemon,” Serith answered. Suuna flinched slightly, her eyes wide.

Trixie’s expression didn’t change. “Explain further.”

“When you breached the veil of the Empyrean completely, seizing the necessary power to ease our landing, you were possessed,” Serith explained, his tone unusually tense. “This was no random assault from a Warp beast pouncing on an unwary psyker. The daemon was waiting for your overreach, and it attached itself to you quietly. It slowly overwhelmed your waking mind, and then followed the rest of us into the ruin while acting as you would. To the best of its meager ability, at least.”

“Trixie was under the impression daemonic possessions were not so subtle,” the unicorn mused aloud.

“They rarely are. Again, this was a calculated effort, not unfortunate happenstance,” the Sorcerer continued. “Nonetheless, I confirmed my suspicions and followed you when you left the rest of the group. When the daemon refused to abandon its vessel, I attacked. This is why you were wounded when you were found beside the Destiny Cube.”

Trixie’s other eyebrow arched. Suuna likewise stared at Serith in open disbelief. He hardly needed to read their minds to figure out their thoughts: Neither of them believed Trixie could have escaped Serith if he really wanted the unicorn dead, regardless of her possession or wargear.

“After you escaped, the daemon brought you to the artifact ahead of the rest of the group, apparently evading any Genestealers skulking about the cult. It then abandoned you there, infiltrating the Destiny Cube,” Serith explained.

“Do you know why?” Trixie asked.

“It was to set a trap for Princess Sparkle,” he replied. “It very nearly worked. A few days ago she joined with the artifact in an attempt to divine its secrets. Only the exhaustive preparations of Hierophant Mantis allowed her to survive. Equinought Squadron was badly injured as a result.”

Trixie placed a hoof to her chin and furrowed her brow under her horn. Suuna went back brushing her, but she looked at the pony with grave concern. Serith continued staring at the wall, feeling utterly ridiculous.

What was he even waiting for? He had told the mare the truth. He had laid his latest error bare. Was he really going to stand in the corner waiting for some ignorant xeno weakling to pass judgment upon him?

“You knew about the daemon, right? Being in the Destiny Cube,” Trixie asked, her eyes narrowing, “but you didn’t tell anyone. Why?”

“It is not the way of Sorcerers to share knowledge,” he replied with a snort.

Trixie didn’t look impressed by the response. “Come on. You’re telling Trixie you watched Sparkle dive into a monster assassin’s clutches out of habit? Even if you didn’t want to tell them anything, there were lots of ways to manipulate events to avoid it. Why didn’t you?”

The eye lenses of Serith’s helmet pulsed. His irritation grew. Invisible power snaked around his gauntlets, begging to be unleashed and scour away the fools that would witness his humiliation. He raised an arm and watched as tiny motes of light rose from the tips of his fingers like embers floating from a fire.

“It was my idea,” Serith confessed. “I taught Hierophant Mantis the necessary rituals to send Princess Sparkle into the Destiny Cube because I thought the daemon would not expect such an intrusion and its machinations would be exposed.” He closed his hand into a fist, feeling the energy seeping through his gauntlets trickle away. “It had never occurred to me that Sparkle herself would be the target, that such a circuitous plot would aim merely to end the life of a single pony.”

“Now it all makes sense,” Trixie said with a small sigh.

“I cannot agree,” the Sorcerer grumbled. “For Sparkle to be the direct target of daemonic minds defies reason.”

“Well it is called ‘Chaos.’ Maybe there is no reason,” Trixie shrugged.

“That is the simple answer, yes. That this is an act of pure malice, unusual only in its degree of calculation. I do not believe it,” Serith replied. “Chaos is never so careful in its capricious murders. Very few creatures, mortal or otherwise, catch the eye of daemons. Yet Sparkle has been targeted. This is, as I understand it, the third separate occasion on which the Warpspawned have attempted to slay her.” He shook his head. “These creatures want her dead with an intensity and forethought uncommon for daemons. This was no sport, no rapturous bloodletting to amuse the killers. She is their enemy, not their prey. But I do not know why.”

“It is weird, isn’t it?” Trixie mumbled. “For one thing, you guys worship Chaos, so if Chaos wants a pony dead, couldn’t they just tell you to shoot her and be done with it?”

“No. That is not how it works,” the Sorcerer replied blithely. “Chaos Space Marines do not answer to any Warp denizen who calls upon us. Only under specific conditions, or at the behest of the Gods themselves, would we serve in such a manner. And even in the latter case, it would depend on which God.” A snort came from the empty helmet. “Were Tzeentch to petition me directly for Princess Sparkle’s head, I would relish the chance to defy him.”

“But wouldn’t Tzeentch have predicted that and arranged a trap that depended on your violent opposition to his aims? The Changer of Ways wouldn’t really ask you for help and expect you to just do what he wanted, right?” Suuna asked.

Serith turned to stare silently at Trixie’s assistant. She swallowed nervously and returned to brushing Trixie.

“ANYWAY,” the unicorn said loudly, forestalling further discussion of Tzeentch’s methods, “Trixie gets it. You were trying to finesse the situation from the outside. You prepared the wrong plan, and somepony nearly died because of it. Trixie knows what THAT’S like,” she scoffed.

“You… You do?” Suuna asked, moving on to her tail.

“It’s not like Can’naan made it easy either, and in the end he failed, right? So no harm, no foul,” Trixie assured the hulking psyker.

“Wasn’t there a lot of harm?” Suuna asked, her forehead creasing, “Lord Serith said-“

“Silence,” Serith commanded, stepping closer to her and Trixie. “Lady Trixie, what did you say?”

“Trixie just thinks you shouldn’t beat yourself up over miscalculating, here. Although you should really just tell Trixie when-“

“Not that. You said something odd. A name?”

Trixie paused uncertainly. Her eyes seemed to glaze over, and her horn flickered with light like a broken lumen. “… Can’naan. That’s… That’s its name. Trixie remembers now.”

Serith dropped into a crouch in front of the unicorn, holding an open palm above her head as if to shield it. “What else? What did this creature leave in the recesses of your mind?”

“Can’naan the Forsaken. Denied. Outcast,” Trixie said, her voice sounding distant and her gaze distracted. “The strategy. A beacon in the dark, crying for help. Distressed souls, reaching into the Empyrean with desperate need. Fear. Pain. Hope. Seize it. Break it. KILL IT.”

“Mistress?” Suuna whimpered, leaning back from the blue pony.

“It… It was all to kill her. Can’naan was chosen because it was weak. It could seize a pony body without destroying it and alerting witnesses. Smart enough to grasp the subtleties of the plot. To reach the lure before HE could. To extinguish the light.” Trixie continued speaking, her voice slowly returning to its usual cadence and her eyes blinking away the visions flashing through her brain with alarming intensity.

“What is this light?” Serith demanded.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Trixie answered immediately. “She has been marked for death. Can’naan did not come up with this strategy. It was just told of the path. A hundred thousand futures, narrowing to a single point like a dagger’s tip. And… A-And…”

Trixie’s voice started to break, as if she was taken by a rising panic. Serith leaned even closer, the lens of his helmet visor inches from Trixie’s bright purple eyes. “And what? What told Can’naan of this plot? Why did it seek Sparkle’s head?”

Trixie’s eyes dilated. “W-Wait… No… It’s…” She screamed in pain, suddenly leaping up on her hind legs and flailing in a panic. Her horn practically exploded with light, blinding Suuna with its intensity and building up a tremendous halo of magic power around her head.

Suuna grabbed Trixie around her waist, pulling the mare into a hug even as the horrifying shriek intensified. Serith took a second to adjust his visual autosenses, and then his hand lashed out, seizing Trixie’s horn. A ferocious crackle came from the contact, as well as a sharp hiss as the metal gauntlet rapidly heated up.

“Yet another useless ploy!” Serith snarled. The Psykant Occulus split open behind his wrist, and trembling dispersal rods emerged and started spewing mist into the air. The magic light dimmed and arcs of power whipped around his gauntlet as the device rapidly drained the magic energy bleeding from Trixie’s horn. “You’ll get nothing from us, coward! Not one more soul!!”

For ten agonizing seconds the tormented mare kept screaming, her breath slowly petering out. Trixie’s horn seemed to falter at the same rate, the glow and energy surge slowly receding. Then the performer gasped, her eyes rolling up into her head while smoke curled all around her. Her body fell limp into Suuna’s arms, and then Serith slowly opened his fist. The gauntlet was charred from the discharge, but the Occulus was still functional.

“She’s still breathing! Oh, thank goodness!” Suuna cried, utterly terrified and confused while she stroked the unicorn’s ears. “Is she okay? Did her power burn her mind out?”

“It tried to. A parting gift from our friend Can’naan,” Serith spat, slowly standing up. “With a Warp surge of that degree, it would have taken us with it.”

The Psykant Occulus slowly retracted the glowing, glassy rods into the compartments within his vambrace. “She is harmed, but the damage is limited. I will see her to the medicae.”

Serith held out his hands. Suuna picked Trixie up, cradling her on her back. She stared at Serith’s outstretched arms, glanced down at the pony curled up in her arms, and then looked up at Serith with an arched eyebrow.

“You… want to carry her? Through the ship?”

The Sorcerer immediately dropped his arms to his side, turned away sharply, and walked to the door. “Never mind; I see you do not struggle with her weight. Follow me, slave.”

Serith opened the door and rushed into the hall. Suuna followed him, still cradling Trixie in her arms.

Harvest of Steel
Medicae bay 2-7 C

Claret Hearthrob nodded absently to herself as she stared at a monitor screen on the wall. It displayed an internal scan of a pegasus body, with all the bones outlined in bright green and notes drawn to key points in red and blue. The pony’s wings were spread, and every few seconds the visual model would spin around by 180 degrees to give a different view.

“All the bones are green, right? That means I’m cured. All the stuff on my visor is green when it’s fine.” Rainbow Dash was behind the doctor, laying on an observation bed. There were several old bandages on a table next to her, having been cut loose after the scan was taken.

“That does not mean you’re cured, no,” Claret drawled. “These cogitators are content when they find no gaping holes in your bones, but my job is a little more sensitive than that.”

Rainbow groaned. “Come onnnnn! It’s been days since the lab accident! If I’m not cleared soon I’m gonna have to sit out our next mission!”

“That’s the point, yes,” Claret said blithely. “You and Princess Sparkle have endured much deeper injury than the others, so I’m not clearing you for combat duty until you’ve recovered fully from the concussion. Sorry, concussions, plural.”

Rainbow Dash growled, the feathers quivering around her wings. Claret was not obviously bothered by the reaction.

“Also, I want to have you evaluated psychologically as well. You’ve been damaged in ways that Equestria’s understanding of medicine cannot address, and I’d like to spend a little more time on it before the Warsmith hurls you back into a battle zone.”

“Evaluated psychologically?! What does that even mean?” Rainbow asked irritably.

“It means-“ Claret Heartthrob was interrupted by the door, which emitted a brief horn buzzer before opening.

The doctor recoiled and blinked rapidly in surprise at seeing Serith step inside the apothecarion. This was not the medicae bay for Astartes patients, and anyway her understanding was that Serith was a bodiless suit of armor animated by psychic will. She had to imagine he was quite immune to any physical ailment or medically treatable injury. The situation made more sense once Suuna stepped around him; she was carrying Trixie in her arms, with the unicorn’s head lying on her shoulder.

“What happened? Is she unconscious?” Claret asked, turning toward a panel on the wall and flipping a switch with her magic.

Suuna nodded anxiously. “Yes, but she’s still breathing. Her mind was-“

A section of the bulkhead wall slid out into the room like a drawer, revealing another examination bed in it. Claret walked up to the controls and tapped a few buttons, registering the bed for emergency use and preparing a simple preliminary scan. Then she turned back around, uncertain why the girl had stopped talking mid-sentence.

Suuna seemed to be frozen in time, her mouth still open as if paused while forming a word. Serith had his arm raised, a single finger extended to touch the back of her head. Rainbow Dash shuddered and stood up on her bed, scowling at the Sorcerer.

“Lord Serith, whatever it is you’re doing to that poor woman, I do hope she can breathe in that state,” Claret said angrily.

“This will not take long,” he replied, the lenses of his helmet pulsing.

A metallic clang rang out through the room and then a surgical tray smacked into Serith’s arm, budging it away from Suuna’s head. She immediately continued forward again, as if unfrozen, but then stopped and swayed in place while blinking in confusion.

Serith rounded on Rainbow Dash, who was hovering next to a chirurgeon shelf. “How bold of you, flying vermin! Do you suppose that our recent venture together means I will not tear your mind open?” His tone sounded almost jovial, but purple flame appeared in his palm and started to swell around the rest of the gauntlet.

“Hey! HEY! NO FIGHTING IN THE APOTHECARION!!” Claret cried, her tail sticking straight up and electric sparks buzzing around the chain on her horn. “Dash, get back to your observation bed! Lord Serith, extinguish that wychfire THIS INSTANT! You, girl! Put Miss Great and Whatever on the bed I just opened!”

Rainbow and Suuna hurried to comply, but Serith held onto his fireball while he tracked the pegasus across the room.

“Lord Serith, are you REALLY going to make me clean up another corpse in here?” Claret asked, her tone going from incensed to exasperated.

“… No. I would hate to distract you from your more important work, Medicae.” The Sorcerer finally closed his hand back into a fist, and the dark, smoldering flames receded without a trace.

Claret looked very relieved to see the psychic energies vanish, and then she turned around to address Suuna. Trixie’s assistant was laying the mare on the observation bed, being very careful to support her head.

“So what happened? I’m seeing burn marks on her horn,” Claret asked. “They don’t look like contact burns, and I’m not see similar damage in the surrounding mane.”

“Well, Mistress Trixie-“ Suuna started to speak, only for the unicorn surgeon to interrupt immediately.

“I’d prefer to hear an explanation from Lord Serith. No offense, Miss, but I feel like it would be less… complicated that way.” Claret Heartthrob stared expectantly at the towering suit of power armor standing before the entrance.

Serith approached, his greaves rattling loudly against the deck. A wall of red light was sweeping over Trixie’s unconscious body, and a holo-screen opened up above the bed to display the scan results. He stared at the unicorn silently, and Trixie whimpered softly in her sleep.

“… This was a daemon attack,” he admitted at last.

Claret’s eyes widened in surprise. “Daemon?! But this-“

“It was not a conventional daemon attack, obviously,” Serith continued, crossing his arms over his chest. “This daemon did not rend her flesh, but tore at her thoughts instead. It was the source of the… ‘stroke’ you detected earlier, as well. It is long gone, but the harm it inflicted persists.”

“I KNEW it wasn’t a blood clot!” Claret growled through clenched teeth, rushing to the cogitator. “Everything about that tissue damage seemed off! Of course we all suspected you of doing it, but nobody could figure out WHY…”

“Of course you did,” Serith said, shrugging the bulbous shoulder pads of his armor. “It was the most logical conclusion given that I confessed to inflicting her other wounds.”

“Do you wanna explain that, by the way?” Rainbow asked.

“No.”

Claret withdrew a vial of some kind of gel from a storage freezer between her hooves. Then she shook it for several seconds before carefully holding it up right in front of her horn tip. Her horn started to glow, and then there was a sharp sizzle as the contents of the vial were rapidly heated.

“Miss, could you lift the Great and Powerful one so that her head is upright, please?” Claret asked, switching spells to levitate the vial.

“Of course, Miss Apothecary,” Suuna said, reaching over the examination bed to pull Trixie into her arms again.

“That’s DOCTOR, if you please,” Claret requested while she trotted over. “I realize that nearly half of my medical knowledge and experience became horribly outdated and irrelevant with the arrival of space people, but I didn’t spend eight years in university to be called an ‘apothecary,’ thank you. Now hold her still.”

The surgeon uncorked the vial and levitated it up against Trixie’s nose, forcing the other mare to inhale it. Wisps of a thick yellow gas floated up over her muzzle, and Claret tapped the cogitator while she kept the vial hovering in place.

“That should stop any further degradation of the nerve pathways and help them recover faster. She may talk a little funny and have trouble remembering names for a week or so but she’ll be okay,” Claret assured Suuna and Serith.

“You didn’t give ME any medicine when I told you I had psychic brain damage,” Rainbow Dash said, pouting.

“It had been over ten hours since your exposure, Miss Dash. These treatments must be applied quickly in order to be effective,” Claret explained. “Besides, weren’t you JUST berating me for being overly concerned for your mental health?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know there was some kind of whacky gas I could just inhale to fix it.”

“There ISN’T. That’s what I’m trying to tell you!”

“Can I huff a dose of it just in case?”

“NO.”

Several yellow lumens flashed on the wall. Warning! Warp exit will commence in zero-point-six cycles. Prepare tactical navigation. Defensive batteries on alert.

Rainbow’s ears perked up. “What? We’re already at the next target?!” She jumped off of the examination bed and landed behind Claret. “C’mon Doc, you have to clear me for combat duty! I can’t miss out on another raid!”

“First of all: no I will not. Secondly: you didn’t miss out on a raid last time, you were assigned to TWO different raids,” Claret explained, her tone rapidly deteriorating. “And finally, we’re not heading to another target world yet, it’s something else.”

“Something else?”

“Yes. Or that’s what the public log said, anyway. I don’t really care so long as it means I’m not going to have another influx of patients,” Claret opened a drawer next to her cogitator and started rooting through it.

“We are making port at the space station Ishrem,” Serith said. “It is not a target.”

“It’s not? So we’re just stopping there to visit or something?” Rainbow asked. Then she cocked her head to the side. “Wait… if we’re not attacking it, that means it doesn’t count as a combat mission. If it doesn’t count, that means I can go, right?”

“If I said no, would you actually stay locked in your room until we left?” Claret asked bitterly, levitating an air horn out of the drawer.

“Ha! No way!” Rainbow laughed, jumping into the air and zipping toward the entrance. “Thanks for the checkup, Doc! I’ll see you later!”

“Just TRY not to show up with any new skull fractures next time, would you?” Claret asked.

The door opened, and then Rainbow zipped out into the hall.

“I suppose my own presence is… unnecessary at the moment,” Serith admitted, turning sharply so that his cape swept along behind him. “Update me once you’ve a useful diagnosis, Doctor.”

“Of course, Lord. Thank you for your assistance,” Claret said as he left the room, trying very hard to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

Suuna watched the Sorcerer leave, and then turned back to the doctor as Claret Heartthrob floated the air horn next to Trixie’s ear. “You’re not really going to do what I think you are, are you?”

Claret looked up at the human. “I can’t run any more useful tests while she’s unconscious. It’s either this or ice water, and this doesn’t leave a puddle in the examination bed.” A small glimmer of pink touched the horn while she was distracted, quickly rotating the mouth to face the opposite direction.

“Cover your ears, Miss,” Claret warned. Then her magic depressed the button on top.

The air horn promptly blasted her in the face, and Claret shrieked and recoiled in shock. She struck her back hoof on a stool, and Suuna winced as the unicorn went reeling onto the floor.

Trixie snorted irritably and then turned over, nuzzling Suuna’s arm.

Harvest of Steel
Deck 19, section C

The bulkheads groaned and trembled as the flagship translated back into realspace. Monitors and holo-screens briefly turned to static as their data feeds were disrupted and reset. The crew, trapped in the alcoves with their bodies chained and entwined in cabling, quivered and shrieked in a horrifying chorus.

The fleet has returned to the Materium, growled a vox caster. All hands prepare for entry into the asteroid field. Defensive batteries online. May the dark gods bless our path.

Gaela uttered a prayer in Binaric Cant, pressing a cybernetic hand against the bulkhead wall. The groan from the flexing substructure intensified, and frost started collecting where her hand made contact with the metal. She watched the reaction with disinterest until someone spoke behind her.

“We’ve gotta go through an asteroid field to get to this place? What’s an asteroid field?”

“It’s an area in space with numerous large rocks in a free-floating cluster. This provides protection from detection and attacks, and often the asteroids themselves are mined for water, metals, and chemicals.”

Gaela pulled her hand from the bulkhead. Equinought squadron was waiting behind her with Twilight at the head, lecturing them. Half the group of ponies were wearing their armor, while Rarity, Pinkie, and Rainbow Dash were unclothed. Spike was with them as well, wearing a tiny red vest and tool belt.

“Because asteroid fields are troublesome to patrol and more troublesome to attack, a lot of pirates establish bases there, either in their flagship vessel or space stations built in hollowed-out asteroids. At least, that’s my understanding. Am I missing anything, Gaela?” Twilight asked, turning toward the Techpriest hopefully.

“Your explanation is sufficient,” Gaela advised. “Ishrem is the latter. A space city used as a trading hub for smugglers and pirates.”

“How did assorted brigands and rabble construct a working space habitat?” Rarity asked, tilting her head to the side. “Twilight is always going on about how sophisticated your machines are and how infuriating it is that you won’t share their design openly. Do these people have Techpriests too?”

“Negative,” Gaela replied. “Indeed, as you suspect, a space station is quite beyond the ability of its owners to construct or easily maintain. Ishrem was constructed by the Imperium as a mining operation that got stranded without resupply after a Tyranid swarm destroyed the host world. The pirates moved in some sixty-eight standard solar years ago and have kept it barely habitable in the interim.”

Gaela started walking down the hall, using her axe’s haft as a walking stick. The ponies and dragon followed her eagerly, listening with varying levels of attention. “There are countless such structures throughout the galaxy, abandoned through incompetence, neglect, or circumstance. Sometimes the controlling Imperial presence is extinguished. Sometimes the Explorators gets over-exuberant in their expansion before the Calculator overseers reel them back in. Sometimes they are just forgotten somehow, the loss carelessly tallied among the truly vast toll this galaxy extracts from humanity each megacycle.” She shrugged her armored shoulders before pressing her palm against a cogitator console. “In each case, internal resources are salvaged when possible, but often the superstructure cannot be easily scuttled, or it is simply seen as an unnecessary expense. It is only a matter of time until something else finds it and makes a home of it, and it’s usually an Ork.” She snorted. “We are slightly more fortunate in the case of Ishrem.”

The next door opened, and they walked into the next section. The deck was as busy as Twilight had ever seen it, with groups of men and ponies rushing back and forth with cargo of varying sizes. A few Iron Warriors escorted their underlings, but the super-soldiers seemed like a minor presence among the sudden buzz within the flagship.

“You have no duties while we are berthed. You may remain upon the ship or visit Ishrem station,” Gaela explained while they walked among the deck traffic. “I would have to recommend you stick close to the humans if you do leave the ship; you may need one of us to explain to the residents that you aren’t xeno predators or mutant vermin.”

“I’m sure we’ll manage,” Rarity said dryly. “If this isn’t a mission, then we won’t need our armor, yes?”

“It is moderately unlikely that you will be attacked on Ishrem,” the Techpriest replied.

“That don’t exactly answer the question,” Applejack said, arching a brow.

“Use your best judgment.” Gaela paused, and then looked back at the equines. “Or for those of you whose judgment is inadequate, simply do what Sparkle says.”

“Awwww! That’s almost all of us!” Pinkie complained, kicking the floor.

“I think you should wear your armor. There aren’t many drawbacks, and it will keep you connected to everyone else and give you protection from unexpected hazards, like a depressurization event or a fire,” Twilight explained to the other mares. “We’re leaving the Dreadnaught behind, though.”

“Ugh, FINE. But I’m not taking my helmet,” Rarity insisted.

“What’re you goin’ to be doing on Ishrem, Gaela?” Applejack asked.

“As I mentioned earlier, the dregs that occupy the space station barely have the slightest idea what they’re doing when overseeing devices that maintain life support and power generation. Therefore, when a ship possessing actual Techpriests makes berth, our services command a truly desperate price,” she explained with just a hint of self-satisfaction. “Although Ishrem possesses a substantial market for docking vessels and I presume the Trademaster performs his duty within minimal acceptable parameters, the Mechanicus extracts payment directly from the station Overseer in return for maintenance and construction. As such, I have been assigned to a repair covenant.”

“Well I’m DEFINITELY going to Ishrem! Maybe they have some cool suit upgrades!” Rainbow said gleefully.

“I don’t think you’re going to find equipment in some pirate’s loot pile that’s better than what Solon made, Dash,” Twilight said.

“Okay, sure, but like… maybe I can get a bigger gun, at least. The ninja star thing is really cool but it kind of lacks the punch that you guys have.”

“Ah don’t think ya can just swap ‘em out like that,” Applejack interjected. “Ah do wanna see what they got, though. It might be nice to pick up a souvenir we didn’t have to pry outta some poor human fightin’ other poor humans in a big dark pit.”

“I wanna buy space candy!” Pinkie volunteered.

“Do whatever you wish,” Gaela advised the equines, turning in front of a door to a different room, “but recall that you embark upon this settlement under the flag of the Iron Warriors, and that your conduct will be judged accordingly.”

Fluttershy gulped, and she briefly flickered back into the visible spectrum. “Oh, so… we should be on our best behavior not to embarrass the Warsmith?”

Gaela quirked her eyebrow. “On the contrary. I meant that you can abuse that authority and the power implicit in your association at will.”

“SCORE!” Rainbow whooped, holding up a hoof. Pinkie Pie jumped up and slapped it, and the mares cackled to each other.

Although the other ponies looked slightly worried at their reaction, Gaela ignored them and opened the door in front of her. “This is where we part. I must receive my briefing and join the tech-covenant for benediction and deployment.”

“Okay! Have fun!” Twilight said brightly, lifting a boot to wave.

Gaela responded with a grunt, stepping into the room as plumes of sulphur-scented incense leaked into the hall.

“Thanks! You too!” Spike said. Then he followed Gaela inside, the door sweeping shut behind him.

Twilight gaped for a few seconds, and then her expression soured. “Spike is going with her? Nobody mentioned that!”

“Would ya have stopped him if’n they had?” Applejack asked, heading further down the corridor.

“I… well, no. But she used to ask before taking him along with her,” Twilight grumbled, following along. “And how come she never invites ME along to help on her Mechanicus covenants?”

“Ooh! Ooh! I know this one!” Pinkie said brightly, bouncing up and down. “It’s because the rest of the cult hates you for being a filthy psyker, right?”

Twilight didn’t respond or shift her expression, but her ears flattened against the side of her head while she walked.

The hall reached an open deck section near the hangar entrance. This space had crowds of humans either passing through or gathering together in groups, apparently already prepared to off board the moment the ship was docked. It was an unusual sight on the flagship; men that were normally wearing menial jumpsuits or flak armor along with rebreathers and magazine bandoleers were dressed in an assortment of drab shirts and pants with the odd jacket or hat. Many of them were armed with a pistol, but very few carried long guns or other wargear. Several large packs, satchels, and crates were carried about or stacked beside groups of men, waiting to be carried out. It was an image that would remind anyone of a normal civilian terminal at a train station, at least until they noticed the gigantic eyeball squinting down at the crowds from the ceiling.

There were few ponies gathered here, although it was easy to spot Phage Squadron from the wide berth everyone else gave them. There were even a handful of Tau gathered in a corner, although they wore their usual wargear and weaponry. Applejack took the lead, trotting toward Phage Squadron and the human leaning on a bulkhead next to them.

“Howdy, Wyatt! It’s been a while!” the farmer said brightly.

“It has! Not sorry that I missed out assaulting a xeno den, though,” the mercenary chuckled.

Daniel’s civilian clothes were more elaborate than most, consisting of a tan shirt, jacket, and good pants that were clearly not part of the standard Chaos gunman’s uniform. He was wearing a sidearm, but perplexingly it was a simple laspistol rather than the pulse pistol he used in the field. His spirits were obviously high, or at least much higher than the people behind him.

The Fireblade Jerriha was seated on a crate, looking fairly annoyed. Erin Whyd was there as well, although it looked like she had been conversing with the cultists of Phage Squadron up until the Equinoughts arrived. Jerriha, like the other Tau, was wearing combat plate and carrying her pulse carbine. Erin, like many of the other humans, was wearing an old tunic rather than combat armor.

“Are the grays visiting the station or getting ready to storm it? What’s with all the guns?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“It’s prudent to be better armed than the security on a human station,” Jerriha said, her tone icy. “The Iron Warriors were quite explicit that they would not guarantee our safety outside the ship.”

“Do you think the pirates and smugglers here would attack or kidnap you?” Twilight asked.

“I know nothing about these humans except that they’re willing to accommodate the Iron Warriors, who attacked and kidnapped us enthusiastically,” Jerriha noted.

“You did the same to us!” Rainbow Dash fumed.

“Okay, let’s not get hung up over who murdered and pillaged who,” Daniels interjected. “The point is, you don’t know how a bunch of underdeck rabble are going to handle seeing Tau warriors walking through the markets, and it’s a reasonable concern. The people around here aren’t very dangerous, but they’re not very friendly, either. Just keep those guns close; any weapon you bring on Ishrem is more likely to get stolen than used, and a bunch of powerful xenotech would be worth a fortune in a place like this.”

“By the same token I imagine it’s a good place for mercenaries to offload any ‘trophies’ they find at a better price than the Merchant Corp can provide,” Twilight reasoned.

“Absolutely. There’s sometimes good stuff to buy, but they’re usually pretty hard up for the basics. Plenty of dreamjuice and hydrastimm, not much food or power cells,” the mercenary explained with a shrug.

“Ooh, those sound tasty!” Pinkie said brightly.

“Hydrastimm tastes like engine coolant,” Erin said flatly. “Mostly on account of it being formulated from engine coolant.”

“Nice kick, though. And it’ll clear your sinuses right up,” Daniels laughed.

“Is that what you’re going to get after we dock?” Rainbow asked.

“No,” Daniels said, his expression turning very serious. “I’ll be at the brothel until we ship back out.”

Rarity and Twilight recoiled, their faces flushing. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie snickered but didn’t look disturbed. The mares of Phage Squadron perked their ears noticeably, but otherwise pretended they weren’t listening. Applejack blinked and tilted her head to the side.

“The what? What’s a brothel? That some kinda space kitchen?” Applejack asked, looking back and forth.

“It’s more like a space hotel,” Erin said with a small smile.

“Sounds borin’, but Ah guess that’s a nice change of pace to life in the barracks,” Applejack seemed to accept this explanation with a shrug and lose interest.

“I do hope there’s SOME… upscale services available here,” Rarity said carefully. “It feels like ages since I’ve had a spa treatment. The one in Ferrous Dominus was mediocre, but there isn’t one on the Harvest at all!”

Erin and Jerriha looked as confused as Applejack had been. They looked over at Daniels, who smirked slightly.

“The ‘spa’ is a place for decadent bathing rituals enjoyed by the pony elite,” Daniels explained, winking at Rarity. “I’m sure Imperium nobles have something like it too, but it’s a bit too trifling for us mercs and ratings. It’s like a sanitation cloister, but with attendants and weird exercises and fancy crèmes and such to make your hair all nice. Supposed to be relaxing.”

Rarity smirked back. “I’m still disappointed I couldn’t talk you into a session back in Ponyville. I’m sure that even human skin could use a bit more care than you offer it, and Aloe said she needed a study subject to develop a good primate treatment!”

“’Primate treatment.’ Right. Not seeing a lot of takers with that,” Daniels mumbled.

“Sounds like a pointless indulgence, but it’s one of the more harmless sorts, I suppose,” Jerriha said, frowning. “Obviously you wouldn’t find one on any sort of military vessel, much less…” she looked up uneasily, and the giant eye on the ceiling blinked at her. “… THIS.”

“Is there a service like that at Ishrem?” Erin asked, intrigued.

“I don’t know. Maybe? The staff at the ‘space hotel’ probably need to gussy up somewhere, right?” Daniels said wryly. “But if they did, how would you pay for it? You just joined up. They accept all kinds of currency on Ishrem, from credits to thrones to plasteel ingots to Militarum scrip, as long as it’s from a nearby sector regiment. The one thing the residents NEVER accept is promises.”

“What, you’re not going to treat the new kid?” Erin asked, pouting.

“New kid my arse. You probably got more kills than I did before we left Ghessheim,” Daniels snorted.

“Right, but I wasn’t working for anyone at the time. Cut me a break, soldier!”

“WAIT,” Rainbow Dash yelped, landing on the ground with a shocked expression. “I don’t have any money either!”

“I think I have some bits in the walker. Do they take bits?” Pinkie asked.

“They’re not going to take a regional currency from a planet they’ve never heard of, Pinkie,” Twilight explained. “We’re not on contract, so we don’t draw a salary. We’re not mercenaries.”

“Not all of us,” Rarity corrected. After a few awkward seconds, she clarified. “I am on a contract. So I suppose I am a mercenary. Technically.”

“What?! You mean we could be getting paid for this?! I thought we were fighting for Equestria’s survival or something!” Rainbow said.

“We are. But generosity isn’t cheap, darling,” Rarity explained with a wink. “Speaking of which, I’m going to go get ready. I need to check in with Delgan’s ship to find out the docking schedule. I’ll see you all later.”

The unicorn turned and trotted back toward the main deck, humming to herself. Rainbow pouted as she departed, her ears pinning back against her head.

“Ponyfeathers! I can’t believe we could have been earning a wage all this time but no one said anything,” the pegasus grumbled, kicking her hoof against the deck.

Pinkie Pie nodded sadly. Twilight Sparkle shrugged. Fluttershy remained invisible. Applejack studiously avoided eye contact.

“You didn’t tell ‘em, did you?” Daniels asked, reaching over and flicking Applejack’s ear.

“APPLEJACK?! You’re on a contract too?!” Rainbow shouted, leaping up and landing on top of her terminator armor cowl. She craned her head down so that she was glaring at the farmer eye-to-eye and upside-down. “Why were you and Rarity keeping this a secret?!”

“We weren’t! Ah didn’t know y’all were fightin’ fer free! It never came up!” Applejack protested. “Ah just looked into compensation ‘cuz Ah wanted to send money to the farm when we got back!”

“Why ARE you serving if you’re not getting paid?” Erin asked.

“We swore our service to the Company to cement the alliance between Equestria and the Iron Warriors,” Twilight said. “The Company gives us room and board, and the dataslates are free, so it never really occurred to me. What would I spend the money on?”

“That was kinda my thinking too, until now,” Rainbow huffed, hopping off of Applejack and onto the deck. “I didn’t know there were going to be alien markets, though! Also we didn’t get to do any looting last mission and the treasure we got was a total dud!”

“As for me, my earnings all go to the lease on the Dreadnought,” Pinkie sighed.

“What? Really?” Twilight asked, her eye widening.

“No. But I think that sounds pretty good for the next time someone asks how I got it.”

Erin heard the sound of power armored greaves approaching behind her. Phage Squadron reached the edge of the group and Poison Kiss cleared her throat to interject.

“Our service is a religious observance, so we too find ourselves a bit down and out,” she said. “Our lord Nurgle and our benefactors the Iron Warriors give us so much that we can hardly whinge about it, but a stipend would be nice…”

Erin glanced over at Jerriha. The Fireblade noticed and glared back.

“We’re slaves,” Jerriha said bluntly.

“Y’all sure don’t act like slaves,” Applejack mumbled.

“I’m not going to argue about the nuances of our indefinite obligation to fight for Chaos pirates so that we don’t have to choke to death in the mines instead,” the alien sniffed, “but if you want an explanation of our compensation agreement, ‘slave’ will do.”

A deep rumble came from the bulkheads, and then a pounding noise echoed through the substructure.

“Defensive cannons. We’re well into the asteroid field now,” Jerriha said.

“I should go get my armor,” Rainbow Dash mumbled, turning around and trudging toward the entrance. “I just wish I had some money!”

“Well I don’t see much help for you,” Daniels shrugged. “Unless you happen to be close personal friends with someone who is rich and generous. Or is rich and can be badgered into generosity.”

Rainbow halted, her eyes lighting up in epiphany.

Harvest of Steel
Deck 23, section A-6

Kaelith clicked his melta-cutters together in agitation. +Analytic: Service detail has been inloaded and the objective register is… underwhelming. Estimated time until project completion is 28.17% of expected work cycles allocated. Conclusive: This diversion from operational status will be substantially shorter than anticipated,+ he explained in a brief blast of static.

“Why ish that? Do they lack the reshourcesh to pay us? Or are they jusht in unushually good repair thish time?” Solon asked, the deck trembling as he moved down the hall.

+Data not found,+ Kaelith hissed. +Explanatory: Initial communications with relay node were unable to reach station master. The adjunct did not respond to our interrogatives.+

“Well, we’ll earn enough to fuel the resht of the fleet and take in shome raw materialsh. No point presshing if timesh are lean.” Solon stopped at the next heavy access door, and a rumble rolled through the bulkhead as the seal deactivated and the blast plates opened.

Rainbow Dash (in her armor this time), Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and the three mares of Phage Squadron were standing on the other side, their necks craned up to look at him.

“Can we have an allowance?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“I think Mister Daniels was actually thinking of the Trademaster,” Breezy Blight said, “but this is a much better idea!”

Solon stared down at the equines silently for several seconds while Kaelith sputtered angrily in some derivative scrapcode dialect. Then he leaned over to the cogitator panel and poked a big black button.

“Hey! Wait! Come on, Sol!” Rainbow shouted as the door’s manual override engaged, slamming the armored barriers shut between her and the Warsmith.

“I don’t anticipate any problemsh if we depart ahead of shchedule.” Solon swiveled completely around on his chassis, and then the crab-like legs began scuttling backward, taking him back down the hall. “Ash long ash we get our fuel and thoshe reagentsh you wanted.”

+Affirmative.+ The two cybernetic monstrosities scuttled back up the hall, the sounds of mechanical legs pounding on the deck ringing through the halls. It was several minutes until Kaelith spoke again. +Interrogative: Are you certain this intelligence on the Dark Eldar is… accurate? Analytic: The stratagem vector is sound. However, a minor inaccuracy in risk assessment is likely to lead to substantial losses.+

“I do not believe the coordinatesh Shparkle got were a trap, no. Commoragh ish dangeroush enough that it ishn’t going to invite unwary aggresshorsh whether or not the xenosh realize they are exposhed.”

+Admonition: You did not recognize that object 811 was a component of a daemonic plot against our Equiss contingent. Greater caution is advised.+

“Are you shuggeshting that all the data within the Deshtiny Cube ish alsho a trap?” Solon asked.

+Contra: Object 811 is an octahedron, not a cube,+ Kaelith hissed. Then he continued. +Analytic: The apparent hostility of daemonic forces to certain individuals in our Equiss detachment is poorly understood. It would appear unit Sparkle is a key target, not a victim of opportunity. Conclusive: Further research is required to determine the cause of this specific emnity.+

“Why? What do you intend to do if you find the caushe?” Solon asked.

+Explanatory: If we understand the depth of their enmity, it may be possible to negotiate a price.+

“A price,” Solon said flatly, “for my sholdier.”

+Affirmative. Addendum: Daemons have many useful offerings, and it is rare that mortals possess something they desire so keenly. Exploratory measures are warranted.”

“I could certainly shtand to parley with daemonsh and extract more of their power and knowledge. Shuch thingsh are hardly beneath me.” Solon swiveled to glare at Kaelith through the bloody red of his optics, “but that ish not what the daemonsh want, ish it? They have not contacted me for bargaining, they have asshaulted my ship and infiltrated our objectivesh. They sheek to shteal ftom me, Magosh. Thish I will not tolerate.”

+Concordance: Daemonic entities have engaged in a manner consistent with their typically bestial stratagems. Conclusive: Again, more research is required to determine proximate goals and determine a means of productive engagement.+

“Tell me what you would need for shuch reshearch,” Solon allowed as he reached another set of doors.

+Requisition: Unit Twilight Sparkle.+

“No,” Solon answered curtly.

The melta-cutters under Kaelith’s hood quivered and scratched against each other irritably like an insect’s mandibles. +Rationale?+

“You know why,” Solon retorted. “You may not like the anshwer, but it bindsh you all the shame. I will not entrusht Shparkle to your care.”

The blast doors opened. Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Phage Squadron stood on the other side. The ponies all had their ears pinned back now, and were staring up at him with big, wet eyes on the verge of tears (Rot Blossom’s eyes were obscured by her mane as usual, but Solon assumed she was adopting the same expression).

“C’mon Sol! Pleeeeeeeease?” Rainbow Dash begged.

“I don’t shupposhe a different pony would sherve ash an acceptable reshearch shacrifice?” Solon asked, turning to look at Kaelith.

+Negative,+ the Dark Magos spat.

“Unfortunate,” Solon started forward again, heedless of the ponies that stood in his way.

Rainbow Dash yelped and leapt to the side, shoving Fluttershy out of the way of the huge, metal legs that clambered across the deck. Breezy Blight jumped up into the air to avoid being trampled, while Poison Kiss and Rot Blossom scrambled toward the wall to clear a space. Pinkie was the only mare that didn’t completely clear Solon’s path, jumping out of the way of one leg and then rolling under another. With each dodge she made a little “hyah!” noise, and she quickly disappeared under the Warsmith’s chassis.

“It may be prudent to shtudy the apparent grudge that daemonic invadersh have for my shervantsh, but I will not have their livesh reshting in your handsh. Perhapsh I shall commisshion Shparkle hershelf to shtudy it. She may have inshightsh that we had not conshidered.”

Kaelith followed in the Warsmith’s wake, bypassing the armored ponies without a glance. +Contra: It is unlikely unit Sparkle possesses any such knowledge that she has not already divulged to you or Dark Techpriest Gaela. Addendum: She lacks requisite expertise in daemonology and divine lore. Her skills are inadequate.+

“You have a point, but my decishion shtandsh,” Solon said decisively.

Then a hatch on top of his chassis popped open, and Pinkie Pie stuck her head out. Kaelith recoiled, his body shooting up to twice its normal walking height and numerous laser cutters starting to glow.

“No money in here, guys,” Pinkie announced while she crawled out, “just locusts.”

“Hey! Get out of there!” Solon stopped and swiveled around, shaking his fist at the pony before she jumped off of him. “I don’t have any currency! Why would I?!”

“Because you’re the boss,” Rainbow said hesitantly. “That means you’re rich, right?”

“No, it doeshn’t!” Solon snapped. Then he hesitated. “Well… not exactly. It doeshn’t work like that. I do not control reshourcesh in termsh of shimple wealth, ash you or Trademashter Delgan would.”

+Suspension: This topic is highly unproductive,+ Kaelith complained. +Executive: Cease this prattling diversion at once. We must review objectives for the upcoming operation.+

“Yesh, fine, we’ll get to that, we’re not in a hurry,” Solon replied.

“Wait wait wait, are you telling me you don’t get paid? Even though you’re the boss?!” Rainbow asked, looking shocked.

“I don’t earn a shalary like a mere mercenary, no,” the Warsmith scoffed.

“Solon is POOR?!” Breezy yelped.

“Of courshe not. I own all of you, for shtartersh,” the Warsmith retorted.

“We’re all poor too!” Rainbow complained. “Doesn’t anyone in the fleet have money other than Delgan?”

A harsh blast of static suddenly erupted from Kaelith, and he darted ahead. He scuttled away down the hall, several buzzing and sparking noises coming from within his hood.

“What hash HIM in shuch a mood?” Solon grumbled, his chassis finally turning around to address the equines. “Anyway. I have accessh to the vasht majority of the fleet’sh war reshourcesh. Metalsh, chemicalsh, munitionsh, and technology. Mere currency ish ushelessh to me. That ish why I command a merchant to conduct and organize commerce: to manage shuch thingsh and turn them into more raw materialsh for my forge and the Legion’sh bulwarksh.”

“Okay, I get it, but like… what if you were just walking through Canterlot or Ishrem and wanted to buy a really cool thing you saw at a booth or something? What would you do then?” Rainbow asked. The other mares also stared up at him intently, awaiting the answer.

“I… Well… It hashn’t come up. But I shupposhe I could parley with my wargear. Mosht of it ish very valuable though, sho if the market object wash of inshufficient price I could… ah… trade ammunition? That hash trade value, right? I carry lotsh of that,” the hulking Astartes said uncertainly.

Pinkie Pie leaned over and gently patted Solon on the leg.

“I’m not poor,” the Warsmith reiterated firmly, a puff of exhaust blasting from his smokestacks.

“… If we can’t have any money, can I have one of the locusts, please?” Rot Blossom asked hesitantly.

“Ugh, FINE.”

Solon reached down toward Pinkie Pie, seizing her by the tail and picking her up. The pink mare blinked owlishly as she was lifted to hang upside-down, and then shouted in surprise when Solon started shaking her violently in the air. The other mares recoiled, but Blossom’s ears perked up in delight when she saw a tiny, squirming yellow body fall out of Pinkie’s voluminous mane and drop onto the deck.

“Thank you, Warsmith!” Blossom chirped excitedly, placing her boot on the deck next to the bug. “As ever, you bless these unworthy servants with your gifts!” The insect jumped onto her greaves and scuttled up the side, eventually disappearing into some gap or pocket under the armor’s shoulder plate.

“You’re welcome.” Solon tossed Pinkie Pie aside and then finally started heading down the hall again. “We are entering the heart of the ashteroid field now. The Harvesht will be docked within the hour. If you wish to depart for the shtation you should finish your preparationsh now. You don’t have long to beg anyone elshe for thingsh.”

“Also I should probably take a quick shower,” Pinkie admitted as she stood up dizzily.

“Prudent. Goodbye.”

Cerrus asteroid cluster D-8
Mining nexus Ishrem
(Status: Non-viable as of Imperial records date 39.831.752)

The Harvest of Steel cruised steadily through the web of asteroids, its path following a series of empty, inactive beacon stations that marked the route. The smaller vessels of the fleet followed in a tight cluster trailing in the flagship’s wake, their path lit by the bright violet glow of the Harvest’s engines.

Enormous, jagged hunks of rock and ice surrounded the pirate vessels above, beneath, and to both sides, forming a daunting barrier to any who would stray from the path. There were many gaps among the free-floating rocks large enough for any of the vessels to navigate into, but to leave the route laid by the markers was to risk being trapped within a shell of navigational hazards with no space to turn. Even the main route was littered with small rocks that constantly cracked against the armor of the Harvest of Steel before being hurled away into the greater part of the field.

Eventually the fleet reached the core. A large gap within the asteroid field allowed for relatively normal ship movements around a large asteroid that floated in the middle. This particular piece of rock was several times larger than the Harvest, and boasted numerous metal protrusions mounted all over; antennae, domes, bulbs, and pipes jutted from the base, many of them in a visibly disastrous state of repair.

There were other ships in the area as well, although they were dwarfed by the megafreighter and its escorts. A pair of cutters probably belonging to smugglers were docked on spires adjacent to the main hangar bay, and numerous transport shuttles floated back and forth between the station and the mining pods attached to the surrounding asteroids like large metal ticks. Garbage sputtered from parts of the base, streaming away into the void in a thin, slimy trail that wound into the surrounding field. Near the trash vents was a series of heavy macro-cranes and salvage shredders for taking apart decommissioned vessels and making repairs to damaged ones. The machines were in terrible shape, shuddering with every movement and visibly bleeding plasma from parts that were not supposed to vent heat.

There were few defense batteries, and some half of the guns that hadn’t been scrapped already were inactive for want of parts or munitions. As bad as the main cannons were, they were not nearly as shambolic as the patrol fighters that buzzed about the core area perimeter and constantly checked the largest asteroids for drift. The tiny scrap-built craft were horribly slow and had threadbare life support on the miraculous occasions that all the systems booted completely. The only thing impressive about the fighters were the heavy “meteor melter” fission torpedoes that they occasionally used to crack open and divert asteroids that were on a trajectory to collide with Ishrem; impressive tools of destruction, at least when used on inert hunks of rock and ice.

The Harvest of Steel paid the defenses no mind, slowly wheeling into position at the mouth of the station hangar. Mag-clamps emerged from the hull, slamming into place on the side of the station while hundreds of retro-boosters fired to bring the flagship to a stop. The engines dimmed, finally allowed to rest, and deployment gantries extended into the asteroid’s berth.

Mining nexus Ishrem
Docking bay

Twilight emerged from the access gantry hesitantly, breaking from the line of soldiers and menials flooding into the hangar. She had her helmet on and a small satchel hanging from the side of her armor. The force harmonizer was securely mag-locked to the other side, and secured further under a wire clamp fit to the seams of the plating. She was as ready as she could be.

The other Equinoughts followed, stopping behind the Princess to stare at the yawning interior of the station. Pinkie alone was unarmored and unencumbered, and her mane was also slightly damp. Fluttershy followed invisibly, the only indication of her presence being a series of tapping hoofsteps that followed Rarity just slightly out of sync. Rarity and Rainbow Dash were armored but not wearing their helmets, which Twilight thought was slightly reckless when there was open void barely twenty feet away behind the hangar’s particle screen.

“Wowee… would ya look at this place…” Applejack breathed, stopping next to Twilight.

The view wasn’t exactly nice, but it was certainly impressive. Massive cylinders of metal stretched from floor to ceiling, their exteriors riddled with windows and lights. Bridges, structures, and in some places entire decks were attached to the columns, stretching out to the other sections and walls. Underneath the cylinders was a veritable city of smaller structures. Some of them were sturdy and purpose-built facilities that had been repurposed, while others had been hammered together from scrap metal and garbage. Dimly-lit track lumens and flickering holo-screens pulsed over the tin-paneled trackways winding between the buildings, creating a sense of desperate urban glamor that contrasted wildly with the massive stone crags jutting from the outer walls. There was a sort of crude majesty to it all; without the industrial might of the Adeptus or Dark Mechanicus, the residents had made their living from the leavings of an empire that would crush them in an instant, if it could be bothered. Yet despite its difficulties and limitations the facility still maintained a more dignified and functional presentation than any Ork camp or workshop.

“Okay, so… should we check out the market? I know most of us don’t have money, but it would be a good place to visit, right?” Twilight asked, turning around. “Wherever we go, we should stick together. This isn’t a mission, of course, but it might still be dangerous.”

“The market sounds like a grand idea, darling,” Rarity said brightly, trotting out ahead. “After that, let’s look for that spa. If there is one I’m sure I can cover the charge for all of us.”

“I doubt there’s a beautician in this trash heap, but if there is do you really think they’d serve xenos?” Jerriha asked.

The ponies all stopped, and then, as one, they slowly turned around to look behind them.

“… What? It’s a fair question. I assume we’d be under the same scrutiny,” Jerriha explained, sounding slightly indignant. There were four other Fire Warriors behind her, all of them in full armor with their weapons at the ready. They glanced about the station interior with a visibly defensive posture, as if they weren’t completely sure whether or not they had reached a war zone.

“Can we help you, Shas’vre?” Twilight asked with a slight dry edge. “If you want a tour of Ishrem, you should probably ask a human. We’ve never been here.”

“I’m aware,” the Tau said. “I was thinking we’d tag along with you.”

“What? Why?” Rainbow asked.

“Because we’re all aliens to these people,” Jerriha replied, as if it should be obvious. “There’s a much smaller chance of any unpleasant eventualities if we combine our numbers.” After a pause, she added, “Besides, we’re all much better armed than any of the humans. If we were to tag along with the grunts we would look like their guard retinue or something.”

“Y’all are weird, y’know that?” Applejack griped. Then she turned around. “If ya wanna follow us then we ain’t gonna stop ya. Just don’t go startin’ no trouble and expectin’ us to help.”

“The warning is mutual,” the Fireblade retorted. “… Anyway, thank you.”

The ponies walked across the hangar platform toward Ishrem’s interior, the Tau following them several feet behind. There were numerous people on the deck that weren’t from the fleet, most of them moving crates or simply watching the new arrivals. Most of these individuals stared in disbelief and fascination at the ponies disembarking the ship, and several moved toward the crush of humans to ask about the colorful aliens.

“Hey, Princess!” came a shout from above.

Many of the spectators flinched or ducked, as if the sudden call was a gunshot. Lightning Dust flew over Equinought Squadron, and then turned around in the air to face them while sliding up her tcactical visor.

“That’s a lot of firepower you girls are packing! You on escort duty too?”

Twilight tilted her head to the side. “No, we’re not on assignment. You are?”

“Yeah! There’s some kind of slum for the bottom-feeders around here so we’re gonna go recruiting and proselytizing and stuff down there.” Lightning Dust lifted her lasgun. “Have fun! Hopefully we finish quickly so I can check out the main city too!”

Lightning Dust swiveled around and zipped away, and the spectators from Ishrem again ducked in fright as if she was about to dive-bomb them. Several other ponies broke from the main flow of passengers to follow her, walking in a loose formation. There was an outer ring that was composed of soldiers in full wargear, and in the center were a couple of cabal unicorns. Mantis was recognizable from his goat-like horns and the autobrace he wore on his broken leg. After a few seconds Twilight caught sight of a pair of magenta glasses beneath the other hood, suggesting the other cultist was Vinyl Scratch.

“Proselytizing to the sub-decks, huh? Well, good luck to them,” Twilight murmured while she continued onward.

“It sounds, er… fascinating, but I think we spent enough time crawling around in the dark and confronting misshapen scoundrels recently,” Rarity opined. “Some time in well-lit environs confronting ordinary scoundrels will be a nice change of pace.”

“Speakin’ o’ which, we should get some directions rather’n wanderin’ the city,” Applejack nudged her head toward a random fellow in a spacer jumpsuit, and the man flinched at the sight of her long, metal tusks jabbing in his direction. “Hey, any y’all know the way to the market?”

The man hesitated, glancing over at his fellow crew. They were grimly studying Applejack’s heavy flamer, and some were calmly moving to a more convenient position to flee if necessary.

“You some kinda… x… xeno pets for the Chaos guys?” the man replied, his voice cracking slightly. A burning stick of some foul-smelling substance was clenched between his teeth, and a small puff of dark smoke spurted from the tip as he spoke.

“Something like that, yes,” Twilight replied. “Is that a problem, Sir?”

“I reckon it isn’t, so long as you can talk and you can pay.” The spacer took another deep drag on the stick, a nervous shudder rolling through his body. “You here for the scrap market, slave market, weapons market, or the spice market?”

“Spice market? You do a lot of cooking up here?” Pinkie asked, her eyes lighting up.

“I believe that’s a slang term for mind-altering substances,” Jerriha noted, “and we’re quite well-equipped already. Scrap market, then.”

“Right. It’s up the lower spool, next to the hydrator engines,” the man pointed toward one end of the base’s interior. “It’s pretty big, you can’t miss it. All sorts of junk for sale. Also sells food and normal trade goods around there.”

Twilight nodded. “Right. Thank you.” Then she paused before tilting her head slightly. “You said you had a slave market?”

“Barely,” scoffed the spacer, pausing to take another long drag from the strange stick. “The stock around here is terrible. But if it’s warm bodies you’re looking for and you’re not particular about what they can do, you’ll find the dealers on the edge of the array over there. There’s a disused reactor pit they set up in.” He pointed toward a location on the opposite side of the base from the scrap market.

“I see… thank you,” Twilight said evenly before turning away.

Then Rainbow Dash coughed. “Well, since you know all the markets, we might as well get the other locations. You know, in case we just want to see-“

“Spice market is middle of the central spool, on the platform that melds with the bulkhead,” the spacer interrupted. “Watch yourself up there; security is pretty twitchy.”

“Great! Thanks!” Dash said brightly before moving to follow Twilight.

“So just to control expectations here, we’re not going to buy drugs,” Twilight warned as they walked into the ramshackle “streets” of Ishrem.

“Of course not! I just wanted to know where they keep them!” the pegasus protested.

Pinkie Pie lifted a hoof and grinned, and then Rainbow smiled back and touched her boot against it. This did not help reassure Twilight as to their intentions.

“I still want to find a beauty parlor, if they have one,” Rarity advised. “I’ll ask around at this scrap market place.”

“Yes, but first I want to visit the slave pit,” Twilight said, lowering her voice.

“Oh, okay.” Applejack paused. “… Why?”

Twilight glanced back and forth briefly, ensuring none of the humans were within earshot. “Piracy.”

“What? Wait, you mean…” Rarity looked alarmed as she trailed off, and Twilight answered her with a sharp nod. “Twilight, you’re going to get us thrown out of here!”

“Maybe. Wouldn’t it be worth it?” the Princess asked.

“Ah reckon it would, but do we have to do it first thing?” Applejack walked up alongside Twilight and leaned over best she could to whisper. “What exactly are the rules ‘round here? What kind of trouble are we walkin’ into? We gonna have the entire station gunnin’ fer us?”

“My understanding is that most of the security here is decentralized, with only large or indiscriminate disruptions subject to organized suppression and retaliation,” Twilight said back. “But we don’t need to do anything yet. I want to get a look at the slave market first.”

“To check out the defenses?” Pinkie asked, now crouched on top of Applejack for some reason.

“Yes. It’s something I’ve read about in detective stories: just like armies need to scout out the opposition first, criminals will often visit and study a target first to understand how to proceed with a heist.”

“And now we’re the criminals. Ugh,” Rarity groaned.

“Well, yes, but it’s for a good cause,” Twilight retorted. “If we’re going to be lawless brigands and thieves, we should at least steal from evildoers when we get the chance, right?”

“What are you equines whispering about over there?” Jerriha asked.

The ponies all stopped talking, suddenly remembering that there was a squad of Fire Warriors behind them. Twilight suddenly jumped up and shifted into a hover, swiveling around to face the Fireblade while still following her friends.

“Shas’vre, about our earlier mutual agreement not to help if one of us started any trouble…” Twilight began, coughing meaningfully. “I would like to renegotiate those terms.”

Jerriha hesitated, and then crossed her arms over her chest. “You want to rob the spice market, don’t you?”

“No,” Twilight replied, chuckling.

“Maybe later,” Pinkie added.

“NO,” Twilight reiterated with less amusement.

“All right, equine,” Jerriha stepped closer to the Princess and leaned in over her, “I’m listening.”

Mining nexus Ishrem
Interior deck 3-9
Tertiary spool

“Well, well, look who it is! Again the mighty warrior graces us void dregs with his presence! Ha!”

“You running off to the women the moment you get on deck, Daniels? Don’t even have time to say hi to yer mates?”

Wyatt Daniels slowed his pace at the sounds of heckling and glanced over at the men who had shouted to him. They were seated next to a water pipe slowly drizzling its contents onto the ground, and one of the men was watching a backpack-sized canister fill from the drainage while the other sat on a railing.

“Which void dregs do I have the honor of speaking to today, specifically? It’s been a while and I didn’t spend much of the last visit sober,” Daniels replied, his hand resting on his holstered laspistol.

“You mean you forgot your old buddy Talgard? And after I paid for most of that drink, too!” grunted the man filling the canister.

“I don’t remember your name, but I remember that I bought my own grog after taking some fool’s savings in a card game,” Daniels scoffed. “I’m busy now, but if you’ve scraped together some more money I can win it from you later.”

“Don’t feel like you need to cut your cuddling time short on our account, merc,” sneered Talgard. Then he glanced at something over Daniels’ shoulder. “What about your lady friend there? Does she play?”

Daniels at first thought it was a joke or a trick to get him to turn around, but then the subject of the question replied.

“I’m probably pretty rusty and all I’ve got to bet with are a handful of ration tins, but I know the rules.” Erin Whyd stood at the corner behind Daniels, leaning against the wall of a metal shack.

“No money, eh? Looks like even the mighty warriors of Chaos are falling on hard times,” snickered the other man. “What’s your name, love? I’m Karvel.”

“You can call me Whyd,” Erin said, walking up next to Daniels.

“And what’s a lovely little thing like you doing in a heap like this?” Karvel continued, leaning forward.

“A heap? It’s rather cozy compared to what I’m used to,” Erin laughed. Then she stepped up next to Daniels and waved at them. “We have an appointment right now, but I’ll check back if I have time for cards, all right?”

“’We?’ What’s this ‘we’ stuff? I don’t know you,” Daniels retorted, stepping away warily.

“We’re part of the same army!” Erin protested.

“That doesn’t mean you’re with me,” Daniels said firmly.

“Are those armored, four-legged xenos with you, then?” Talgard asked.

Daniels heard the sound of metal scraping against metal and he whirled around. Poison Kiss, Breezy Blight, and Rot Blossom were on the other side of the shack, peeking around the corner. Blossom ducked back, as if she was trying to hide, but Breezy didn’t bother and Kiss waved coyly.

“No. They’re not with me. None of them are with me,” Daniels said decisively. He turned away and started to walk off.

“What… What are they?” Talgard asked. The two men were visibly wary now, although they were less spooked by the appearance of small, armored alien creatures and more by the very visible guns that were attached to their legs.

“Why don’t you walk over and ask them? I’m busy,” the mercenary grumbled, continuing on his way.

Daniels walked through the residential plaza, approaching one of the large columns that spanned the height of the mining nexus. The “streets” of Ishrem didn’t have many people out and about, and more than half of them were from the 38th Company’s fleet like he was. Mercenaries and menials bearing the Chaos amulets that served as their identification tags wandered about the asteroid base like awestruck tourists, with small groups of men often followed by a few ponies. The residents of Ishrem, usually happy to approach new arrivals for trade, begging, or some old-fashioned theft, seemed unusually subdued on this occasion. Daniels saw several of them watching him and the other arrivals from behind windows or railings, and unlike the men at the water pipe none of them bothered to call out or greet him.

Daniels assumed that part of this new caution was the ponies. The equines trotting through the shacks and stills (and occasionally flying over them to the higher decks) were aliens, after all, even if they were almost obnoxiously friendly. And many of them were also psykers, which would become evident the moment a unicorn needed to move something.

Then again, it could also be because some of them were hauling around wargear comparable to a Space Marine.

Daniels stopped and whirled around, glaring down the path behind him. Erin and Phage Squadron, who were following some 20 feet behind him on the main avenue, immediately stopped and looked away in different directions, as if they were idly marveling at the scenery.

“Why are you lot following me?” Daniels demanded.

“It’s a coincidence,” Erin said. “We’re just headed to the same place.”

“You’re going to the brothel?”

“What? Do they not serve my kind there?” Erin asked, planting a fist on her hip.

“That type being ‘destitute refugee,’ no, they don’t,” Daniels scoffed. Then he lowered his gaze to Poison Kiss. “I don’t think they serve ponies, either.”

“We’re just a mite curious, is all,” Kiss assured him.

“We don’t know a lot about human sexuality. You guys don’t really like to talk about it, and there aren’t many women in the fleet to begin with,” Blossom added.

Breezy ruminated for a few seconds, scraping her boot against the chin of her helmet. “So you don’t think they serve ponies? You’re not sure?”

“Breezy, lass, simmer down,” Kiss retorted. “These blokes haven’t even seen a pony before. And we don’t have any scratch, remember?”

“Ugh. Fine. What do I care?” Daniels grumbled, turning back around and trudging further up the path. “You came all this way, may as well get a classic Ishrem visitor experience!”

“The experience of its brothel?” Erin asked.

“The experience of getting booted from a storefront because you’re broke,” the mercenary corrected.

“Oh, how nostalgic! That’s also a classic Adrast experience!” Erin chuckled. “The more things change, the more they stay the same, eh?”

“You humans are so obsessed with economy,” Breezy grumbled as she sped up to trot alongside Daniels. “Everywhere you go it’s commerce and contracts and quotas and production and murder!”

“That last one isn’t really economic,” Erin said. “Very important, but not a productive form of activity or management of resources.”

“Of course it is! We’re pirates!” Daniels scoffed.

“You’d trade for the booty if you could,” she argued. “If not, then why is the fleet letting the crew loose in here rather than charging in the Astartes to kill the owners and strip the place?”

Daniels didn’t have an immediate answer to that, but Rot Blossom suddenly piped up. “Speaking of Astartes, I didn’t see any at the dock. Aren’t they going to visit Ishrem? I only saw humans, ponies, and a few DarkMech leave the Harvest. Oh, and those Fire Warriors too.”

“I’m sure a few will come on board. If I recall, the Warsmith usually deals with the station head personally. But otherwise they don’t bother. Waste of time if there’s no killing to do.” Daniels shrugged.

“That’s a mite bleak, innit?” Kiss asked. “They have no interest in baubles or delicacies or games or drugs or…” she trailed off and nudged her head in the direction they were walking.

“Nope. And we’re all better for it, if you ask me,” Daniels grunted. “Amenities and entertainment for us wee, fragile mortals, confinement and prayer for the lords of Chaos.”

“I’ll bet money would be less of a sticking point with an Iron Warrior tagging along, though,” Erin mumbled.

“If you think so, feel free to go back to the ship and ask,” Daniels replied.

“Worse they can do is say no!” Kiss said brightly.

“They can do much, much worse than that, actually. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Why are all these people here, anyway? How do you end up actually living in a place like this?” Breezy asked.

“There are worse places, honestly, although even a lousy world usually has oxygen and gravity outside the primary habitation zones. If the main reactor fails here, there’s nowhere to go except to beg, sneak, or fight your way onto a docked ship.” Daniel scratched the back of his head and sighed. “As for where they come from, some of them are pirates like us, some are the unlucky offspring of pirates like us, and nearly all the rest are refugees.”

“Like her?” Blossom asked, nudging her head toward Erin.

“There’s a lot of us throughout the Imperium. Criminals, heretics, and honest folk who were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Erin sighed. “There’s a lot of men and resources devoted to hunting us, but there’s always more victims than enforcers and holes in every dragnet. Some of us always get away.”

“Of course, there’s not a lot of places to go if the Imperium wants to murder you. Chaos fleets are hard to come by and not known for their hospitality, xenos will kill you just as surely as any Imperial patrol, and it’s pretty hard to survive without the resources of a proper civilization to support and defend human life.” Daniels smiled and looked up at the tower ahead of them, stretching from floor to ceiling and dotted with slim, opaque windows. “Still, the galaxy’s a big place and humans are pretty good at finding little nooks of it to live in.”

“Our planet is a ‘xeno’ planet and we’re not hostile to humans,” Kiss said once the mercenary was finished. She sounded genuinely offended at the prospect, which Erin and Daniels found positively heartwarming.

“Technically it’s a Chaos world now,” Daniels corrected her with a smirk, “but the hospitality is outstanding, I’ll give you that.”

They reached a small plaza that surrounded one of the great columns and was separated from the rest of the area by a tarnished railing. There were many men loitering about, almost all of them bearing the Chaos Star that identified them as servants of the 38th Company. A pair of large guards – prominently armed but also dressed in moderately clean, well-fit uniforms – were moving through the customers, asking them questions, and jotting down notes on their dataslates. Daniels hopped the railing, and almost immediately one of the guards spotted him and approached.

“Mister Daniels, it’s a pleasure to see your safe return. Welcome once again to Hunter’s Den,” the man announced.

A respirator mask and flight goggles completely obscured his face, and otherwise clashed with his clean, bright blue jacket and slacks, but the outfit seemed very appropriate for a voidborne establishment that mostly catered to criminals and addicts. Even more so with the pair of stub pistols secured in twin holsters at his belt.

“Thanks for having me! How’s the wait time?” the mercenary asked brightly.

“Terrible, like every time your master’s ship makes port here,” the guard huffed. “We triple the rates, but it barely slows you mongrels down.”

Daniels was about to say something else, but the guard suddenly stepped to the side and his free hand moved to his holster. “What are these things? They came from your ship, didn’t they?!”

Phage squadron had been watching quietly from outside the railing, and they recoiled in alarm as the man approached and drew his stub pistol. “Why aren’t your xeno beasts caged? Or at least restrained?! You’re going to get someone killed letting them run about the place!”

“Keep yer hair on,” Poison Kiss huffed, staring directly at the man through the glowing crimson lens of her visor, “we’re proper members of the cult, not feral riff-raff.”

The guard was obviously surprised to hear the alien speak perfectly intelligible (if not strangely accented) Gothic, but it didn’t deter him. “Intelligent xenos. Fine. That doesn’t make you less dangerous. Quite the opposite.”

“Rubbish! We’re not dangerous!” Kiss insisted.

“You have a boltgun, a blade, power armor, and I’m pretty sure that iconography belongs to the dark god of plagues,” the guard retorted.

Kiss sputtered indignantly for a few seconds, and then coughed to clear her throat. “I was REFERRING to ‘we’ as a species. The median pony, if you will. Not dangerous!”

“Okay but we specifically are, though,” Breezy added regretfully.

“REALLY dangerous,” Blossom agreed. “Sometimes not even on purpose!”

As Kiss groaned, the guard turned back to Daniels. “Get these freaks out of here. We don’t want your crazy Warp monsters or chatty xenos scaring the customers!”

“Fine! Fine! We’re leaving!” Kiss snapped, turning away. “You could’ve just said ‘customers only,’ you numpty!” Breezy and Blossom were visibly disappointed despite their expressions being hidden under their helmets, and they turned to follow the unicorn while she trudged back to the main avenue.

“Good. Now what about you?” The guard beckoned to Erin Whyd, finally releasing his grip on his gun. He walked up to her and crossed his arms over his chest. “We cater mainly to male clientele, but we should have what you’re looking for. You into men or women?”

Erin didn’t answer right away, staring up at the column tower and the surrounding constructs silently. Then she smiled politely at the guard and shook her head.

“I’m just window shopping. Don’t suppose you have an illustrated catalog or a menu or anything?” she asked wryly.

“Get lost,” the guard grunted in reply before turning back to Daniels. “Xenos and deadbeats. What kind of companions are you running with these days, Daniels?”

“I thought quality companionship was what I pay YOU for,” the mercenary retorted, offering a little wave as Erin wandered away.

Erin Whyd sped up a bit to catch up with Phage squadron, falling in behind Rot Blossom. The mares all glanced back to check on her, and then continued onward up the street of scrap plating.

“Well that was a bust. Disappointing, but I can’t say I’m surprised,” Kiss admitted.

“Why did you want to check out a human whorehouse anyway? Did you think you would get to watch or something?” Erin asked, catching up to the mares.

“No, don’t be daft,” Kiss scoffed. “I just wanted to see what a place like that looked like, and maybe have a chin wag with one of the escorts. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“I was kinda hoping to get a peek at the real thing, actually,” Breezy mumbled.

“Breezy,” Blossom said flatly, staring at the pegasus.

“Oh, as if you’re not the least bit curious!” Breezy snapped back. “Do they stand on two legs the entire time? What’s the foreplay like? I’ll bet they do all sorts of weird stuff with those hands!”

Erin snorted trying to contain laughter, and Poison Kiss looked up at her again.

“ANYWAY, that’s our story. How about you, Miss Whyd? Were you really banking that Mister Daniels would spot you?” asked the unicorn.

Erin quickly glanced about and then sighed. “No. I wasn’t looking to buy, I was scoping out a potential employer.”

Kiss stumbled, Blossom froze mid-stride, and Breezy jumped up, spun around 180 degrees with her flight pack, and then landed facing their human tag-along. “What?”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Erin said. “Not that I think anyone in the fleet would really care, but I don’t know how paranoid they are about operational security.”

“You want to leave the 38th Company? Why would you do that?!” Kiss asked. She sounded genuinely hurt and confused at the prospect, which Erin found adorable and a little frustrating.

“I ended up with you all because the choice was go with Twilight Sparkle or get violated by aliens and turned into some sort of brainwashed baby incubator. Not a hard decision. But I didn’t sign on to join the forces of Chaos as they cut a bloody swathe through humanity.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I thought you DID sign up for that. Like, literally. Aren’t you a Fire Lancer now? One of the human soldiers with pulse rifles and stuff?” Breezy asked.

“No. The contract’s ready, I just…” Erin trailed off and took the Chaos Star hanging around her neck between her fingers. She grimaced. “If I walk this path, then I’m committing to serve a band of inhuman murderers. To fight their enemies. To kill the defenders of the Imperium.”

“Well… yeah. Isn’t that what you were doing before?” Blossom asked.

“Yes. Although I didn’t know I was serving a band of inhuman murderers before. It’s made me rethink some things.” She sighed and scrubbed her hair with her hand. “I’m not sure yet if I’d rather live here. But I should make a decision soon; I doubt there are many other places you travel to that aren’t completely infested by Chaos.”

“You should at least wait to see Equestria before you leave!” Kiss insisted.

“She said she’s looking for places that AREN’T infested by Chaos,” Breezy reminded her.

“It’s not! Not completely!” Kiss huffed. “Anyway, if you were looking for work here, why would you go to the brothel first? Aren’t you experienced with security?”

“Yeah. My prospects around here should be pretty good, actually,” Erin admitted, “but… honestly, I’d like to try a job where I don’t kill people. You know, for a change.”

The group advanced in silence after that, stewing on Erin’s words. The flickering lume boards and thrumming pipes passed them by, taking the four guests past the residency spools and toward the back of the massive cavity that contained most of the station’s settlement. There were several residents who spotted them on their walk, and every one of them immediately turned away or retreated inside at the sight of them. Erin had to assume she had Phage Squadron to thank for their caution.

Eventually Poison Kiss slowed down so that she was walking alongside Erin and her helmet disengaged. The plating split open and broke loose over the gorget, and then Kiss levitated it off and to her side so that she could look at Erin directly.

“I’ve heard a little bit of what went on down there. Some kind of aliens chased you out, right?” Kiss asked. “It sounds like a right mess. I can understand why you'd want to settle for something a little less exciting after a fracas like that.”

“It wasn’t the aliens, really,” Erin said, looking away. “The freaky monsters don’t bother me. Hideous bugs, very scary, sure. But…” She took a deep breath, clearly steeling herself. “The people. I killed a lot of people. People I KNEW. People who were my friends that very morning. Every one of them would have turned a gun on me in an eye blink and killed me for… for what? Some voice in their head? I don’t get it. Maybe I don’t want to get it.”

The mares stopped walking, all of them turning around to face her.

“Byron. Byron escaped with us. He helped us. Fought with us, although he wasn’t good at that. Infected the entire time. A monster. Or something. I can’t make any sense of it, but his intentions were clear enough when he tried to stick a bomb on the Warsmith. Was he even in control of his own mind? His body? I don’t know.” She shuddered and hugged herself, rubbing her arms together. “I watched him die there, in the medicae. He looked… so scared. Paralyzed with terror. Like he couldn’t believe what he had just tried to do. I’ve felt kind of… numb ever since.”

The ponies winced. Kiss walked closer, giving the refugee a sad smile. “Being on a Chaos ship can’t have been pleasant after all that, eh?”

“It’s not that bad, actually. I look at it like the Genestealers. Monsters. Aliens. Freaks from the void. You point a weapon at them and squeeze the trigger, and never think about it again.” She sighed and reached over to Kiss.

Erin hesitated, her fingers hovering near Kiss’s head uncertainly. The mare leaned into her hand, smiling happily when Erin started scratching at her ears.

“It’s the cults I’m afraid of. The wars. This… weird, stupid grudge with the Imperium of Man. I don’t want to kill or die for some las batteries or whatever it is you’re taking from our hive cities, much less for some crazy dark gods.” She took her hand away from the unicorn’s mane with a sigh. “But most of all, I don’t want to have to point a gun at any of you because your deity decided I was a threat or the next convert or something. Understand?”

“Clear as crystal,” Kiss said, her voice grim and serious. “Although Grandfather Nurgle’s hardly the sort to order the assassinations of individual mortals, so you probably don’t have to worry about us specifically.”

“She’d probably have to put a bullet into Shifty eventually, though,” Breezy Blight giggled.

“All the more glum that she’s leaving us,” Kiss sighed.

“Hey! Hey, girls! Look at this!”

The shout from Blossom startled the others, and they realized that the earth pony had advanced well ahead of the group. She had stopped on the side of the path, staring at something partially hidden behind a boarded-up building that looked like it had once served as a kitchen.

Rushing to meet her, Erin and the rest of Phage Squadron immediately spotted what she was talking about. A small blast door was located on the bulkhead wall at the end of an alley, and the entire path had black and yellow warning tape strung loosely across the path. Signs were hung on the tape and sides of the alley, all of them either illustrating some unspecified danger or warning the reader to turn back. The door itself was shut with a formidable-looking plasteel lock that spanned the width of the door and clamped onto the frame to seal it. A large biohazard symbol, nearly identical to Kiss’s cutie mark, was spray painted across the door and lock.

“Well that’s interesting. Wonder what the bother’s all about?” Kiss asked, cocking her head to the side.

“There’s a meme-tag, Kiss! It says this is an infestation quarantine! Look! Look!” Rot Blossom was visibly excited, practically dancing from hoof to hoof as she read the warning on her visor display.

“Infestation? Of what? We’re in space!” Poison Kiss scoffed.

“There are pests that come from the void, too,” Erin advised the ponies. “But more likely it’s just some terrestrial pest that snuck aboard and got into the food supplies. If humans can survive here, other creatures can, too.”

“Let’s check it out!” Blossom said.

“Are you daft? It’s a quarantine!” Kiss scoffed.

“So what? We’re Nurgle cult! What kind of infestation are we afraid of?” Breezy asked.

“There are other reasons not to break a quarantine aside from risks to ourselves!” Kiss replied sharply. “Besides, what about Miss Whyd? You just want to leave her alone in the middle of this skeevy place?”

“It’s fine, I can go with you,” Erin volunteered, ducking under the caution tape and approaching the door. Blossom squealed happily and jumped over another patch of caution tape to join her.

“What? No! It’s a needless risk!” the unicorn argued, wagging an armored hoof at the others.

“Don’t be a wet blanket, Kiss,” Breezy said, smirking. “Let’s explore the spooky infested room!”

“And how do you reckon to do that? Can your bad breath dissolve that lock?” Kiss snorted. “I don’t have any spells that can do the job.”

“I got it,” Erin announced, drawing a combat knife from her leg holster. She stabbed it under the lock’s main brace, and then started wrenching it back and forth.

“You… You what?” Poison Kiss watched Breezy follow the others into the alley, her expression one of stunned surprise.

“These lock patterns are pretty common. I used to see them all the time in abandoned work sites in the underhive. There’s an emergency release that resets the key combination… there!” A heavy thunk came from the device, and a large dial popped out on the lock’s front. Erin put away her knife and turned the dial until another click came from the device. She pushed it in, and then lifted the entire mechanism off the door and tossed it away.

“What’s the point of a lock that anyone can open?” Breezy asked.

“They’re for safety more than security. Blasted things keep getting left behind and rediscovered after the folk who know the key combo are long gone. So there’s another way to open them besides melta cutters or krak charges, although you wouldn’t know it unless someone taught you what to look for.”

“Do you ever open one of the locks and explore the room beyond it only to realize that whatever was on the other side should have stayed locked away?” Kiss asked.

“Yes, frequently. So, shall we?” Erin took the door’s main latch and wrenched it open.

“Yay!” Blossom jumped up and down in glee and immediately rushed through the passageway as soon as the door was open wide enough for her.

“You sure you’re going to be okay? You’re not really armored up or… anything,” Kiss asked Erin while Breezy ducked into the quarantine zone.

“I’ve ignored MUCH more ominous warning signs than these before,” Erin assured her. “I’ll just keep behind you girls, if it’s all the same.”

“Cheers!” Kiss chirped, putting her helmet back on and trotting into the doorway.

Erin looked over her shoulder as she followed the ponies into the dark, and then carefully pulled the door closed behind her.

Mining nexus Ishrem
Sub-deck 2-2
Waste processing access

“Ah, here we are. I believe this is what we’re looking for.”

Mantis and Vinyl walked through the access tunnel while surrounded by a ring of armed ponies. The tunnel was big enough to drive a transport vehicle through, although they had to guess it hadn’t seen any such treatment in a very long while. Dirt and garbage were piled up along the wall, and puddles of filthy water stretched across the path. The lumens barely worked, casting the tunnel in a pale gloom, and a rancid smell blanketed the entire space.

“Ugh. Wish I brought my respirator,” Vinyl grumbled, gagging.

“It’s best that we are exposed,” Mantis replied. “These people are used to being looked down on. Observed like animals and vermin from behind masks and gun barrels. Some measure of vulnerability and sympathetic experience is necessary to appeal to them.”

“We’re bringing a lot of guns, though,” Lightning Dust interjected.

“Yes. Well. It wouldn’t do to be too vulnerable. The galaxy is a dangerous place,” Mantis retorted. He stamped his braced leg on the floor for emphasis.

“Hello, what’s this?” one of the guards shined her tactical lumen ahead, illuminating the end of the passageway where all the system lighting had failed.

The path was blocked by a massive metal door secured by a big disk-shaped mag lock. The door was smeared with the same degree of filth and rust as the rest of the passageway, but the lock was curiously pristine. Mantis walked up to the barrier, his eyes narrowing. His horns lit up with magic energy, and a small purple sphere appeared and floated nearby to fill the corridor with light. There was a cogitator nearby, but it had been smashed in and was obviously inoperable.

“The console isn’t going to work. I wonder how long it’s been like this.” He looked back and forth, his expression souring. “Why would they lock down the underdeck slum? As it was explained to me, they use these people for fresh slaves and the most dangerous labor. Preventing access harms the station as well as the people here.”

“Maybe the people got sick of it and rebelled?” Vinyl asked. “Is there someone we can ask? Or some kind of station log?”

“They didn’t tell us a lot about this place when we set out,” Mantis admitted. “I’d prefer not to have to deal with Ishrem’s security to do this, but without knowing what happened I don’t really want to circumvent the door either…”

“Hold on a sec,” Lightning Dust said, tapping the side of her visor. She pulled down a headset vox receiver with her wing and then blink-clicked the local signum node. Data screed filled her visor input for a moment, and she waited patiently for the link to connect.

“… Acolyte! Hi! It’s Captain Lightning Dust from… yes. Of course you knew that. Okay, so… we have a situation here. Underdecks are locked down and we don’t know why.”

The others waited patiently while Lightning spoke, with most of the pony guards forming a loose half-circle around Mantis and Vinyl. Vinyl was refashioning her cloak into a mask to help filter the air, while Mantis continued to study the door and its seal.

“Really? Is that normal? Huh. So we have no idea what’s back there? Okay… uh huh.”

After a few more seconds Lightning Dust turned to address Mantis. “DarkMech says there’s no obvious danger on the other side as far as they can tell from system feedback and noosphere flags. Air is breathable but contains a lot of, uh... carbons, I guess? He said ‘carbon’ a lot when he was rattling off chemicals.” She paused. “Oh, okay. Specifically it’s the kind of carbons left over from fires.”

“Fires? Was there an accident down here?” Vinyl asked.

Mantis narrowed his eyes. “There’s currently no fires in that zone? Our Techpriests can tell?”

“Yeah. Air flow and temperature is normal, he said.”

“Then group up. We’re going in,” the Hierophant declared.

“Thanks, Acolyte!” Lightning chirped before switching off the vox link. Then she and the rest of the guards moved in, standing close enough to the Cabal unicorns that their legs brushed each other.

“Scratch,” Mantis said, his eyes starting to fill with magical power.

Vinyl lifted her head, and her horn was surrounded by a shroud of magenta energy. The light seeped upward and collected in a single point, and then sunk down to the floor below. It touched the surface and then raced across the deck, drawing a circle around the group of ponies that flared up like flames racing along spilled promethium.

“Dark Gods, guide our path into the unknown, and let all who would stand before us tremble as these unholy shadows lengthen. Viermai!”

With that final, largely unintelligible shout, the magical energies reached their apex and swallowed the ponies entirely.

A halo of light appeared and pulsed, briefly painting the hallway magenta. Then it receded, leaving eight ponies standing in pitch darkness with a set of blast doors behind them.

The lumens attached to their weapons flickered briefly, disrupted by the teleportation, and then turned back on. Those who had theirs off before quickly worked to activate them, and soon a half-dozen cones of light were sweeping over the waste processing entrance.

There was little to see. The space immediately before the doors looked much like the corridor outside it. In this section, however, the lights were completely non-functional. Further ahead the space widened, and the degree of trash strewn about increased. Heaps of it were cast against the bulkheads, built up into slopes of filth. There were also canals built into the deck and pipes running along the wall, but these constructs were completely overwhelmed by the garbage.

Mantis stepped forward, and his snout wrinkled. “Yes, I definitely smell smoke. There was a fire in here.”

“Well the DarkMech said it was good enough to breathe, but I’m not so sure those guys have a great sense for how much smoke is unsafe for us squishy types. You know, what with their faces having respirators grafted on and stuff,” Lightning Dust admitted. “You want to go back? I don’t see anyone here, anyway.”

“No. The smoke isn’t bad, and we can barely see any of the slum from here. We proceed until we find a potential threat,” Mantis commanded, once again generating a magical orb of light above him.

The ponies advanced slowly, the guards studying the wreckage and piles of trash as they advanced. After some fifty meters the refuse changed from mounds of dirt, wrappings, and rags to hunks of scrap metal and dirty sheets. These made up what passed for living accommodations in the slum, forming tiny shacks and tents lined up amongst the heaps that were piled against the bulkheads. Or, at least, they used to.

The slum was in a state of violent disarray that was quite obvious despite the profound poverty of the settlement. Most of the “buildings” were burned. Some had been smashed apart. Most importantly, there was no sign of anyone at all. The ruins were empty, there were no bodies, and no one had come to meet the intruders walking through the sub-deck.

“Well the fire doesn’t look like it completely consumed this place, I guess. I hope the residents got out,” Lightning Dust mumbled.

Mantis stopped, staring at the flooring while his light orb hovered overhead. He grimaced. “This wasn’t a fire. At least, not like you’re imagining.”

“What? What do you mean?” Vinyl Scratch asked.

“Look at the scorch marks on the ground. They all fan out from the central walkway to the burnt dwellings. The dwellings themselves are charred, but the burns don’t follow from one cabin to another as you would expect from a spreading fire. These points were burnt separately.” He paused, his ears falling flat against his head. “And deliberately.”

“Flamers?” Vinyl gasped.

“Yes. There was some kind of violent incident here, but it doesn’t look like there was a battle. No signs of gunfire or blood, and no bodies. I imagine-“

A horrified yelp came from ahead, and the soldiers all stumbled to attention. Mantis whipped his head around, his ears perked for any sounds of violence. In the space ahead the waste processing facility split apart into multiple sections that hosted the machineries dedicated to this place. Huge vats, reprocessors, macro-pumps, and filtration engines had once filled the rooms and halls, but decades of scavenging and decay had left them as little more than empty alcoves and pits to hold more garbage and sewage.

One of the guards, an earth pony mare, had moved ahead of the others and turned the corner. She was shining her gun lumen into one such alcove, the beam quivering along with her legs. She stared for several seconds, and then turned her eyes away. The other ponies rushed to join her, Mantis at the head.

He grimaced once his light orb illuminated the room and exposed the source of her surprise. “I see we’ve found the residents.”

This section’s processing vat had been filled with burnt human remains. Little more than scorched bone and ash was left, and thin wisps of smoke still rose from the buried embers. A few corpses laid outside the pit and had not been burned so thoroughly, as if they had clawed their way out of the pyre but died before they could escape. Unlike the rest of the slum they had explored so far, here dried blood painted the deck in long slashes and thick pools and bullet casings were scattered across the ground, gleaming in the light.

“By Celestia…” Vinyl Scratch gaped, stumbling backward. “They’re… They’re dead? All of them?”

“I believe so. The effort to destroy this place seemed quite thorough,” Mantis said darkly.

“Why? The Iron Warriors said they used these people, right? So… So why would they…?”

Mantis shook his head. “There were supposedly many mutants among the populace here. Maybe they became a threat. Or perhaps the food and water supplies simply could not cope with the total population. Regardless, it hardly seems like the slum fought back. This was a massacre, not a battle.”

He frowned deeply, levitating one of the casings up from the floor. Lightning Dust stepped up next to him, and she arched her eyebrow.

“That’s not from an autogun,” the pegasus said, her voice carrying deep concern, “that’s a boltgun casing.”

“What, like the Astartes use? There were Space Marines here?”

“I guess? … Wait, I think there’s words engraved on it.” Lightning Dust took the casing with the feather tips of her wing, and then turned it over so that the writing was illuminated by the light orb. “It says ‘in the name of the God-Emperor, I am deliverance.’”

“That… That’s not good, is it? That sounds really bad,” Vinyl remarked, nervously looking back at the rows of ruined shacks.

“Captain Dust, I need you to ring up the Dark Mechanicus again,” Mantis commanded, his voice grim, “we have a situation.”

Author's Note

This chapter went a little faster than the last one. I'm still working on redoing that lost Gears chapter though.
Black Horizons is taking a long time to conclude, but that's probably fine.

The Righteous and the Lost

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 13
The Righteous and The Lost

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Deck 3-9
WARNING: Gamma-level quarantine zone – infestation marker present
DO NOT UNSEAL

“Dang, how long has it been since anyone’s been in here?”

“The air is breathable. But very stale. I think this section has been cut off from normal ventilation flow.”

“Standard procedure for biohazards. Wonder what this section was used for before they cut it off? Might find something useful left over.”

“You’ve only been here for a few hours and already you’re trying to pick the place clean, eh?”

“Old habits die hard. Anything they left in here they gave up for lost ages ago. They won’t miss it.”

The steady clunking of power armor boots followed the mares of Phage Squadron while they explored the abandoned section of Ishrem station. The lumens were out entirely in these rooms, and Breezy Blight and Rot Blossom led the way with a pair of high-powered lumen torches build into their armors’ shoulders. Poison Kiss used a light spell to illuminate the space around her, while Erin Whyd used a tiny hand lumen that had seen extensive use in the depths of Ulaisse.

The abandoned rooms were very dusty, with many boxes and crates scattered about. A table to the side had a dirty plate sitting on it, the contents hardened and decayed to a gray crust. Clearly this space had been evacuated very quickly before it was sealed off.

“Ooh, look! Webbing!” Blossom said brightly, casting her lumen against some pale, silky fibers stretched over a corner.

“Huh. So, what, the infestation is spiders?” Breezy asked hesitantly.

“While us humans tend to have a strong fear of little crawly things, I don’t think they’d close off this many rooms over spiders,” Erin assured them, stepping past Breezy Bright.

Erin shined her lumen over the stretch of fibers, squinting at it. It was surprisingly thick for what looked like a cobweb, although that was mostly due to the layer of dust that had collected over it, making it look less like a web and more like a dirty sheet. The space under the webbing was empty except for a rough oblong shape, and after a few seconds she backed away.

“There’s something under there.”

“Should I gas it?” Breezy asked, the jaw plate in her helmet snapping open.

“Breezy! Simmer down,” Kiss chided, trotting past her. “There’s no need to make a fuss, the visor reads nil. Here.”

Kiss levitated the plague knife out of the sheathe on her side and then swiped it across the webbing. Then she floated her magic light over the dark object that had been hidden under it. It was a husk: a dry exoskeleton left over from some kind of large insect. Its legs and a long tail were curled up, forming a ball of dusty chitin.

“Awww, it’s dead,” Blossom said sadly.

“What is it?” Breezy asked. “My visor scan is just saying ‘insufficient data.’ I don’t think I can identify it in that state.”

“Neither can I. Doesn’t look like any insect I’ve ever seen. I’m no expert, though. Don’t even know all the different bugs crawling around the underhive on Ulaisse,” Erin admitted. “It looks big enough that it could have been a threat if there were more of them.”

“Well if it’s dead then there’s no need for a quarantine anymore, is there?” Breezy asked.

“Let’s give the whole place a gander before we decide there’s nothing to worry about, yeah?” Kiss asked. “Blossom, you’ve got point. Breezy, if you DO see something that needs to die, use your bolter first rather than fouling up the place, hear?”

“That’s not very Nurgle-y of you,” Breezy chided.

“Stuff it! Miss Whyd doesn’t need to start her new life in space with a fresh case of lung mites!” the unicorn snapped back.

“I appreciate the thought,” Erin assured her. She was digging through a small crate to the side and picking through the contents. “Huh. Grenades. These could sell for something.”

“Ooh, autoguns!” Blossom cast her torch lumen on the wall, illuminating a brace that held three semi-automatic rifles in lockup. The weapons were in visibly poor condition, never maintained well even before they had been abandoned indefinitely to this place. “There’s some armor on the other wall. Is this an armory?”

“Looks more like a guard office. They probably have a few of them scattered throughout this rock,” Kiss explained. She walked up next to Blossom and shined a light on the next two doors. “Let’s see… that looks like the loo. And this one… looks like a lockup, maybe? There’s no tag and just a little lock icon on the door.”

“Well I don’t think we need to use the restroom and I don’t think I can get those guns free without better tools, so let’s see what’s behind the mystery door,” Erin volunteered.

Like everything else in this section, the door was unpowered. Kiss slammed a boot onto the manual override sleeve next to the doorway, magnetizing the sole and pulling the sleeve free. Erin reached over her head and pulled the lever, grunting slightly at the resistance from the rusted cogs in the wall. With a squeak the door shifted in the frame, and then Erin was able to pull it open entirely.

“WHOAA……” Blossom stood in front of the doorway, instantly enchanted.

“NOPE.” Erin shuddered, instantly repelled.

Erin started to close the door again, but Rot Blossom slammed a boot down in the doorway, blocking it open. Kiss and Breezy blinked in surprise at their reactions, and then shifted over to see what was in the next room.

Whatever it was intended to be in the past, the room was currently in a state of halted construction. Plates of metal and sheets of plastic were stacked against the walls, half of which were bare rock that had been hollowed out. Cables hung slack from ceilings and walls, rebar stuck out of unfinished sections, and blocks of rockcrete were bolted into the deck for furniture and installations that had long been abandoned. None of that, however, had provoked such fascination and disgust from the intruders.

Near the rear of the room was a cluster of what were obviously eggs. They were colored like rich amber and curiously phosphorescent; the eggs themselves lit much of the area in a soft, golden light. Most of them were only a bit bigger than chicken eggs, but the translucent shell allowed the explorers to see a coiled dark shape within each of them. The egg clusters were piled atop heaps of decayed matter, and scraps of bone and shredded cloth were scattered around them.

“Okay I can see the crux of your difference of opinion here,” Kiss admitted. “Miss Whyd, you stay back. This is where our Chaos shenanigans come in clutch.”

Blossom raced ahead, squealing in delight, but Erin looked back toward the exit nervously. “Can I close the door?”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t close the door,” Kiss replied. “It’s not easy to open without power or hands.”

“I really want to close the door,” Erin protested, hiding behind the wall.

“You were completely fearless a minute ago,” Breezy pointed out, “are these really that scary?”

“I was fearless when faced with a single dead alien bug and I am very scared of the many live alien bugs, yes! I’m not sure what’s confusing about that!” Erin retorted. “I’ve done these sorts of explorations a lot and ‘glowing insect hive on top of human remains’ is a very reliable indicator of danger!”

“Okay, fair, but we don’t know they’re alive for sure,” Kiss reasoned.

“They sure are!” Blossom said happily. “Ooh, this big one is pulsing! I think it’s reacting to my presence!”

Kiss grimaced. “Well isn’t she just chuffed. All right, close the door. Just don’t run off. We’ll tell you when it’s safe.”

A horrible squealing noise came from the wall as Erin did exactly that, slamming it closed behind her. On the other side of the room, Blossom was giggling with delight as one of the egg pods started to break. The creature within the translucent shell was squirming vigorously, struggling to escape.

“It’s hatching! You guys! This is so cool!” Rot Blossom said, absolutely enthralled. Her helmet disengaged and the pieces folded away behind her head and into her gorget.

Poison Kiss shared a glance with Breezy Blight, and then she addressed the earth pony. “Hey, uh, Blossom? I know we really aren’t the technical sort and Chaos magic isn’t the most predictable anyway, but are you sure these bugs can be… ah… domesticated like the usual lot?”

“None of my bugs are domesticated, Kiss! That’s not how it works!” Blossom leaned down on her belly, cooing in delight as the pod split open at the top. Viscous ooze started draining from the breach, and the creature inside started to nose its way out.

“Look, what I’m asking is: are you SURE you’ll be able to control them? I’m guessing the bobby here didn’t turn this place over to the bugs just because the eggs clash with the wallpaper!” the unicorn demanded. She unholstered her boltgun, levitating it on a cloud of murky yellow.

“Yeah, of course I can!” Blossom said, following the insect’s progress very closely with her nose almost pressed against the pod’s shell. “Eventually.”

“Eventually?! When is eventually?!” Kiss demanded.

Blossom didn’t seem to be listening, as she was too busy staring in fascinated awe. The strange insect finished crawling free of the egg and unfurled its legs and wings, taking a few seconds to scrape off the slime. It resembled a big dragonfly with thick, pointed legs and a very long tail that ended with thickened stinger. Its four glassy wings were longer than the main body, and its eyes had a bright green tint to them.

“Here you go, little one,” the earth pony cooed, holding out her boot next to it. “Aren’t you a handsome thing?”

The insect clambered up onto her greaves and she lifted it up to her face. Its mouthpieces – obviously sharp but not especially dangerous-looking – quivered in the air, and a pair of antennae whipped forward and tickled her nose.

“What is that thing? My helmet gizmo’s got nothing,” Kiss mumbled while Blossom nuzzled the alien. Her visor had bracketed the insect, but no useful data-screed emerged to identify it.

“Well there’s gotta be a ton of alien bugs out in the galaxy, right? I wouldn’t expect the suit cogitator to know most of them,” Breezy reasoned.

“Well what if this is the sort of bug we should be squashing on sight? Shouldn’t the tactical visor be letting us know if it’s dangerous?”

“Kiss! No!” Blossom protested, whipping her head around. She was presumably glaring at the other mares, but her eyes were completely covered by her mane as usual. “Put your gun away! They’re fine!” Behind her more of the larger eggs were starting to break open, and more newly hatched aliens were squirming free of the nest and cleaning their wings.

“Blossom, I have the UTMOST faith in your weird bug control powers; don’t misunderstand me,” Kiss replied firmly, “but that thing is huge and scary and if it touches me I’m going to-“

The alien’s tail suddenly whipped forward, driving its barbed tip deep into Blossom’s neck. Breezy and Kiss screamed, each of them recoiling and swinging their guns up to point at the earth pony. Blossom recoiled in return at seeing her companions aim at her, and the alien had to jump onto her ear to keep its footing.

“I knew it!” Erin shouted in horror from behind the door. “They’re going to kill us all!”

“No! No, they’re not! Everyone just CALM DOWN!!” Rot Blossom shouted, shielding her face and her insect passenger with a foreleg. “Everything is fine! Stop screaming!”

“The bloody thing stung you!” Kiss retorted, although she did lift the muzzle of her boltgun up to point at the ceiling instead of her squadmate.

“Relax! It’s just implanting a larva!” Blossom said, exasperated. “Lots of my bugs do that, it’s part of the symbiosis!” The alien’s body pulsed, and something was squeezed through the lengthy tube of its tail into the wound in Blossom’s neck.

“… Oh. Oh, okay.” Breezy dropped her gun back to the floor, exhaling heavily. “Sorry about that.”

“Is that better? That sounds worse!” Erin shouted.

“Look, try not to think about it,” Kiss replied behind her. Then she watched as three more of the alien bugs flew past Blossom and started hovering in front of her and Breezy. Their eyes glowed gently with a color similar to the eggs. “Hey, Blossom? The larva thing isn’t how these fellows say hello, is it?”

“Well, no, it’s how they begin turning victims into fodder for their nests,” Blossom admitted, “but it doesn’t work like that with me, obviously!”

“I’m not worried about you, I… I, uh…”

Poison Kiss blinked rapidly as her vision started to blur. Strange colors leaked from the insect’s eyes and whipped about in the air, like neon inks flooding onto a canvas that wasn’t there. Rot Blossom started to shrink into the distance, as if she and Kiss were being pulled apart by a force unseen. The buzzing sound of the alien’s wings intensified, seeming to flood through her helmet’s aural filtering.

“Thuh… uh… nngh…” Kiss kept staring at the bug’s eyes as they got closer, mesmerized. Her horn sparked every couple of seconds, and she felt twinges of sensation that she recognized as magic energy flowing. The rest of her thoughts and senses were rapidly turning to mush.

Breezy Blight started to make insensible blubbering noises just a foot away and swaying back and forth on her legs while another alien hovered above her head. The wings of her flight pack twitched up and down without activating, as if subject to impulses that weren’t quite reaching the rest of the pegasus. Another alien bug landed on her shoulder pad and then clambered up onto her helmet. Its legs poked at the various parts of the armor: the visor lens, the cap plate, the aural dish. Then one of its legs scratched at the rubber shielding between the mare’s neck and the gorget. Its tail curled upward, positioning to strike.

A knocking sound came from the door. “Hey… Kiss? Are you okay? What’s happening?”

The insect hovering in front of breezy was suddenly tapped sharply by Blossom’s boot. It immediately whirled about and started buzzing around the earth pony’s head.

“All right, knock it off girls,” Rot Blossom chided, walking up to Breezy and nudging the alien clinging to her helmet. It promptly jumped onto Blossom’s head, its mouthparts making an irritated clicking sound.

Breezy yelped in surprise as her senses suddenly snapped back into focus. She looked back and forth rapidly, trying to ascertain what had happened and if she was in danger. Meanwhile, Blossom poked at the insect hovering in front of Kiss with her nose. It immediately broke away and landed on her shoulder plate, and then Kiss stumbled backward.

“Wh-What… the hay… was THAT?” Poison Kiss gasped.

“Not sure. They looked like they hypnotized you for a second there. Maybe some sort of primitive psychic ability?” Blossom asked while the four insects scuttled about on her head and back.

“Insect PSYKERS? You’re telling me there’s a clutch of man-eating, psychic bugs on this station?! On the other side of this door?!” Erin shouted.

“RELAX. I have things under control,” Blossom said, her ear twitching as one of the aliens nibbled at it. “Besides, there are only four of them. The rest of these eggs aren’t close to hatching yet.”

“But when they DO hatch, they’ll immediately hypnotize the first person they see and infest them with flesh-eating larvae?” Breezy asked.

“Well… yeah, that’s a pretty fair assessment,” Blossom admitted. “I don’t know much about their life cycle yet, but that seems to be a big part of it, sure.”

“Champion. So now what do we do with them?” Kiss asked. “I’d advise wiping them out, but you’re not going to do that, are you?”

“Of course not!” Blossom gasped, clearly offended. “They’re my babies and I love them! I’m going to take them home!”

“This is a deeply unhealthy attachment to a bunch of monstrous aliens you just met,” Erin mentioned, still shouting from the next room.

“We’re with Nurgle, lass. ‘Unhealthy’ comes with the territory,” Kiss chuckled. Then she looked over to a stack of metal crates on the side of the room. “Breezy, you and Blossom start packing the eggs in those boxes. I’ll punch a few holes in one of them and we can use that one for the hatchlings.”

“I have these ones under control! You don’t have to cage them!” Blossom insisted. The aliens clinging to her vibrated their wings in tandem, as if trying to verbalize agreement.

“We do have to cage them, because that’s the only way Miss Whyd is opening the exit again,” Kiss explained. “She’s liable to weld us in here otherwise.”

“I have already found a plasma torch!” Erin assured them.

Blossom sighed, her ears hanging down. “All right, fine.” She lifted up a boot again, and one of the aliens bounced off of her head to land on it, facing the bushy-haired earth pony. “I’m sorry girls, but you’re going to have to stay in a box until we get back to the ship. Be good and I’ll get something for you to eat when we get there, okay?”

“I hope they can eat something besides humans and ponies,” Breezy mumbled, carrying a metal crate on her back.

“Can it and get this sorted,” Kiss commanded, drawing her plague knife with her telekinesis. “Looks like we’re bringing home some souvenirs.”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Spire 3, primary spool

A squad of five Iron Warriors marched up the road to one of the columns that spanned the height of the cavern. Their gait was lax and their weapons weren’t drawn, but the locals nonetheless made themselves scarce as soon as they saw the gleaming power armor or heard the rattle of weapons and ammunition. A few residents dared to peek out from behind windows, corners, or other forms of cover, and as the Chaos Space Marines ascended to the spire base a much more interesting convoy followed them.

Solon led the way, his chassis clanking noisily and his pointed legs leaving a trail of dents in the flooring plates. Behind him was Norris Delgan, looking very out of place with his pressed coat and pony attendant trotting along behind him. Jewel Bracer was wearing her usual vest and respirator mask, but had been given a flat-topped cap and boots to complete the outfit. She also had a pair of plasteel cases hanging on her flanks like saddlebags. Behind the Trademaster was a train of Dark Techpriests and attendant servitors, although groups of them were breaking off and heading to other parts of the station. Gaela was among the tech-clergy, although rather than a clanking servitor in her wake she had Spike clinging to her servo harness.

“Is it just me, or do the locals seem more… on edge than usual?” Delgan asked. “Usually they all gawk openly at the Techpriests and some bold rabble even approach to beg favors. They’re all in hiding now.”

“They’ve alwaysh been shkittish in my experience,” Solon remarked, another blast of exhaust spiraling from his smokestacks.

“My Lord.” Gaela sped up to walk beside the Warsmith and then bowed her head. “On our last visit you still possessed your daemonic gift of terrifying presence. That may account for much of the reaction on previous occasions.”

“Ah. Good point,” Solon admitted, leaning back to look at the massive spire that housed the station’s leadership suites. “Maybe there wash a violent incident recently. There wash a lot more hull shcarring than I remember on the way in.”

“You mean there was some kind of battle here?” Jewel Bracer asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Fights break out all the time on Ishrem, although they differ widely in scale,” Delgan explained. “Obviously there’s a number of drunken brawls, but at times an entire crew is implicated in something and the greater part of the station turns against them. And then there are the occasions when the slavers get a little too bold.”

Solon laughed, which sounded somewhat like a truck backfiring. “Do you remember when they captured that Dark Acolyte and actually tried to shell him back to ush?! Shtrung up the entire lot of them on the tertiary shpire and had the mercsh practice shniping! Ha ha! Maybe THAT’SH why they’re sho nervoush!”

“Yeah, I think that would do it,” Jewel agreed, her mask obscuring her grimacing face.

A static noise erupted from behind them, and Gaela glanced over her shoulder. Kaelith was scuttling past the other Dark Techpriests, and they were all breaking off toward their respective work sites. The Dark Magos loomed up, and Gaela briefly made eye contact with the cluster of glowing sensoria under his hood.

“… I must depart for my objective zone,” she declared, turning back to Solon and bowing. “Please excuse me, Warsmith.”

“Of courshe. Have fun!” Solon said. He waved as she departed, much to the embarrassment of his escorts.

“I should also take my leave,” Delgan announced, snapping his fingers. Jewel Bracer stepped up to him, and the man and pony bowed their heads to the Warsmith. “I have much to do at the scrap and weapons markets and several contacts have already reached out.”

“Are we going to visit the slave market too?” Jewel asked, her ears flipping down.

“No, we won’t,” the Trademaster assured her.

“You already have shufficient labor from Gessheim?” Solon asked while Kaelith crawled up next to him.

“Yes, we do. But it’s mostly because I saw the Equinoughts marching that way,” Delgan’s expression remained perfectly disinterested, but Solon laughed again.

“What does that mean? What is Princess Twilight going to do with them?” Jewel Bracer asked, looking between Delgan and Solon.

“You can ashk her about it when they get back from their little errand,” Solon replied, heading up toward the spire again, “but I imagine there’sh another fight brewing in Ishrem.”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Reactor pit 7 (inactive)

“Sub-routine 9 engaged. Cease hostile action or-“

Applejack’s tail whipped forward, striking the servitor in the face while it lumbered around to get its heavy stubber aimed toward the attackers. It reeled backward, and then the farmer swung the tusks of her helmet for its leg, sweeping it off its feet.

“Karkin’ xeno scum!” screamed a man through a metal face mask while he reloaded a laspistol from behind a corner.

Rainbow Dash flew by, laughing while her multi-colored mane whipped about in the air. Autogun fire trailed after her hopelessly, the guards emptying their magazines while she rocketed up and out of sight.

The men ducked back down to get their bearings while pulse fire zipped by overhead. One started gesturing to the ramp out of the pit, while another started blind-firing over the edge of the defunct cooling linkage. A moment later a photon grenade landed between them, and the men screamed as their vision went white.

“Reposition!” Jerriha shouted, stepping out behind a cell. She fired her pulse carbine at the man who was still blind-firing, taking his arm off at the elbow. Three Fire Warriors dashed into the pit, rushing to get a better firing angle.

A scream came from above, and a smoldering human body slammed onto the vent hood behind her. Jerriha winced from the impact, turned, and fired a single shot to ensure the victim was put out of her misery.

“What happened to just checking the place out to map its security?!” Jerriha shouted while loading another photon grenade in the underbarrel launcher.

“I’m sorry! Things escalated really fast! I’M SORRY!!” Twilight shouted from above. Her horn flashed, and the armored alicorn teleported to deal with some men on the other side of the pit’s rim.

“They shouldn’t have tried to buy me!” Rarity snarled, slicing into another guard with her power sword.

“They wanted to know if you were for sale! They’re slavers! What did you expect?!” A few bullets struck the plate above her head, and she ducked back behind the cage.

“It was still offensive! And that PRICE!” Rarity spun around and booted her opponent over the pit’s edge, sending him hurtling onto an uplink node. “Do I LOOK like an 80 throne mare to you?!”

“Ain’t that a lot of money in bits?!” Applejack shouted while she charged another position.

“FOUR DIGITS IS THE FLOOR AND I WILL HEAR NOTHING MORE ABOUT THIS.” Rarity’s plasma gun shrieked, steam pouring from its induction coils. Three blazing projectiles struck a length of upright metal casing serving as a barricade, burning molten holes right through it. A corpse slumped to the floor a moment later, smoke billowing from its chest.

“Guys, they’re pulling up something in the back!” Rainbow Dash announced, swooping down into the pit before pulling up and flying back out. “It’s in a cage and sounds mad!”

“Is it mad at US, though?” Rarity shouted from behind an empty coolant tank.

“Doesn’t make as much difference as you’d think!” Jerriha replied, shouting up from within the pit.

Twilight shot a blast of lightning from her horn, and the purple arc struck a shuddering gun turret that was trying to track her. The control regulator blew out, and Twilight galloped past the smoldering remains to approach the new threat. An elevator was slowly climbing up to the main floor carrying a heavy, rusted shipping crate and the apparent owner of the slave market.

“Xenos scum,” snarled the man through the respirator grafted to his jaw. He rushed to the back of the container and grabbed a release lever. “All you’re good for is killing each other! HYAAH!” He pulled the lever down, and a loud creak came from the container’s door hatch.

“Give it up!” Twilight shouted. The force harmonizer floated off her back and shuddered, and then the bright purple energy blade erupted from between two of its poles. “Your guards can’t beat us! It’s over!”

The container door flew open, and a dark blur erupted from the vessel. A paw with thick, sharp claws swatted the harmonizer out of the air, throwing it into an empty waste feed. Twilight barely had time to recoil before a second swipe slammed into her, throwing her across the pit and crashing into an empty pen. The bars gave way on impact, luckily proving to be much weaker than the ceramite shell covering the alicorn’s face.

Twilight’s assailant stood up straight and roared. The sound was low and guttural, but the sheer volume caused the Fire Warriors and ponies of the 38th Company to flinch. Rarity winced and turned away, as she hadn’t brought her helmet to cut the incoming noise. Pinkie galloped up behind her and stopped at the edge of the reactor pit.

“SPACE KITTY!!” Pinkie shouted gleefully while the alien creature snarled.

It was indeed shaped like a feline, although it more resembled an enormous panther than any house cat. About five feet tall at the shoulders and more than twice as long, the beast had a leathery-looking hide of dark purple riddled with bony spines along the back and tail. Its head possessed no eyes or ears but its jaws were quite conventional, boasting thick, curved teeth with elongated fangs. It’s tail was long and whip-like, with a crown of especially large spines near the end. Shackles were locked onto each of its shins, but they weren’t attached to anything; loose chains with obvious damage trailed behind each leg, speaking to previous attempts at restraint that failed. The only apparent means of controlling or containing the creature was a hefty metal collar with several blinking lumens and a very conspicuous battery pack on it.

“OUT OF THE PIT!! High ground, now!” Jerriha bellowed, taking aim with her carbine. The Fire Warriors broke for ladders and ramps that led out of the vast reactor berth, and Jerriha launched a photon grenade at the alien slave-beast.

The grenade struck the ground right in front of the animal, exploding with an intense burst of light and a deafening ring that echoed through the cavern. The beast didn’t so much as flinch. It sniffed the air as the visitors scrambled for better ground, and then suddenly darted toward the nearest Fire Warrior.

The soldier leapt onto a ladder, only for a massive paw to slam into his back and tear him back to the floor a moment later. The claws pierced the back of the Tau’s body armor and dug into the flesh beneath, and the Fire Warrior screamed as he was pinned to the ground.

With an agitated growl, the beast opened his jaws, only for an energy beam to latch onto its collar and tug it sharply to the side. Its jaws snapped in surprise and confusion, sending ropes of drool splashing onto the Tau below.

“Hey! Pick on somepony yer own size!” Applejack taunted, pulling back on the gravity lash. The beast lurched to the side, lifting off of the soldier, and then it turned to snarl at the heavily armored mare.

Applejack turned sharply as the alien pounced, catching the paw against her shoulder pad. The force of the impact pushed her several feet across the deck, but she retained her footing. The claws bit hard into the ceramite shielding and then the other paw raked across Applejack’s back, throwing sparks into the air while the outer armor layers were rent apart.

“Get up! Get out of the pit now! When you have an angle on it, give me volley fire!” Jerriha shouted, grabbing the Fire Warrior that had been attacked and pulling him to his feet. Blood ran down the back of his armor, but the soldier staggered over to the ladder and then started climbing.

“Wait!” Fluttershy’s voice suddenly came from Jerrihas’s commlink. “Please, don’t shoot it! I can stop the alien kitty!”

“What? How?” the Fireblade demanded while she jumped onto the ladder herself and began to ascend.

“I don’t have time to explain! I just need you to get that collar off of it! Uh, that is, if it’s not too much trouble-“

“It is! It is WAY too much trouble!”

“Pleeeeeeeease?”

“Fine, whatever! Don’t blame me if it eats the orange pony because of you!” Jerriha shouted. “Fire Warriors! Target the neck restraint! Hold fire until you can get a precise shot on the collar!”

Applejack threw her head to the side, punching into the alien’s leg with the tusks of her helmet. The feline beast recoiled, spitting out a few chunks of ceramite while it snarled.

“You wanna taste some more Apple?! Come back here, varmint!” the farmer shouted, advancing on the beast.

It swiped with both of its front paws in quick succession, knocking Applejack to each side while carving jagged scars into her armor plating. When it jumped back again, however, the mare just huffed in annoyance and plowed forward again.

“Orange pony! Try to pin it down! We’ll shoot off the collar!” Jerriha shouted.

“Ah have a name, ya gray hooligan!” Applejack snapped, firing her gravity lash onto the alien’s collar.

The lumens on the device blinked rapidly, and then the creature roared as a new flood of psycho-catalyzer stimms surged through its body. A pair of pulse shots from above struck it in the neck near the collar, searing through skin and muscle and singing the battered metal of its restraint. This immediately pushed the alien deeper into its frenzy, and the next swipe of its claws knocked Applejack clean off her hooves.

“The collar! I said shoot the collar!” Jerriha spat while the alien jumped on the heavily armored mare.

“I am TRYING! The wretched thing won’t stay still!” the nearest Fire Warrior retorted, kneeling at the railing around the pit’s edge.

Rather than arguing further, Jerriha dropped onto one knee and switched her pulse carbine to single-fire mode. The short gun was far less accurate than the rifles, but the Fireblade nonetheless extended the tactical scope and waited for her moment.

Applejack unleashed her heavy flamer at the feet of the alien, spreading it along the floor and hoping to get some room. The eyeless creature leapt away in an instant, neatly dodging the tongue of flame and incidentally the next pulse shot that had been aimed at its neck. Applejack stood back up, but the moment she was upright again the alien spun around in place. Its tail lashed out over the flames and smashed into the farmer, the spikes punching through the outer armor before she was hurled into a defunct cooling tower.

The alien immediately sprinted around the fire toward Applejack’s landing spot, dodging another pulse shot from above. It slipped under some disused piping with shocking agility, shielding it from above while it raced toward the stunned farmer. Applejack started to roll over onto her feet, and the alien crouched down in preparation to pounce.

“Here kitty, kitty!” Rainbow Dash shouted, blasting by just a foot from the alien’s nose. It flinched back, taking its attention off Applejack, and then stood up and stuck its head out to try to track the flyer’s position.

A pulse blast promptly struck its collar, and a bloom of sparks shot into the air from the ruptured battery case.

“Got it!” Jerriha shouted, lifting her carbine as the alien snarled and began to flail. “Okay… now what?”

Red warning lumens were flashing all over the collar and sparks kept blasting from the battery pack to roll down the alien’s leg. It threw its head back and forth, thrashing violently, and then started clawing at the damaged collar.

“There! It’s working!” Fluttershy shouted and uncloaked, startling several nearby Fire Warriors who had no idea she was there. She took off into the pit, curving into an intercept course with the alien predator.

“Applejack! Grab the collar with your gravity lash!” Twilight came galloping out behind the beast, her (slightly dented) force harmonizer floating alongside her head. “When I give the word, pull as hard as you can!”

“All right ya creepy varmint, stop squirmin’!” Applejack grunted, snapping her tail forward.

The whip of humming energy latched onto the collar, and the beast staggered. It snarled and tried to back away, dragging Applejack slowly across the deck while the restraint squealed at the stress.

“I’ve got it!” Twilight shouted, flying over the alien and hurling the harmonizer through the air. The psykant weapon struck the collar and magnetized, holding fast on the side of the ring opposite the gravity lash. Twilight’s horn casing pulsed, the circuits in the helmet glowing bright purple. “NOW! PULL!!”

The alien thrashed back and forth, its claws scratching the deck plating furiously while it tried to deal with the barrage of stimuli. The force harmonizer was surrounded by a purple glow and started to pull away, and at the same time the tractor beam started drawing the collar in the opposite direction. The metal strained and the devices on the collar sparked furiously, lumens flashing chaotically before blowing out one by one.

Then another two pulse shots struck the collar from above, and the ring broke in half.

“Got it!” Twilight cheered, the glow around her horn fading. “Now Flutt-“

She didn’t get any further before the alien beast dashed by, whipping its club-like tail into her while passing. Then it raced back across the pit and darted under a half-scrapped reactor vessel. The alien curled up as best it could, shielding itself from further attacks from above, and then it started furiously scratching at its neck, snarling defensively.

“Whoa! Twi, you okay?” Rainbow swooped down next to the young Princess and then landed beside her, looking over the battered armor plating.

“Yes… Yes I’m… fine,” Twilight grunted, slowly pushing herself upright. “The spines didn’t penetrate the inner armor layer.”

“Yeah, but they hit hard enough to dent it so that they dig inta yer flank when ya move,” Applejack grumbled. “Shy, ya sure ya got this? This critter ain’t from our neck o’ the woods!”

“It’s all right Applejack,” Fluttershy assured her, landing ahead of the other mares. “Leave everything to me!” Her helmet hissed and then disengaged, and the meek pegasus shook her head briefly to let her mane flow loose while she approached the alien.

Twilight grimaced, and then turned her head to look up at Jerriha. Jerriha held eye contact for a few seconds, and then made a series of swift motions with one hand. The other Fire Warriors moved to the very edge of the pit and crouched, each one aiming their pulse rifles at the reactor shell. Jerriha herself lowered her own weapon and waited.

The alien detected the approaching pony immediately, snorting and baring its teeth. A deep growl came from its throat, and its tail started slapping against the ground, generating a terrible sound as the spines tore at the corroded reactor plating. Fluttershy winced slightly from the noise and slowed her approach, but otherwise showed no particular concern as she walked up a makeshift ramp to the large bowl that had once held a fission reactor.

“Oh, dear… That collar really hurt, didn’t it?” Fluttershy asked, stopping at the edge of the shell. The alien snapped its jaws threateningly, a rumble again rising from its throat. “You don’t have to worry. We don’t want to hurt you.”

It raised its head and sniffed the air. Its lips curled back, revealing rows of blade-like teeth as it snarled. Fluttershy pouted, and then twisted her head around.

“Uhm, I’m sorry to bother everyone, but… the alien is feeling very threatened by all the firepower in the immediate area. Could you give it some space?” Fluttershy asked.

“Can’t ya tell it that this firepower was just cleanin’ up the brutes that locked it up a minute ago?” Applejack asked.

“That… Uh… That’s kind of hard to explain right now, actually. It’s REALLY agitated, and a lot of what the collar was doing to it hasn’t worn off yet,” Fluttershy squeaked. “I promise it will be all right! I’ll explain everything but I really need the guns pointed somewhere else, okay? Please?”

Twilight groaned, but quickly backed off. “Come on, let’s leave her alone. Jerriha, stand down, please! Applejack, did you see where they were keeping the slaves?”

The other mares turned away from the reactor shell, trusting Fluttershy to handle the strange feline. Jerriha hesitated, but eventually she shrugged and waved off the Fire Warriors, moving to speak with them away from the pit. Fluttershy walked into the reactor vessel to address the alien more closely while they had some space.

“I saw ‘em over here ‘fore the boss hit that button that shut everything down and turned on the gun turrets,” Applejack said, trotting to the section of the pit opposite the beast. A metal panel with a bright red lumen on it and a keypad was attached to a rail, and a large slab of scrap metal salvaged from a container blocked access to the space beyond.

“That lock panel is too simple for a data inload,” Twilight said regretfully, analyzing the machine with her bionic eye. “I can see the power routing though, so maybe if we cause a surge we’ll be able to disable the-“

Rainbow zipped overhead, twisted about in the air, and then smashed an aerial kick into the lock panel, denting it inward and shattering the display screen. She bounced off into a showy somersault, and then Applejack rammed one of her helmet tusks in under the damaged slab. With a sharp twist the device was ripped free of the railing and the attached clamps fell apart.

“… Okay well OBVIOUSLY if we’re just going to break it I could have done that, too,” Twilight grumbled. “I just thought it might scare the people inside.”

Applejack mag-locked a boot to the makeshift door and walked alongside the railing, dragging it along with her and exposing the space beyond it. Four men and a woman were huddled together in the corner, along with two children; a boy and a girl. The room was barely ten feet wide, and numerous open plugs on the floor and ceiling suggested it was designed to feed cabling to other pieces of machinery.

In Twilight’s defense they did look very scared, which was not helped in the least when a pony-shaped suit of power armor approached and summoned a light at the tip of its horn. Most of the slaves were stunned silent, but one of them was blubbering in terror on the floor at the sight of her. Twilight took a moment to check the cell interior, and then took a deep breath to address the liberated humans.

“HI EVERYONE WE’RE HERE TO SAVE YOU!!” bellowed Pinkie Pie, jumping on top of Twilight’s back and grinning widely.

The slaves jolted in surprise, and the one on the floor stopped gibbering, blinking through the tears. The children went wide-eyed, staring in awe at the fluffy-haired pink creature.

“Wh… What are…” one of the men started to speak uncertainly, overwhelmed.

“We’re ponies!” Pinkie chirped. “We’re super cute aliens from a faraway planet that are friends with the Chaos fleet currently in dock! We saw that there was a slave market here and came to rescue you from a lifetime of miserable bondage!” She struck a heroic upright pose, still standing on Twilight’s back.

“That’s… well, accurate enough, I guess,” Twilight said with a dry chuckle. “You’re all free to go now!”

Rainbow swooped down from above and then cut her flight pack, dropping onto the deck with a resounding clang. “Yeah, uh, about that… You’re probably going to want to leave Ishrem with the fleet, though. The boss slaver got away.”

“Ya didn’t see where he ran off to from up there?” Applejack asked.

“Nah, he ducked into some kind of tunnel and then I heard the sound of a lot of metal being banged around so I flew back.” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “So if you guys just walk out of here to live among the slightly cleaner metal shacks I guess he could find you and lock you up again. Sorry.”

The imprisoned humans looked over the various ponies dubiously, and the woman slowly raised her hand. “You said… you were with a CHAOS fleet?”

“Yup! The BEST Chaos fleet!” Pinkie insisted. “So if you’re going to come with us you’ll want somepony to explain that you were freed from the slave market and are joining of your own free will, otherwise they might also just enslave you again.”

“That sounds like a poor choice,” another of the slaves remarked, furrowing his brow.

“It’s not great,” Applejack conceded, clamping the end of her tail onto Pinkie’s back and placing her onto the floor, “but ya get to choose, at least. We can offer y’all that much.”

“But before that, let’s get everyone else free,” Twilight interjected. “I saw a few other pens like this in the reactor pit, but they were all empty. Is there another level where they keep more people locked up?”

“No, not that I know of,” the woman mumbled. “I think we’re all that’s left.”

“What? Just the seven of you? There were more guards than that!” Twilight exclaimed. “Does he supplement the slave trade with sales of exotic, deadly pets?”

“You mean that eyeless xeno with the claws? No, he’s had that thing for years. Don’t even think it was for sale.”

“Something happened recently,” offered one of the men, wringing his weathered hands. “I don’t right know what. But they sold a lot of us in the past week, very quickly. I think mostly for ship crew? And nobody new has come in, as far as I know.”

“Huh. That’s odd… but convenient?” Twilight started to turn around. “Well, you folks should deliberate on what to do next. I’m going to check on something and then we’ll be heading further into Ishrem.”

“I want to go with the pony,” the little girl said, cautiously approaching Pinkie Pie.

“We can’t trust them!” yelped another man, shuddering. “They’re aliens!”

“Sugarcube, y’all were captured and locked up in a pen that Ah’d be ashamed to house pigs in, held fer sale, and from the looks’a things nearly starved. All by other humans, not aliens,” Applejack retorted with a snort. “You don’t gotta trust us if’n ya don’t want, but don’t go actin’ like WE’RE the monsters here.”

“I’m still a little hung up on the Chaos thing, actually,” murmured the woman. “Aren’t they insane cultists that swear allegiance to evil gods and wage an endless, pointless war with the Imperium of man?”

“They’re not insane,” Rainbow Dash assured her. “Well, most of them aren’t.”

“Do you, uh, have anything to say about the evil gods and war?”

“No, that stuff is completely true. It’s kind of a problem, but there’s not a lot we can do about it, really,” the pegasus admitted.

Pinkie giggled as the children carefully pet her mane, completely entranced with the bushy pink curls.

“… Well, y’all think it over. Ah wanna go check if our friend is done taming the cat alien.”

“You’re doing WHAT?!”

Twilight heaved a deep sigh as she approached the broken reactor foundation. All around were the remains of the short but desperate combat, with many dead bodies still lying on the floor next to their blood-stained weapons. She didn’t feel sorry for the slavers or regret killing them, but as she scanned the remains of the people she and her friends had slain she couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

“I’m proud that we freed the people here, but it’s just a little frightening how easy we default to violence now,” she grumbled to herself. “I really wish we could have at least made a futile, naïve appeal to human dignity and mercy before Rarity cut that man in half.”

Twilight lifted up into the air so that she could peek over the edge of the reactor dish. The alien was still laying there, grumbling while its tail dragged back and forth irritably. Fluttershy was laying next to its head, gently scratching the beast’s throat with the tiny servo arms on her chest armor. She was speaking to it very softly, so Twilight couldn’t pick up what she was saying, but there didn’t seem to be any dangerous tension.

“At least one of us is making friends,” the young Princess said to herself, slowly lowering herself back down to the deck.

“Hey, Sparkle!”

Twilight twisted her head around. Jerriha was climbing down the ladder at the edge of the pit, her carbine strapped to her chest again.

“Two of my Fire Warriors were wounded in the firefight, plus the other one that got clawed up by the beast. I think they’ll be fine, but they’re in enough pain that they don’t feel like window shopping for today.” She reached the bottom and dropped down to the deck. “The others decided to escort them back to the flagship. They’re a bit nervous after immediately getting attacked and killing the first residents we spoke to and don’t want to press their luck.”

Twilight winced. “Ah, okay. I’m sorry about that.”

“I’M not,” Rarity interrupted from above.

Jerriha didn’t bother addressing the unicorn, walking up to Twilight. “So what’s the plan now?”

“Wait, you’re… not going back with your squad?” Twilight asked hesitantly.

“No. Did you want me to?”

“I just thought you might want to make sure your subordinates were okay. Or maybe you were also a little annoyed with being dragged into a gunfight immediately,” the Princess reasoned, tactfully avoiding a direct answer.

“No, actually, I’m rather pleased I got kill something. Especially slavers. I hope we get to do that some more.” Jerriha nudged her head toward the reactor shell where Fluttershy was. “Are we going to finish off the slave-beast now that it’s been lured into a false sense of safety?”

“No! Heavens, no!” Rarity exclaimed, awkwardly descending the ladder by mag-locking her boots to each rung. “Fluttershy has the poor mongrel under control. There’s no need to harm it further.”

“What are you going to do with it if not finish it off?” the Fireblade asked. “You can’t let it loose in here; it will just murder the residents until they get enough people and firepower together to kill it anyway.”

“I’ll ask Gaela what we can do,” Twilight said, bringing up the vox channels available. “While we’re at it, maybe she can use something to find… er…”

“Find what?” Rarity asked, dropping down from the ladder.

“I was going to ask her if there was any way she could find the slaver boss, but… the vox is down. There’s no connection,” Twilight explained.

“What? You mean it’s jammed?!” Rarity asked, instantly alarmed.

“Unlikely. Old rusting hulks like this generate a lot of magnetic fields and radiation bleeds that interfere with transmissions,” Jerriha offered. “They either rely on internal comms systems or relay boosters to route communication. But those are probably in shabby repair in a place like this.”

“What a wretched place,” Rarity grumbled. “I shudder to think of the quality of the beauty spa they have available. But I suppose I’ll find out soon enough; are we going to move on?”

Twilight turned around. “Rainbow Dash, what do the freed slaves want to do? We’ve got to go!” she shouted across the pit.

Rainbow zipped across the area and did a quick spin in the air over Twilight’s head before settling into a hover. “They’re staying in Ishrem! They’re not cool with the Chaos thing, I guess. They’re going to take what they can from the dead guards and start a new life here.”

“Why do THEY get to scrape the dead for spending money? We’re the ones who killed them,” Jerriha pointed out.

Rainbow, Twilight, and Rarity all turned to stare at the Tau Fireblade silently.

“… What? It’s a fair question. Are we space pirates or aren’t we?” she said defensively.

“Didn’t you say you were a slave?” Rainbow asked. “I mean, you make a good point I guess but shouldn’t you be on their side?”

“Taking down a fortified position with armed guards to free them from captivity is ‘on their side’ quite enough, if you ask me. I’m not fighting for ideology anymore,” the alien fumed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Shas’vre, please just let it go. All the better that we don’t have to go rifling through the dead bodies,” Twilight implored her. Then she turned around. “Fluttershy! What’s the status on the alien? We’re getting ready to leave!”

“It’s still very upset and isn’t in a very cooperative mood,” Fluttershy called back, her statement followed by a throaty growl from the subject of the conversation. “Although I’ve gotten the point across that we’ve freed it from captivity and don’t mean it further harm, it’s very defensive and still, erm… I guess ‘inebriated’ would be the technical term!”

“Is the alien a boy or a girl? You keep saying ‘it’,” Rainbow asked.

“I’m not sure, actually. I’d really like the angry drugs to wear off entirely before I started asking it about its sexual characteristics,” Fluttershy answered.

Twilight groaned. “All right, look: we’re heading out and there’s something wrong with the vox that makes communication difficult. Do you want to stay here with the alien? We can come back for you later.”

“Oh, okay! I’ll stay here for now!”

“You’re going to leave her alone with that thing?” Jerriha asked. “She has only one weapon system and it’s completely immune to it!”

Rarity tittered. “Darling, we’re ponies. Our mightiest weapon isn’t guns or blades; it’s our hearts!”

The Tau Fireblade stared silently at her for a few seconds, and then looked over to Rainbow Dash.

“It varies a little bit from pony to pony,” Rainbow admitted. “My mightiest weapon is that shield thing that lets me ram into stuff without dying. My heart is a close second, though.”

“Yo, we ready to go?” Applejack announced as she and Pinkie approached the group.

“I think so, yes.” Twilight turned and addressed all her friends. “Fluttershy is staying here for now, but we’re going to the scrap market next.”

“Shouldn’t we try’n hunt down the slaver boss and finish the job?” Applejack snorted.

“No, I think we’ve actually caused enough damage for now. I don’t want our entire shore leave on a space city to turn into another mission. That said… try to stay together and keep an eye out for anyone shadowing you. I don’t think there’s anyone here more dangerous than we are, but we don’t know how these people will react to someone charging in and wiping out a major business. Let’s go!”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Deck 2-1
Security hall access

“Blasted xeno scum! Come out of nowhere, pretending to negotiate! Then the moment I try to cut a deal the knives come out! Never trust the alien! Never, ever trust the alien!” The head of Ishrem’s slave market growled to himself while he ran between the barricades that led to the security annex, making a beeline for the heavy blast doors at the end.

This area was made to be easily defended, with several raised balconies for gunnery positions, barricades, and a pair of heavy autoturrets in the ports on either side of the door. Time and decay had taken much of the fortifications apart, and scavengers had helped themselves to the rest. The only functional part of the annex that still remained was the entrance that protected the barracks within.

He reached the door and pushed a button next to it. The door didn’t open, but a brief blast of static came from the vox caster above the button.

“Dobbs, it’s Cerimo! Raise the Executor! Some xeno freaks are raiding the place! I barely escaped with my life!” he shouted into the door panel. The he took his hand off the button to wait for a reply.

After a few seconds, he got one. “Xenos, you say? There were no alien vessels detected on approach. What kind of xenos were they?” asked a cool, feminine voice.

Cerimo frowned, and then pushed the button again. “Miss, I need you to get Dobbs right away. This is an emergency!”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” the woman responded dryly.

The slaver slammed a fist against the door panel, and then pressed the button again. “You useless slug! Open this door immediately or I’ll see you spaced!” he snarled.

There was no reply from the vox. However, a moment later there was a click from the door, and it slowly yawned open. Cerimo took a few heavy breaths to get his temper under control, and then rushed in as soon as the opening was wide enough for him.

“Dobbs! Dobbs you drunken freak, where are you?!” he shouted, stepping past the empty guard office.

He stopped in the hall and sniffed the air curiously. Normally this place smelled like cheap synthehol and vomit, but there was a very different scent in the air this time. It was strong, but not especially pungent, and so completely unfamiliar that for a moment he worried there might be some kind of gas leak.

With that moment of hesitation, he detected voices coming from down the hall, in one the barracks. Cerimo set his jaw and rushed toward it, slamming a fist onto the door access button.

“Dobbs! Are you in here you drunk son of… you… uh…”

Cerimo stopped just inside the doorway, shocked still.

“O keeper of the light, guide our darkened path with your radiance,” whispered dozens of voices at once.

The scent was much stronger here, and it finally jolted his memory. Incense. The smell was incense.

“We are your warriors and we are servants to thee, we stand free of blindness to heart, free of hypocrisy, vainglory and deceits, but captive to hatred, malice and anger, to the filth, the alien, the heretic.”

The slaver stared slack-jawed as some forty women knelt in the emptied barracks and said their prayer. Every one of them wore power armor adorned with various crossed, Aquila, and fleur-de-lis. Their helmets rested at their knees, sitting atop their weapons: mostly boltguns, but a quick study of the room revealed many flamers and even the odd plasma gun among them.

At the other end of the barracks was yet another woman in power armor, hers adorned with many strips of parchment fixed to the plating with red wax. She was standing at a podium with a large book placed upon it, carefully perusing its words. She did not look up at Cerimo’s intrusion, nor did any of the others.

He considered apologizing, but ultimately decided against making further noise and started slowly backing out of the room. Before he cleared the doorway, however, the head slaver felt his back touch a hardened metal plate.

“Lord Cerimo,” said a voice behind him, “I’m going to have to ask you to surrender your weapon.”

He turned around, quivering, and was not terribly surprised to see another woman in powered armor blocking his path out. This one had her helmet on, and was holding an enormous two-handed chainsword over her shoulder.

“I… I think I’m in the wrong place, actually,” Cerimo said, acutely aware that the only person he’d given his name to was the woman he’d screamed at and threatened over the vox. “I’ll just be on my, uh…”

She reached for his waist with her free hand and took his stubber pistol. His words trailed off into a whimper, and he offered no further protest.

“You may continue,” the woman said, shoving him backward to clear the doorway.

The door shut, and then locked. The woman at the other end of the room slowly closed her book.

“Meditate, my sisters. Find your peace, so that your wrath shall emerge pure and true when the Emperor desires it,” she announced. Then she beckoned to Cerimo. “You. Approach.”

The slaver gulped, slowly walking across the barracks between the ranks of kneeling women. He had very little idea of what was going on, but he knew who these women were. Not that he’d ever seen any of them before, but the notorious warrior nuns of the Imperium were simple to identify by attire alone. Protected by blessed power armor and equipped with wargear usually reserved for the Astartes (albeit appropriately sized for use by mere mortals), the Adeptus Sororitas – known commonly as the Sisters of Battle – were difficult to mistake for any other fighting force.

The woman behind the podium had a tattoo over her cheek of the fleur-de-lis and a circlet boasting the Imperial Aquila: the twin-headed eagle of the Imperium. Such symbols were relatively rare in Ishrem, and almost never treated with any particular honor, but as the head of the slave market stared into the Sister’s unblinking green eyes he considered that now was an ideal time to start.

“G-Greeting, blessed preacher,” he said uncertainly, “I hope I haven’t disturbed your, ah, what do they call it? Ministrations?”

“You have,” she replied curtly, causing him to flinch. “Tell me your name, Pilgrim.”

He only briefly considered lying, recalling that the other Sister knew his last name and there were hundreds of others on the station who knew who he was.

“Heinral Cerimo,” he said stiffly. “Do you happen to know Richan Dobbs? He was leading the security team here, last I heard. I worked with him on occasion.”

“It sounds like you two were friends,” the Sister said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Cerimo’s heart sank and his face started to go pale.

“Now then, Lord Cerimo: I believe you spoke of xenos while you were trying to force your way in here. Explain.”

“Ah. Yes. Well.” The slaver stood up straight and wet his lips. “How to put this… A group of xeno soldiers arrived in Ishrem, in the… the market where I work. They attacked me and killed my guards, and I barely escaped with my life.”

“Such a harrowing trial,” the woman replied, her expression not shifting at all. “Although it does not strain credulity that a place such as this would have xenos roaming about unchallenged, there are no alien vessels docked to the best of my knowledge. Do you know where these vermin came from?”

“Yes! They bore the markings of the… uh, the blasphemers! They worship the dark gods!” Cerimo claimed. “A merchant fleet docked with us today, and all sorts of corruption and heresy spilled into Ishrem! They must be stopped!”

The woman at the podium nodded. “Indeed. It is imperative. Describe these aliens.”

“Well… a little more than half of them were like us. Walked on two legs, and had hands. They all had on these blue and black armor suits and carried rifles I never saw before that fired big flashy energy blasts. Plasma, maybe?” He shook his head. “I only knew they were xenos because one of them took its helmet off. It had blue-gray skin and black eyes, with no nose on its face.”

“An abomination that cannot be permitted beneath the Emperor’s gaze,” the Sister said softly.

“Right! Yes. For the Emperor, they must be destroyed. Sure.” Cerimo wet his lips. “But the rest of the aliens were stranger. They were smaller, four-legged creatures with long faces and pointy ears on top of their heads, like animals. Most of them wore heavy armor adorned with the traitor’s marks, but there was one that was not. It was… pink.”

The woman quirked an eyebrow. “Pink.”

“Yes. Very pink. Its body, its hair, its tail. Bright pink. Except for the eyes.”

“An oily black, like the very void?”

“No. They were bright blue. Very pretty, in all honesty, but she was strange and annoying. And then the ones in armor started killing my men.”

The Sister frowned, and then took out a dataslate from beneath the podium. She held it up so that Cerimo wouldn’t be able to see the screen, and then started tapping and swiping at it.

He glanced left and right, his nervousness palpable. The atmosphere here was oppressive, and the way the women sitting on either side of the room completely ignoring his presence while they prayed in silence made him feel even more uncomfortable. He found dealing with the drunken, violent thugs that usually made up the security services on Ishrem much more pleasant, and he hoped that not all of them had expired in whatever had happened here.

“May I ask… why… why are you here?” Cerimo asked nervously.

“It surprises you to see devout servants of the Emperor in this blighted place,” the Sister replied. It was not a question, and she did not look up at him as she spoke.

“Well, uh… yes. I suppose it does. No point in denying that,” he coughed into a fist. “Are you here to… to fight the, uh, the heretics?”

“Should the Emperor will it, we would gladly cleanse the rest of this rock,” she said. “For the moment, we MAY be called to a higher purpose. Rest assured, however: the blasphemous scum shall find their final redemption soon enough.”

“The… The rest of… it.” The slaver took a moment to digest that comment. “So… THAT’S why the underdecks were locked down…”

The woman absently nodded, slapped the side of the dataslate she was staring at, and then jabbed at it more forcefully, clearly frustrated with whatever she was doing.

Cerimo tried to steady his heartbeat. “Ma’am, may I ask… is Executor Gaines… still alive?”

“He still serves the Emperor in this world, yes. Ah! Finally!”

With a triumphant smile, she turned around the dataslate. “My apologies, pilgrim; there was much data to shift through on this unit. Tell me, is this symbol at all familiar to you?”

Cerimo stared at the image on the dataslate. It was a starburst emblem of some sort, displayed in mono-color green. It seemed immediately familiar, and it was only due to the lack of proper coloration that he didn’t recognize it immediately.

“… Yes! Yes, I do remember this! It was on the shoulder pad of one of those wretched aliens! The little four-legged ones!”

The Sister looked pleased. “Go on.”

“This was the chatty one with wings on its back and a horn coming out of the forehead. Never took off its helmet, and I think it may have been aided by some sort of witchcraft. It vanished and reappeared at will!”

“And where is it now, pilgrim?”

“I’m uncertain. It was in reactor pit 7 when they attacked me and my men, but by now? No idea. They might be dead, or fled the station for all I know.”

“Reactor 7… that will do, pilgrim.” The woman made a shooing gesture with her hand.

Cerimo considered, very briefly, that he was being dismissed to return to the main deck of the station. That hope died painfully when two Sisters stood up and immediately seized him by the shoulders. Wordlessly they dragged him toward the exit, ignoring his stuttered protests and assurances that he could make it on his own.

Once the man had been carried out, the Sister at the podium opened her book again. She waited expressionlessly, flipping the pages of the tome and slowly scanning the words.

A scream echoed through the halls, followed by the sound of a boltgun’s discharge.

She smiled and looked up. “Another soul speeds to the Emperor’s side. May he be redeemed in death.”

“The Emperor’s mercy is exceeded only by his wisdom,” droned several of the warriors kneeling. “Every human soul will be judged. May the righteous be graced and the unworthy be cleansed.”

“Sisters… it has been a long wait, but it seems that He has smiled upon us for our diligence. Traitors and heretics infest this rock like lice, feeding on the Emperor’s good works and preying on innocent souls. We have been forced to witness this heresy, silent and unblinking, our faith and patience tested for the sake of a greater design. That trial is almost over.”

The other Sisters of Battle began whispering prayers over their weapons and loading them.

“Arm yourselves and steel your souls. We go to war yet again.” The woman at the podium withdrew a small handheld device from within it and brought it up to her lips, depressing a button on the side. “Inquisitor Gholth, I have a lead. The creature is here, as you anticipated. I will meet you in the strategium.”

Mining nexus Ishrem
Sub-deck 2-4
Waste processing adjunct

“Be the flame of righteousness and the hammer of justice.”

“Hello? Techpriest? Command? Anyone?! What’s wrong with this thing?” Lightning Dust asked, tapping her headset with the flat of her wing.

“Comms are down entirely? Can you tell?” asked Mantis.

“I can’t be sure. This kind of unit doesn’t tell me much about the connection like the consoles do, so all I can tell is that the link failed. I hope they’re not just ignoring me,” Lightning grumbled.

“Your hatred is the sword of the Emperor; let your fury cull the forsaken from the stars.”

“Hopefully it’s just something wrong with the sub-deck. Once we’re out of here I want you to try again,” Mantis ordered.

“Are you sure you want to leave already? There might be more clues further in as to what happened here,” Lightning Dust asked.

“Quite sure, Captain. We cannot complete our mission here with the residents dead, so I’d like to withdraw before we run into what killed them. It’s not our job to bring the perpetrators to justice,” Mantis answered.

“Deliver to the heretic with expedience. Then there’s a little ‘less than’ sign and a three. I guess it’s supposed to be a heart?”

Mantis stopped and turned his head around, looking exasperated. “Scratch, was it REALLY necessary to recover all the discarded munition casings from the kill site?”

“But they’re really cool!” Vinyl Scratch protested, dropping the one she was reading back into a little bag that hung from her neck chain next to her Chaos star amulet. “They’re like fortune cookies, but with violence.” She levitated another one, bringing it close enough to read the etching from the glow of her horn. “Kill the heretic. Purge the mutant. Cleanse the unclean.” She let it fall back into the bag. “Dang, I wouldn’t want to be any of those guys!”

“There’s the exit door! Scratch, put them away, I need your full attention!” Mantis declared. “Everypony bunch up! As soon as we clear the doorway we’re heading back to-”

A hefty clunk came from the blast door, and Mantis felt his heart leap into his throat. Then a groan came from the bulkhead as it started to lower itself.

“Defensive positions! Move!” the Hierophant shouted, rushing to the side of the tunnel. He and Lightning Dust ducked behind a wall of scavenged metal siding. The other ponies likewise retreated to cover behind whatever trash was large enough to conceal them, and the guards checked their lasguns.

When the door lowered far enough, Mantis could see four men standing behind it, autoguns raised and pointed into the slum. They all wore environmental suits in varying states of disrepair, and lacked any identifying markers Mantis recognized. The humans sighted an earth pony peeking out over a junk heap and immediately opened fire, spraying bullets into the garbage.

“Hold fire! We are not an enemy!” Mantis barked, ducking back beneath the wall.

“I don’t think they agree,” Lightning Dust mumbled as the bursts of gunfire continued. “Let’s take ‘em down.”

“No! Leave this to me,” the pale-faced stallion insisted. His horns started to glow with a dark purple energy, and then his eyes flashed.

The door finally opened completely, and the gunmen on the other side moved to find their own cover or crouched. They kept shooting into the slum at any spot where they saw a spot of light coming from the ponies’ lumen torches, as the halls were still otherwise dark and they didn’t have any active light sources of their own. The ponies remained suppressed, huddling low under the barrage.

Suddenly, reality seemed to peel away around the soldiers. They were swallowed in a beam of light that seemed to come from all directions at once, and their surroundings appeared to simply wash out into an empty, white void. The men whirled around, confused, clutching their guns to their chests in a rapidly rising panic.

“You don’t have to die here, you know.”

They whirled to find the voice. Mantis was sitting in the middle of the squad, his eyes aglow. The stallion looked up at the gawking soldiers, glancing from one to another.

“What do you hope to accomplish here? Do you know? Did your masters explain what you were getting into?”

“Alien! Witch! Kill it!” shrieked one of the soldiers, unloading his autogun into the stallion.

The bullets vanished into the pony’s body, and another of the soldiers screamed as the burst of gunfire somehow tore through him instead. His body disintegrated into a crimson mist before the terrified humans, vanishing from sight but leaving a blood-colored scar on his corner of the white void.

“Gerkin?! GERKIN!!” shouted another guard in a panic, his weapon quivering in his hands.

“Tragic,” Mantis noted calmly, looking away from the shimmering red mark. “And avoidable. You cannot kill us. But you can be saved, you know.”

“What… What do you want?” gasped a soldier, falling to his knees.

“Peace,” Mantis said. His body distorted, and then he was suddenly closer to the fallen man, their noses just a few inches apart.

“P… Peace?” spat another of the guards. “You’re xenos! Pirates! PSYKERS!! Evil Chaos-worshiping scum!”

“And yet I ask nothing from you except to put down your weapons and allow our passage. There are many who cross our people and perish. I do not want you to be among them,” the stallion’s eyes pulsed, and the surrounding void started to distort. Walls appeared, bearing the same empty white color as everything else but suddenly giving the area a sense of claustrophobic scale.

“I’m not surrendering my weapon to you!” screamed the man who had already fired once at the apparition. “Get up, you cowards! Fight it, kill it!” He raised his autogun again.

Vinyl wet her lips as magic surged around her horn, watching the three remaining guards with the rest of the ponies. The humans seemed to be staring and reacting at nothing while mumbling loudly and staggering about blindly. The non-unicorns were watching in fascinated confusion, but Vinyl Scratch was keyed in to the spell just enough to pick up on what came next.

“That one,” she hissed, thrusting a hoof at one of the quivering guards that was raising his autogun again. “Shoot him on my signal!”

“What? But, the Hierophant said-”

The man let out a tormented scream and raised his gun, suddenly shooting at the ground in front of him. Unlike last time, his shots didn’t hit another guard, and Vinyl thrust her leg forward.

“NOW! FIRE!”

The guard opened fire into Mantis, the bullets vanishing into bursts of colored light on contact with his body. The other men recoiled, gibbering in terror. Mantis turned to stare at his assailant, the glow in his eyes dimming.

The man shooting screamed angrily. His scream went on for two seconds, then four, and then the gunfire stopped but the scream continued. It went on for too long, shifting from an enraged snarl to a shriek of horror and agony. Then the soldier unraveled, his body crumbling into glowing cinders.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Mantis repeated, embers floating around his head. “You have a choice. Peace.”

The remaining two guards whimpered and let go of their weapons. The autoguns seemed to float in the air rather than falling, and then in a few seconds they disintegrated, vanishing into the emptiness. The two men wept quietly, one huddled on the ground and the other standing with his hands covering his eyes and head.

“Thank you, brothers,” Mantis said.

Then his body seemed to evaporate into a dark mist. The mist spread outward, peeling back the whiteness that surrounded the humans. In its wake was left recognizable color and texture, rapidly surrounding the men entirely. Granted, it was the dingy color of grimy metal over stone and the texture of rags and other trash, but it seemed real. The two guards gasped in relief and fearfully looked around the area. One of their number was dead on his back, riddled with bullets. Another was dead on his belly, his back a mess of sizzling lasburns.

Vinyl Scratch crept by behind them, their autoguns floating in front of her. She was followed by the guard ponies in their entourage, all of whom were watching the humans nervously. Mantis walked out from behind the metal sheeting he had used as cover, trotting straight for the two gunmen.

The men recoiled at the sight of the twin-horned creature, backing away to the wall and whimpering. Mantis didn’t seem to mind the reaction, and he stopped just outside of arm’s reach, looking up at them. His eyes were empty of magical light now, and though his horns no longer glowed there were wisps of smoke that rose from the tips, like smoldering candles.

“And once again: thank you,” Mantis said calmly.

“What… What was that? What did you do to us?” asked one of the guards, ripping off the headpiece to his suit. He blinked his bloodshot eyes repeatedly and wiped his sweat-soaked face.

“Dark witchcraft, of course,” the pony explained without a hint of shame or concern. “Not the most profane sort, but much harsher than the tricks you’ve seen before, I’d guess.” He tilted his head to the side. “Who sent you here? And why?”

“Our job is to keep anyone out of the underdecks. With force, if need be,” one of the men said, trying his best to stop quivering before the much shorter creature.

“If you were supposed to keep people out, why was the entrance unguarded? We would have left without difficulty if someone had been posted to turn us away.”

The two surviving guards looked quite embarrassed at the question. “We were, um, not at our post.”

“The blast door was sealed and the lock cogitator smashed,” grumbled the other, his hands held up as if he was being held at gunpoint. “You can open it manually, but who would? There’s no point in standing around to keep people out.”

“Or at least, that’s what we figured until one of the Techpriests asked if there was an environmental hazard in the slum because there was a team crawling around in here and she needed to know if your survival chances warranted correction,” finished the first man. “Personally, I regret coming back. I don’t know why the Executor wants to keep you from meeting the muties, but it wasn’t worth anybody dying over. Not even Daur, bastard that he was.”

Mantis looked over to the other ponies. Vinyl arched an eyebrow. Then the Hierophant addressed the humans again.

“Do you know what’s in there?” the mutant stallion asked.

“Filth, squalor, and the unluckiest bunch of void dregs on this rock,” sniffed one of the guards. Then he glanced over into the entryway to the slum. “Speaking of which, they’re being awfully quiet in there. I figured they’d rush the alley if we opened the doors again.”

“… That would be a ‘no’ then,” Mantis sighed.

“What? What are you talking about? Did something happen in there?” The man holding his arms up finally dropped them. “Are the slum dregs all right? They’re not my favorite folk, but I didn’t think being trapped down here for a few cycles would do any harm. Most of ‘em never leave.”

Vinyl Scratch used her magic to open the pouch around her neck and withdrew a boltgun casing, the worn metal jingling pleasantly against the others. She levitated it above her head, increasing the intensity of her magic so that it would be bright enough to easily see. Then she turned it until she found the beginning of the text etched into it.

“Justice is not delivered with words, but with fire. Let your weapon sing the Emperor’s will,” the unicorn read. Then she cut her magic, letting the casing drop back into the bag.

Of the two humans only one had his face exposed, and Mantis watched in fascination as his expression shifted from confusion to understanding and finally to horror in the space of seconds.

“I suppose you have some insight as to this tragedy, then?” the stallion asked.

“I, uh, realize this is an awkward question to ask an alien goat thing after shooting at you, having my mind broken by sorcery, and you killing half my team, but by any chance is your ship hiring crew?” he asked anxiously.

“Always,” Mantis replied. “Captain Dust, have you contacted the Dark Techpriest?”

“Nope. The blasted vox set still isn’t working,” Lightning Dust complained. “I’ll give it another try when we reach the main deck but any further than that and we may as well just return to the ship and tell them in person.”

“Unfortunate.” Mantis turned back to the humans. “If you would seek work with the Lords of Chaos, then I will vouch for you, brothers. But I must ask what the threat is that you seem to have identified.”

The surviving guards looked at each other doubtfully. “Well, you see, about a week ago there was… an incident.”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Deck 4-9
Black Adder’s Gallery

“An Imperial battlecruiser? Here?”

“Aye. Must have bribed or tortured the location out of a smuggler. They reached the center of the asteroid field and had Ishrem in their sights. The station tried to bring its defenses online, but it never stood a chance. The crew admits half the cannons don’t work and I’m pretty sure they’re lying about the other half.”

Delgan scratched at his chin thoughtfully as he sat across the table from an elaborately dressed woman with a bionic eye and arm. Jewel Bracer sat in the chair next to him, while a pair of grim masked guards sat to either side between him and his contact. The rest of the room was almost totally empty, with only a single pair of men eating in the far corner.

The place had the look of a restaurant and lounge, and made a passable attempt at a luxurious atmosphere despite the crude environs. The walls were made of polished wood and decorated with framed paintings, pict-captures, and old weapons (with any working internal parts removed and sold, surely). One wall was a large armorglass fixture, looking out on the asteroid field. The room was lit primarily with clusters of candles, which Delgan supposed contributed to a “romantic” atmosphere. Helpfully, the dim light also made it hard to easily identify and target individuals from the entrance, which had saved more than one guest from assassination by unhappy business partners or mutineers.

“So what happened? Ishrem couldn’t have fought its way out of the confrontation, yet here it stands,” Delgan asked, lifting a glass of amasec to his lips.

“The battle was brief. The Executor called the patrol fighters and prepared them for a suicide run, but it never happened. The Imperials loosed a few volleys that didn’t break anything important, but when there was no retaliation they stopped. Eventually the ship turned around and left,” the woman snorted, shrugging her shoulders. “A fortunate result for me. Most of the docked ships launched and bolted, but I was in no shape to leave so quickly. Of those that fled, a handful tried to speed past the battlecruiser toward the exit route. They were ripped apart by macro-cannons. Some fled through the asteroid field.”

“Did they survive?” Delgan asked.

“Maybe! They sure as shard didn’t come back to let us know!” laughed the woman. “After that incident this place has been a mess. The traffic is a fraction of what it used to be, the markets are almost bare, you hardly see a station guard anymore, and Executor Gaines is no longer available for meetings or even passing questions.”

“That’s the least disastrous result you can hope for from an Imperial warship appearing at your preferred hideaway,” Delgan mused. “It must have been on a peculiar mission to find a major smuggling base and move on without a fight.”

“Mmm. That or maybe the Executor talked them down. I know the vessel hailed Ishrem on the primary channel but Gaines took it to a different one to parley. Regardless if it were restraint or diplomacy, I doubt I could have gotten out of the docks in one piece otherwise.”

Jewel Bracer quietly tapped away at a dataslate while they spoke, recording the highlights of the conversation. A young woman emerged from a side door carrying several dishes of food and approached the table. The guards stood up and placed their hands on their weapons at her approach, but otherwise didn’t interfere as she started setting out plates.

“Your steak, Lord Trademaster. Steamed fish for Captain Varya,” the server said, setting out the dishes. The last plate had boiled greens, and she circled around the table before leaning down and placing it on the floor next to Jewel Bracer’s chair.

Jewel stopped working at the dataslate, staring down at the vegetables. Then she looked up at the server with an eyebrow quirked.

“She’ll take her meal on the table with the rest of us,” Delgan said calmly, smoothing his napkin over his lap. “Furthermore, she’ll need her own set of cutlery.”

The server looked skeptical while she picked up the dish again, studying the mare’s legs. “It doesn’t have hands.”

“She’ll manage,” Delgan drawled. Then he tapped the edge of his glass. “Additionally, do you have any amasec that hasn’t been watered down with low-grade synthehol, or should I simply expect a discount when the bill comes?”

“I’ll… I’ll see what I can do, my Lord,” the server grumbled, placing the plate of vegetables and a spare fork in front of Jewel Bracer.

“Thank you,” Jewel Bracer said, her voice a bit frosty.

The server recoiled and almost tripped, surprised to hear the pony speak. Then she quickly turned and scurried back to the kitchen. Delgan watched her go with a cold glare, but the woman across from him leaned forward and placed her chin on her hands to watch.

Jewel reached up behind her neck, and a gentle click came from the back strap of her respirator mask. She slipped it off and then placed it next to her table setting, and then took her fork in her hoof.

“Oh, your alien is rather cute,” Captain Varya said with a smirk. “I’m a little disappointed.” She leaned back in her seat again. “What with wearing that mask the whole time I was sure she had a predator’s teeth or a disfiguring injury or something like that.”

Jewel Bracer ignored her and started eating while Delgan chuckled. “Miss Jewel Bracer is one of my new employees from a recent acquisition. I think she gives my entourage a friendlier, more approachable atmosphere, don’t you think?”

“Does she do any xeno tricks?” asked his contact. “Aside from holding a fork with no fingers, I mean.”

Jewel took a bite of her dish, and then briefly dabbed her muzzle with a napkin before replying to Varya. “We possess the power of Friendship,” she said in a dry tone.

“I’m surprised that the power of Friendship is of any use to a Chaos pirate,” the Captain mused.

“She once talked an Iron Warrior out of murdering a work crew, which helped my timetable considerably,” Delgan interjected while he cut his steak. “These little ones are full of surprises, I’ve found.” He pierced the meat with his fork, grimacing at how tough it was. “By the way, Miss Bracer: Inform the fleet at once that there was a recent Imperial presence here. They may wish to take measures.”

“Of course, Trademaster,” Jewel Bracer dabbed her mouth again and then put on her headset. She dropped down from her seat and then stepped away from the table.

“They seem quite pleasant and docile,” Varya mused, smiling while she ate a bite of her fish. “Do you have any for sale?”

“No, I do not. The ponies aren’t quite that docile,” Delgan replied. “If you want one you’re going to have to talk it into joining you. Which isn’t hard in my experience, but I’m much more charming than you are.”

Captain Varya laughed, but before she could offer more of a response Jewel Bracer returned to the table.

“Trademaster, I’m afraid there’s something wrong. I can’t raise anyone on the vox,” the mare said, a small frown on her muzzle.

“Blasted relays in this place have probably been scrapped and sold for spice money,” Delgan huffed between bites. “If the Executor doesn’t do something about vagrants stealing the machines eventually they’re going to get bold and take apart the vaporators and you’ll all suffocate in here.” He pointed at Jewel. “Raise the Dark Techpriests instead. They can transmit the information and hopefully get the relays hammered back together, too.”

“I already tried that,” Jewel said, her voice calm but urgent. “I can’t raise anyone on the vox.”

Delgan froze mid-bite, and Captain Varya arched an eyebrow.

“Really, now? The interference in here isn’t usually THAT bad.” She took a small communicator device, barely larger than a bullet, and rolled it in her fingers before thumbing the switch. “This is Varya. Give me a status report on the ship.”

Her thumb slipped off the vox transmitter and she waited for a response. Nothing but a gentle static crackle came from the device.

Delgan and his contact looked at each other, and some sort of unspoken understanding crossed between them. Delgan put down his fork and gulped down the rest of his amasec, while Varya shoved her plate away and stood.

“It was a lousy meal anyway,” she sighed, pulling on her coat.

Delgan stood up and drew his power sword. “They get worse every time I make port, honestly. Miss Bracer, put your mask back on. We’re leaving.”

“Yes, Lord Trademaster.” Jewel fixed her mask back into place and then slipped the carrying case onto her back again, although she still looked uncertain about what was happening. The boots for her forelegs were pushed out from under the chair, and she quickly slipped them on.

“Oi! Where do you think you’re going?! You lot still haven’t paid!” complained the server, rushing back out into the dining hall.

“And YOU haven’t brought me a better drink,” Delgan sniffed, “so I’ll be accepting a discount on my order.”

“So cheap,” Jewel Bracer mumbled under her breath as she trotted to the exit.

“I’m a resident, just put it on my tab,” Varya said, drawing and checking her laspistol.

“We don’t do tabs, you know that!”

“Now is a great time to start! If we survive, I’ll cover it! If not, then who cares?” She bolted for the exit, rushing past Delgan and Jewel.

The server was getting ready to shout something else, but hesitated. “If… If we survive? Survive what?”

Delgan didn’t pause, but Jewel Bracer slowed next to the exit and then stepped over toward her. “I don’t know either, but… listen. If something bad happens and you need to get out of here, head to dock complex A and make for the big ship. Tell them you need to speak to a merchant seneschal.”

The woman looked perplexed, but she listened carefully and nodded. “Dock A, big ship, merchant seneschal.”

Jewel Bracer smiled under her mask. “You’re not a very good worker and rather rude, but we employ a lot of people like that. I hope you’ll consider the opportunity if this place is in fact at risk of imminent destruction.”

“Miss Bracer! Don’t fall behind!” Delgan barked from the outer hall.

The mare whipped around and sprinted out the door.

Author's Note

The picture of Rot Blossom is by Amberluvsbugs. And speaking of which, I can't believe another image hosting service is down. I'm gonna have to redo most of the links, but there's so many by now! DX
At least it looks like links to Derpibooru work. That's good, but some drawings can't be hosted there. This sucks :pinkiesad2:
Anyway, bonus Mantis, by Glumarko:

Ordos

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 14
Ordos

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Spire 1, primary spool
Deck 36-M

The heavy blast doors slowly crept open, a loud squeal coming from the much-abused gears in the engine. Kaelith clearly found the noise aggravating in the extreme; the melta-mandibles hanging under his head quivered and sparked, as if they were eager to carve into the offending mechanism. Plasma sparked from the machines mounted on the back of his exoskeleton, along with an accelerated rate of exhaust ejection. His face remained patient and expressionless, glaring forward under the glow of bright green orbs.

“It’sh a nice view from up here, ishn’t it?” Solon asked, staring out of an armorglass window at the numerous scrap shacks and prefab structures below. It was not a pleasant image at all, although it may have compared well to the soot-stained buildings of Ferrous Dominus.

One of the five Iron Warriors behind him grunted while they waited for the half-functional door to open. “Are we going to head right back to the ship after this? This place looks… awful, but exploitable.”

“Exploitable, yesh! That’sh why we’re here!” Solon said cheerfully, stepping forward into the gap between the doors. They hadn’t opened nearly far enough to let him through, but the Warsmith simply wedged a leg into the space and levered them open by force. The squealing was amplified horribly, and the others were sure they heard something snap within the door mechanism.

“If you want to explore the place after we’re done here, you can. I would advishe coming back to the ship once you want to resht rather than shtaying in Ishrem, though. There are a lot of thievesh.” Solon pulled back his leg and then walked through the door.

“Contra: it is advisable that subject N-771 remain with us to minimize disruption to local hab-sphere,” Kaelith argued while the Iron Warriors followed Solon into the next room. “Extrapolation: Indulging the subject’s petty demands is escalating operational inefficiencies. N-771 should be held in strategic reserve aboard the flagship when not deployed.”

The talkative Iron Warrior stopped and looked back at the Dark Magos, its helmet visor lenses a bright green rather than the traditional red. “I have a name, you know.”

“Concurrence: You do possess a primary designation, albeit its employment while you are incog is also inadvisable.”

A dark chuckle came from the Changeling Queen’s vox grille. “I’m sure you are perfectly content locked away in your little forge room tinkering with guns for weeks on end, Magos, but my quarters are sadly not so interesting. I need to get out when I have the opportunity to… taste the air a little bit.”

Kaelith spat an airy dismissal in Binaric, and then suddenly set upon the doors. Mechadendrites seeped out of hidden compartments and melta-mandibles released precisely measured bursts of intense heat. Within seconds he had excavated a gear from the wall, and Chrysalis watched in fascination as it vanished underneath the various whirling and quivering machines around his “neck.” A few seconds later it re-emerged again, cleaned of rust and its malformed edges smoothed.

“Where ish the Executor?” Solon asked, reaching the middle of the room. It was a fairly large and clean meeting area, with a spread of old lounge furniture and a desk near the back. There was also no one else in the room other than the Chaos pirates.

“How does this work normally? What do you do here?” Chrysalis asked.

“We trade technical shervicesh for fuel and raw materialsh the shtation minesh from the ashteroid field,” Solon explained, swiveling around to face backward on his chassis, “and information.”

“Information?” The disguised changeling tilted her head to the side.

“We have few contactsh within Imperial shpace. We musht know what coloniesh have been losht or created, where new warsh have broken out, and where the richesht new production centersh are. We download captured data-shtacksh whenever we can, but the information gathered here ish of a particular nature, from many of the mosht prolific criminalsh in the shector.” Then he swiveled back around to face the desk again. “He’sh not ushually late, though.”

A smooth hiss came from the entrance as the doors closed, their internal machinery restored to something close to perfect operating condition. Kaelith rapidly scuttled past the Iron Warriors and crept up to the desk, his body rising to loom over it. A lumen blinked on, and the Dark Magos paused.

“Examination: Vox link inbound. Codex inload at 72%. 79%. 84%.”

Solon straightened up, his chassis legs lifting the bulk of his body higher off the floor. The other Iron Warriors seemed to relax their guard, mag-logging their weapons and leaning against the walls. One even dropped onto a couch, and the furniture creaked terribly under his weight.

A glass node on the desk flickered, and a soft buzzing sound came from the device as it slowly activated. A hololith appeared behind the desk, although the image was terrible; the coloration was all wrong and there were stripes of empty space badly marring the projection. Nonetheless, the hololith was recognizably a man, or at least the upper half of a man. A burst of static came from the transmitted next to the projector node.

“Greetings, Warsmith! This is Executor Gaines! I am pleased to once again act as your host and liaison within our home of Ishrem.” The body of the hololith moved. The Executor was probably bowing, but the quality of the image made it simply impossible to tell.

“Well met, Executor. Thish ish Warshmith Sholon of the 38th Company Iron Warriorsh,” Solon announced. “I have come to negotiate a price for the maintenance ritesh and repair dutiesh performed upon your home. Our vesshelsh require refueling and reshupply from your shtoresh.”

“Yes, yes, very good. I will-“

“Interjection,” interrupted Kaelith from the other side of the hololith. “This interface method is a departure from typical protocol. Explanation required.”

The hololith flickered again as Gaines moved in some fashion that it was unable to correctly display. “My apologies for my impertinence, Magos. Recent security concerns required new protocol for handling guests.”

“Contra: We are not mere ‘guests.’ Tonal designation: Scorn. Divergent interrogative: Why has the primary objective queue not included reactor maintenance? Exhortation: Extended periods without repair will increase the chances of containment loss and critical failure.”

“There are some… unique circumstances that require our reactor to remain isolated for now. It is a private matter,” Gaines said, his tone apologetic.

“Admonishment: A containment failure will be a highly public event, regardless of your wishes,” Kaelith hissed. “Addendum: Do these privacy concerns also explain the transmission failure that crippled internal vox-net and noosphere access after our arrival? Contextual: The objective queue does not request repairs to those devices, either.”

Chrysalis watched the Dark Magos berate the hololith with rapidly waning interest and eventually turned toward one of the Iron Warrior guards. “Does anything exciting happen on these excursions, or do you all just stand here and watch them argue?”

The Astartes was surprised at being addressed directly for what sounded like small talk, but after a few seconds of staring at the shape-shifter he shrugged the massive shoulders of his armor and replied. “We stand here and watch. I’ve heard the station offers diversions and baubles for the mortals to entertain themselves, but there’s nothing of great consequence on this rock and the residents know their place. Little excitement to be had.”

“Disappointing, but I supposed there could be other interesting things to do besides killing,” Chrysalis mused, looking back toward the lift.

“Like what? What does something like you do for entertainment?” a different Iron Warrior standing in the corner asked.

“I kidnap young lovers and feast on their joy,” Chrysalis answered. “Although since I was augmented I don’t have to do that to feed, so I guess it’s more of an indulgence now. Like a dessert, or a sport.”

“You have strange hobbies,” grunted the first Marine. “Be patient, this will not take much longer.”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Docking bay

“All right, Sir! We have 20 lasguns, 20 laspistols, and 80 battery pack magazines usable in either! Please inspect your delivery to ensure that all inventory is present and meets your specifications!” Wind Chime chirped, hovering over a mag-lev cart. “If everything is satisfactory, then I can take your payment and conclude our transaction!”

A young earth pony was carefully moving a trio of crates off of the cart and onto the deck. Behind her stood a single Iron Warrior who seemed to be studying one of the cutters docked nearby rather than paying attention to the delivery. In front of Wind Chime were four residents: three men and woman, all of whom seemed quite perplexed but generally relieved at having to address the cute hovering mare rather than the Chaos Space Marine.

“I’m surprised that these misers let xenos touch any of their wares,” mumbled one of the buyers as the box was opened in front of them.

“They were pretty hesitant at first, yeah! But they learned to trust us ponies and I hope you will too!” Wind Chime said, giggling into a hoof. “Is everything in order? You can test-fire the weapon here if you like! Just aim at the crate lid!”

Under the lid was – as advertised – a stack of recently manufactured Voss-pattern lasrifles. The earth pony bowed her head and then moved to the next crate, pushing a button on top that cause the lid to unlock. She flipped the lid off and let it fall to the deck well clear of the crate.

One of the men took up a lasgun and then rolled it over in his hands, inspecting it. Then he walked to the next crate with the ammunition batteries and loaded it in, flicking a switch on the side. A gentle buzz came from the weapon’s primary capacitor, and a small display on the side beeped and showed the number 99.

The man held it up as if to aim, and his eyes glanced to the side. The Iron Warrior was staring directly at him, glowering silently from behind the helmet’s red visor. The Chaos Marine already had his boltgun in hand, of course. Very few of the humans who had ever seen an Astartes found them without their weapons at the ready. His eyes darted the other way, toward the woman. She shook her head with a grimace.

“… They look good to me,” said the resident with a small cough. “The fabled scions of Chaos would hardly sell us defective weapons, now would they?”

“Depends on which ones, I’m sure!” Wind Chime replied, her voice still perfectly cheery. “Now, the price-“

A loud clunking noise echoed through the deck, startling the various crew. Bright warning lumens turned on, scattering red light across the deck. Apparently whatever alarm system they were part of had been seriously degraded, but it was clear that something important was happening. A tortured squeal came from numerous straining metal components at once, and then huge shutters started descending along the section of the docks that met the rest of the station.

“Hey, wh-what’s happening? What’s the matter?” Wind Chime asked, looking around nervously.

“The dock shutters are closing. Maybe they’re doing maintenance on something and need the atmospheric field turned off.” The man holding the lasgun returned it to the original crate. “Sure would be nice if they told US before the docks got vented.”

“V-Vented? You mean…?” Wind Chime gasped, whipping around to stare at the quivering shield that kept air and pressure from escaping into open space. It had not occurred to her before, but the failure of such a barrier would immediately suck all the air in the docks – and potentially the rest of the station – into space. Considering the state of Ishrem’s more sophisticated equipment, she was surprised by the general lack of alarm among the humans, who merely seemed aggravated.

“Yeah, we probably have three minutes or so before they cut the power,” the buyer said, annoyed but not obviously concerned. “This happens every once in a while when something is on the fritz. Let’s wrap this up, yeah?”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Deck 11-D

Spike grunted as he clambered across the crawlspace, his spinal fins scraping the top even while he was flat on his belly. A small lumen was strapped to his head, illuminating the way wherever he faced, and a few tools tied to his waist rattled and scraped along the floor. The space was only about twice as wide as the young dragon was, with every surface covered in dust.

Spike continued scraping forward until he reached the end of the crawlspace. A metal latch was positioned on the metal paneling there, and he reached out and grasped it before tugging it sharply to one side. The panel did not move. He tried twice more, a growl escaping his throat at each attempt, but the panel would not budge.

“Hey! The access is stuck!” Spike shouted.

After a few seconds, Gaela’s voice came from behind him. “Is the panel locked or irreparably impeded?”

“No, I think it’s just rusted shut!”

“Then try harder,” commanded the Dark Techpriest.

Spike grumbled something unpleasant under his breath and then pulled a screwdriver from his belt. He stabbed it into the seam between panels, and then attempted to pry the seam open while again pulling on the latch. After a minute of scraping, clanking, and grunting, the panel finally jolted open.

“Hah! I got it! All right!” Spike shouted between heaving breaths. “Gaela! It’s open!”

“You are two minutes behind schedule,” Gaela replied. “Proceed.” A clanking noise followed her voice, and then a sharp click.

Spike sighed, and then pushed the panel the rest of the way open. Behind it was another narrow space running perpendicular to the access, with several thick cables attached to the bottom. One of the cables was frayed and clearly damaged, like someone had been cutting through it but had given up halfway.

“Found the damage!” Spike announced, crawling forward to poke his head into the other crawlspace. “You’re sure the power’s off, right?”

“Affirmative. Proceed,” Gaela called back.

Spike took a handheld torch from his belt. He shifted around to get a better angle, using his free hand to adjust the lumen on his forehead. As the beam shifted, he briefly glimpsed something strange off to the side, further down the line of cabling.

He turned to shine the lumen in that direction. A black, multi-legged creature with a spine-riddled carapace sat on the cabling several feet away. Its legs twitched, and its eyelids opened up over a single, milky orb that peered into the lumen’s glare. It looked to be maybe half the size of Spike’s head, although between the legs, hook-like mandibles, and the rapid onset of panic, it was difficult to gauge the creature’s real mass.

Spike felt his heart leap into his throat. The creature raised a pair of claws and scuttled forward, its teeth(?) slicing together like scissors.

“UWAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” Spike screamed in terror, and then spat a jet of green fire just before the alien got into lunging range.

A brief, agonized shriek came from the creature as it was cooked alive in its shell. It eventually rolled away, and its legs curled up under it to form a smoldering ball. The cabling under it sparked and popped as the outer casing was burned and the exposed braids started to melt.

“Status report!” Gaela barked. “Spike! Respond!”

Spike gasped and coughed for a few seconds before he shouted back, “A spider! There was a spider down here!”

The pause that followed seemed curiously judgmental, somehow. “A spider,” Gaela responded, her tone deeply unimpressed.

“A BIG spider!” Spike clarified.

“You are a DRAGON,” the Dark Techpriest reminded him harshly.

“Dragons hate spider bites as much as anyone else!” Spike protested.

“If the passage is clear now, repair the cabling,” Gaela commanded, a strong note of impatience in her voice.

Spike looked over the burnt cabling, wincing. “Uhm… some of this is going to have to be replaced…”

“Then cut out the damaged sections for reconstitution. I am almost finished with the maintenance rites on the regulator.”

“All right, all right… Just give me a minute…” Spike replied, pulling another tool from his belt and tenderly pushing the dead alien further away.

Gaela knelt in front of a bank of battered data wafers, her servo arms rising and falling in minute, precise movements. Sparks blasted from the tips, and occasionally a different arm would briefly beam a laser into the wafer she was working on.

+God of Machines, unholy spark within steel, let your will be unchained,+ Gaela prayed as her mechadendrites burrowed new paths through the wafers. +In your perfection are our labors known. In your function is our will realized. May this device be whole once more.+

Several lumens on the cogitator bank started to blink on and off. Gaela finished with the data wafers and slid them back into place, and then flipped a switch. The lumens turned off. She flipped the switch again. The lumens did not turn on again. She slammed her tri-claw arm onto the cogitator surface. The lumens flickered back on as if chastened, and this time did not blink off again.

“Spike, you are behind schedule,” she announced, pressing a few buttons on the console. The attached screen turned on, albeit slowly.

“Sorry! I’ve cut away the damaged parts! Just gotta… Oof… get the new one in place…”

“Proceed with haste,” Gaela commanded. “I still wish to do a voluntary diagnostic on the vox relays. Their sudden and total failure does not match previous estimations of system decay.”

“Working as fast as I can!” the young assistant shouted back.

A burst of static came from behind Gaela carrying the subtle but familiar distortions of Binaric Cant. +Why do you tolerate that creature? I find its frequent complaints aggravating.+

Gaela glanced back at another Dark Techpriest making adjustments to a fire suppression node. +He is useful,+ she said simply.

+We possess numerous automata and servo skulls which would provide the same services more efficiently,+ the other Techpriest retorted, +and they perform labors without so much noise.+

Gaela felt a flicker of irritation. She wasn’t completely sure why; her colleague’s criticisms were straightforward and rational and his proposed solution was viable. Still, her aggravation stuck in her throat, demanding to be voiced.

“If you dislike working in proximity to Spike you may abandon this task and move on to the secondary vaporators in the adjacent deck,” she said bluntly, “I can perform the remaining rites in this section.”

The other Techpriest turned to stare at her, unpleasantly surprised both by her response and her decision to reply in Gothic. Emerald green lights glowered from under their black hoods, and for a moment the only sounds in the hall were the strained hum of the cogitator and the distant clanking from Spike’s work. Then the other Techpriest removed his servo arm from the node.

+I accept your terms,+ the Dark Techpriest said simply, retrieving a power glaive that rested against the wall.

“Acknowledged. Cycling task roster,” Gaela replied, making the adjustments while she returned to the console.

The other Techpriest reached the door to the next section and gestured to the small cogitator next to the mag-lock. The door was locked and the Dark Techpriests were not given the proper authorization keycodes to undo them, but that was of little consequence. Nobody on Ishrem was capable of encrypting a proper data-ward and the tech-cultists navigated the simple and badly corroded machine spirits guarding the devices with trivial ease. The lumens flickered uncertainly, and then died. A second later there was a muted clunk as the inactive mag-bolt disengaged.

The Dark Techpriest detected an auditory anomaly while the door slowly cracked open. Heavy footfalls approaching rapidly. Metal-clad, likely of power armor grade. The estimated heft – judging from the sound intensity – suggested inadequate weight to be Astartes armor. Likely another tech-cultist then, perhaps in need of assistance.

He had just enough time to re-evaluate his assumption and update his priors before the eviscerator chainsword rammed into his abdomen.

Gaela whirled around at the ferocious sound of a chainsword’s teeth sawing through metal, snapping up her axe in her hand. The head of the sword erupted out the Dark Techpriest’s back, and then his assailant braced a foot against him to shove away his corpse. The dying tech-cultist released a final Binaric transmission, cast as far and wide as he could manage within the station.

+The Ordo Hereticus is here.+

The message was received, decrypted, and inloaded into Gaela’s cortex engine in an eye blink, but she was quite preoccupied. Power armor greaves pounded across the deck as she sprinted toward the attacker in a full charge. She noted the assailant’s power armor embellished with bright red purity seals and a classic fleur de lis, soiled as it was by a jet of oil and blood splashed across it, but the data was immediately filed away for later consideration.

The Sister turned her eviscerator and slashed to intercept the next Techpriest, meeting the charge head-on. A crackling power axe crashed into the eviscerator’s blade, slicing through the teeth and chain of the weapon before lodging into the main body. The impact was jarring, but Gaela managed to follow up first, smashing her tri-claw arm into the helmet of her opponent.

The zealot reeled, but recovered in time to try to block Gaela’s second attack. The heavy chainsword sputtered, its engine revving uselessly while the sundered belt of razor teeth spilled out onto the deck. The power axe cleaved through it entirely this time, and then ripped through the arm beneath. A scream of pain and anger erupted from the wounded woman, and her other hand went for the bolt pistol on her hip.

Gaela’s servo arm snapped closed on the arm before she could draw, the pincer straining and sparking while it struggled to hold the weapon down. Another two servo arms darted forward at the same time, cutting into the power armor with a melta torch and welding laser. The tools were not nearly as effective against a warrior in full power armor as Gaela’s actual weapons, but by the time the enemy wrenched her arm free and smashed them aside, Gaela was bringing her axe about again. The crackling blade ripped through the armored woman, decisively finishing the duel.

Gaela had barely wrenched her axe free when a bolt shell impacted her shoulder plate, knocking her backward. Another round exploded against the wall next to her, and she darted to the side of the doorway, out of the way of the opening between hall sections. She had glimpsed more power armored bodies sprinting through the dimly lit hall beyond, all with weapons drawn.

“Gaela?! Gaela, what’s happening?! Are you fighting?!” Spike shouted from the crawlspace.

“Affirmative! We have incoming hostiles!” Gaela shouted back as she quickly inloaded an override command to the door controls. The creaking slats of metal stopped with a ponderous thud, and then slowly started to move the other way.

“Is it spiders?! I warned you about the spiders! They’re HUGE!” Spike replied with a grunt.

“It is NOT spiders!” Gaela assured him.

Her power axe cleaved into the wall next to the doors, and she ripped a long tear into the aged metal bulkhead. Large gears caked with rust were stuttering into place at a deplorable rate, and Gaela promptly identified the key mechanism and punched her power axe into it. With a frustrated snarl that, in her opinion, counted as an entreaty to the machine spirits, Gaela pulled on the axe handle, using it as a lever to force the doors closed faster. They slammed shut within seconds, and Gaela’s welding laser immediately started fusing the gears together.

“WHOA!! What happened here?!” Spike gasped as he crawled out from under the cogitator. “Is the Techpriest dead? Who is that?”

“That is a member of the Adeptus Sororitas, a soldier of the Imperial ecclesiarchy!” Gaela shouted. The sound of an armored fist striking metal came from the door. “There are more of them! I believe your other queries can be resolved with simple observation!”

“WRETCHED HERETIC!!” roared a rather feminine voice from the next hallway. “SUBMIT TO THE EMPEROR’S HOLY RETRIBUTION!!”

“I decline,” Gaela replied, withdrawing from the door mechanism and turning to Spike. “We must-“

A power sword stabbed through the doors in a burst of blue light, showering similarly covered sparks over the floor. Spike’s eyes bulged. Gaela turned to face the breaching weapon, and then lifted a foot.

The disruption field around the sword flickered, and Gaela slammed her boot into the exposed flat of the blade. The weapon shattered at the impact, and some seven inches of the sword’s tip was sent bouncing across the floor.

“A curse upon your wargear,” Gaela spat, wrenching her power axe free of the hole in the wall. “Spike, let’s go.”

“Okay, yeah!” Spike started to turn, but hesitated when the broken sword was pulled back out of the doors. “Uh, they can’t get through righ-“

“RUN, Spike,” Gaela said, bolting down the hall.

The dragon yelped and did so, scurrying after her as fast as he could. Behind them, in the hole ripped through the blast doors, an anti-armor krak grenade was hammered into place. The pin was pulled, and then a half-dozen voices boomed through the rusting hallways in tandem.

“BURN THE HERETIC!! KILL THE MUTANT!! PURGE THE UNCLEAN!!”

Spike flinched when he heard the sound of rapidly tearing metal behind him, but this time he didn’t try to look back. Ahead of him, Gaela’s greaves banged incessantly against the deck plating while she ran, creating a tremendous din that echoed through the lonely corridors. No matter how many times he’d seen it, he was always shocked at how fast the humans and Astartes could move in full armor; the powered suits of the Dark Mechanicus seemed to bear their own weight so well that the user may as well be running unencumbered.

Thinking back to the body he had briefly seen on the floor at Gaela’s feet, he hoped the armor of these “Sororitas” people was not so well crafted.

“Ga-Gaela! Wait up!” Spike gasped, dropping on all fours to try to keep up with the Dark Techpriest. “Don’t leave me behind here!”

“Grab the haft,” she said, suddenly moving her grip up the length of her axe.

“The haft? What do-YEEK!” Spike nearly got smashed in the face as Gaela thrust the butt of her axe behind her, but jumped at the last second and grabbed on. “C-Cutting it a little close there!” he complained as he was carried along with the weapon.

“Just close enough, it would seem.” Gaela’s servo arm swiveled around and clamped onto Spike’s tail, carrying him up and onto her back. “We must proceed to the vox relay and transmit a warning.”

“Who are those people? What are they doing here?” Spike asked breathlessly.

“Those people were the Sisters of Battle, the Chamber Militant of the Ordo Hereticus. They serve the Imperial Inquisitors,” Gaela explained. “As for what they’re doing here, I cannot say. This is entirely unanticipated. Granted, there is presently a great deal of heresy on Ishrem, but motive alone does not explain their presence. This isn’t even the correct Ordos to address something like a Chaos fleet.”

Gaela’s boot squealed against the deck plating as she turned a corner. Down the hall were a pair of vagrants leaning against a large crate who seemed to be in the midst of conversation, but they immediately stopped and stared as a cloaked figure in power armor carrying a purple creature on its back barreled toward them. Gaela, for her part, was willing to simply sprint past, but Spike leaned to one side and shouted to them.

“Hey, we have Imperials! Spread the word, guys! They’re coming for us!”

At first the residents were perplexed by the sight of a small, round purple and green creature shouting at them, but evidently they understood Spike well enough. With little delay they too broke into a run, bolting in the same direction as the Techpriest. They started to fall behind right away, but Gaela paid them no heed. Spike offered them a concerned grimace, but reasoned he’d done all he could before he climbed over onto Gaela’s shoulder.

“Are they going to be okay if these Sororitas people catch them?” the young dragon asked.

“The Sisters of Battle concern themselves with slaying heretics above all else!” Gaela explained.

“Okay… and they’re not heretics, right?”

“Unfortunately, who is and is not a heretic is often a matter of intuition and opinion! It may be that any citizens standing between us and the agents of the Inquisition, however incidentally, are aiding and abetting heresy! The Inquisition can be permissive like that!”

Gaela reached out to the door to the main cavern, still some 50 feet away. The console flickered to life, and the doors started to open at her beckoning.

“They won’t follow us into the population center, will they?” Spike asked, nervously glancing down the hall behind them.

“The Sororitas would follow us onto the ship if they could. They are often suicidal in their fervor. It is one of their more respectable traits,” Gaela grunted back, “but I’ve little idea what their current mission protocol is. We should assume all of Ishrem is compromised.”

“Right, okay. So first you’ve got to fix the communications thing.”

“I suspect it is not broken. At least, not by accident.”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Spire 1, primary spool
Deck 36-M

“Remonstration: These supplies are well below operational projections. Analytic: Without additional compensation the fleet would profit more with minimal refueling and an immediate departure. The time necessary to perform the few scheduled repairs is non-optimal,” Kaelith hissed, his body looming over the hololith. The melta cutters under his head twitched toward each other like the mandibles of some agitated insect, creating a very disturbing image for the man on the other end (assuming that hololith projector was in better condition, at least).

“That may be true, Magos, and I apologize for our meagre offerings, but circumstances are what they are,” Executor Gaines said sadly.

Kaelith whipped around, a loud and disapproving bleat coming from his vocal emitter. +I dislike speaking to this man while he is outside of laser range,+ he snarled in Binaric Cant while he scuttled away.

Solon chuckled, beckoning to the hololith. “Deshpite the inefficienciesh, we’ve already given our crew leave for the cycle, sho thish will have to do. You may begin the transhfer immediately. The Techprieshtsh have already begun their laborsh at the asshigned shtationsh.”

“Very good, thank you!” Gaines said, the hololith again distorting horribly as he bowed. “Oh, but I do have one additional question, Lord Warsmith. I know it may be unconventional – usually I provide YOU with data on potential objectives – but I’m on a bit of a hunt and I’ve been asking around.”

“What ish it?” Solon prompted the man. “I won’t trade relevant data for nothing, of courshe.”

“Perish the thought, Lord Warsmith.” Gaines started working at the console below him, and a vid-screen in the back of the room slowly flickered on. The color seemed broken at first, appearing as a sequence of randomly colored bars, but then it flickered and the correct image appeared.

Solon stared. Kaelith stopped pacing behind him and stared. The Iron Warriors escorting them weren’t all paying attention, but those that did were suddenly brought to alert, standing up straight and readying their weapons. Those Chaos Space Marines that weren’t paying attention noticed the ones that were and looked at the screen. Then they too straightened and were visibly on alert, making it absolutely clear to anyone watching that they recognized the image.

“… I take it this is familiar, then?” Gaines asked.

“I… can’t shay, at a glance,” Solon said, doing a slightly better job of playing dumb than his soldiers. “What ish that shupposhed to be, shome kind of shquad emblem?”

The image on the screen was a bright purple star over a white starburst. Nothing that any of them had seen in all their travels across the galaxy and through the Warp, until they had visited a primitive little world on the edge of Tau space. The image was Twilight Sparkle’s cutie mark.

“I don’t really know what it is, Lord Warsmith. I was hoping you could educate me,” Gaines said, coughing into a fist. “I can offer you material aid in return, of course.”

“You don’t know what it ish? Then why are you showing it to me?” Solon demanded. “Did you shee shome colorful shcrawl on a hydro cell and decide that you had to ashk the next Chaosh Lord you encountered about it? How did you get thish?”

The man in the hololith gulped, his sudden fear very visible through the broken image. “That… It’s very… hard to explain, Lord. But I was told this image was significant…”

“Told by WHO?” Solon demanded, his front legs lifting up onto the desk. “Tell me where you got thish, Executor.”

“The, uh, origin of this image does not wish to be identified,” Gaines admitted, stumbling over his words, “perhaps it would be best if-“

“Magosh,” Solon interrupted, turning to glance at Kaelith “trace him. We will continue thish convershation on more favorable termsh.”

“Wh-What?!” Gaines yelped.

“Status: Preliminary triangulations place likely transmission origins at seven points with >82% probability. Analyzing structural factors…”

Solon swiveled around to address the other Iron Warriors. “Prepare for a fasht breach and asshault. If we encounter defenshive pershonnel, capture the firsht one you encounter for interrogation. You may shlay the resht.”

“Ohhhh yes, now THIS is a trip,” Chrysalis cackled, her visor pulsing green.

“All right, that’s quite enough. This deception has become stale,” came a new voice from the hololith.

When Solon swiveled back around, the Executor was no longer being projected. The quality of the projector hadn’t improved at all, so the particular features of the new person weren’t clear, but it was definitely another man. His face – what could be seen of it – had a bulky, obtrusive bionic implant over the right side of his head, and his hair was sparse and messy. His outfit belied his rather crude appearance, however, being much neater and more formal, with a shaped armor vest of polished metal.

His coat also carried a symbol that was distinguishable despite the poor quality of the hololith. It was a large, stylized letter “I” with a skull in the center: the emblem of the Imperial Inquisition.

“… All right, now I have NO idea what’sh going on,” Solon confessed.

“I am in no position to enlighten you, traitor,” the Inquisitor said, his tone cold and calm. “This has been a learning experience for me, too. But I hope to learn a few more things before your imminent demise, if you would indulge me.”

“Executive: Immediate redeployment,” Kaelith said, his body swinging around and scuttling for the exit.

“I must ask you wretched marauders to remain in this room until we are finished,” the man in the hololith said. “To incentivize this, I’ve mined the spire you’re currently in with demolition charges.”

Kaelith froze on his way to the lift, like a cogitator suddenly freezing to inload a vast host of new calculations. Solon turned to look at his escort, his optics lingering on one Chaos Marine in particular. Then he turned back to the hololith.

“You have a cohort of elite Chaosh Shpace Marinesh caught in your trap and you’re… telling ush about it?” Solon asked, skeptical. “You’d rather talk than wipe ush out in one fell shwoop?”

“You flatter yourself,” the man deadpanned, “but you have a point. I suppose it would be rational to guess I’m bluffing, high as the stakes are in this particular gamble. So, allow me to put your mind at ease.” He raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Scrap market
Deck 9-B

“What do you mean you don’t serve ponies? Do you have ANY idea what I’ve already been through today to get here?! What kind of establishment is this?!” Rarity seethed, staring up at the woman in front of her.

The resident was slim, almost gaunt looking, with gold-dyed curly hair and obscenely long nails caked in glitter. She was standing in front of a long, windowless structure designated only as “The Wash” by a colorful and entirely unpowered electric sign bolted over the entrance. The woman had no obvious weapon, but she possessed a spray bottle and scissor at her hips, holstered in a hanging cloth belt. Hardly the sort of tools one would want while staring down a unfamiliar creature that was armed and armored, yet her sneer was utterly fearless.

“I don’t see what’s so hard to un’erstand. I serve HUMANS,” the proprietor said with a strange but distinctive drawl. “Occasionally muties, too. Depends. But I’m not messin’ wit any xeno hair. ‘Specially wit… THAT,” she flicked a single finger in the direction of Rarity’s forehead.

Rarity recoiled, an expression of deep shock etched in her features. “My… horn? What’s wrong with my horn?!” she demanded, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Bad look. Creepy. Bit phallic. Dun like it.” Her dark red lips pressed into a line. “Almost looks like somethin’ could… shoot out of it.”

“WHAT?!” Rarity recoiled, her scowl intensifying. “How DARE you?! What kind of establishment is this?! I came here to get my mane washed, not to have my physiology judged by some drug-addled harpy!” she snarled back.

Pinkie Pie suddenly leaned in from behind her. “Okay but sometimes magic does shoo-“

“NOT NOW,” Rarity barked, shoving the other mare away.

Then Rarity took a deep breath and regarded the grim-faced hairdresser with an icy glare. She planted a boot against her chest plate, emphasizing the Chaos Star colored with beaten gold. “You really have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you? Do you know these colors? Do you think the Chaos Marines hand these suits out to every talking animal they encounter?”

“Get to the point, freak. Time ‘s money.”

“I AM TRYING TO PURCHASE YOUR SERVICES, YOU PAINTED HAG!!” Rarity shouted, her horn suddenly pulsing with magic.

In the heat the moment Rarity had fed some power to her horn, surrounding it with an icy blue glow. The hairstylist recoiled, her hand darting toward her hip. Rarity’s magic wrapped around the scissors in her belt, pinning them into place in the loop they were suspended from. To Rarity’s surprise, that was not the tool the stylist drew.

“BACK, XENO SCUM!” the woman barked, snatching up the water bottle in her hand and releasing a gentle puff of mist spray into the unicorn’s face.

Rarity yelped and flinched away. The woman sprayed her twice more, taking an aggressive step forward. Rarity whinnied and retreated, her eyes squeezed shut.

“Stop that! Quit it!” the unicorn shouted while she flailed.

“Get outta here! GET! NO ALIENS ALLOWED!”

The rest of the Equinoughts, as well as the scrap market in general, pretended not to see the conflict, thoroughly embarrassed by the fuss. The other armored ponies strolled easily through the tables of parts, food, and assorted goods, drawing numerous anxious stares but no complaints. The other shop keeps, for their part, did recognize their armor style and understood what it meant. Some also discreetly noticed the bullet dents and scorch marks on their armor, as if they had just arrived from a fresh battle. Nobody in this section of the station kept guards.

“So what’re these things? They look like… uh… not edible.” Applejack had her helmet disengaged, and she was closely scrutinizing a pile of twisted, soggy brown lumps as politely as Honesty would allow.

“Call ‘em rust weeds. They’re some kind of fungus you can grow with just moisture and heat, and they spawn best on old metal,” explained a dirty man wearing heavy goggles. “My partner has a space where he grows them on the wall of the reactor ventilation tubes. Place is like a sauna, which is perfect for ‘em.”

“They smell awful,” Applejack admitted.

“They taste worse,” the seller replied, “but it’s enough to get you through the day, and they’re perfectly safe to eat. More than you can say about that ‘meat’ Johnstone’s selling for thrice as much!”

“Do they ferment?”

“No. Believe me, we’ve tried. A LOT.”

Twilight peered closely at a battery pack made of three cells taped together. The merchant on the other side of the table studied her with equal intensity. This stall had all sorts of small, simple machines, from torch lumens to mag-locks.

“So… what’s your story, anyway? Some kind of new Chaos mutant?” the man asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No. Alien,” Twilight corrected, moving from one battery unit to another. “Don’t worry, we’re friendly.”

The shop keep’s eyes darted toward a crack in Twilight’s shoulder pad. “That’s some awful strong battle armor you’ve got there.”

“Yes. Not everyone is as friendly as we are,” Twilight said regretfully. Then she looked up at the merchant. “Did you know this battery has a radiation leak?”

“Oh? What’s wrong with it, exactly?” the man asked, frowning.

“The contact plate isn’t secured properly. The corner seam is releasing trace radioactive material. It will probably get much worse if someone were to charge it,” Twilight explained.

“Ten percent off,” the shop keep replied.

“Uh… I don’t think you understand. This could make someone very sick with regular exposure,” Twilight continued. “If it’s going to be stashed away for an emergency I suppose that’s one thing, but for regular use this could kill someone!”

“Fifteen percent off,” he countered, “plus I’ll tack on some silvertape for free to cover up that seal.”

“Just… Just put up a sign or something, okay?” Twilight sighed before turning away.

When she turned around, Rarity was standing behind her with a grim expression on her face. The unicorn’s mane was damp and frayed, with several curls sticking to the gorget of her power armor. Her eye shadow was also starting to run, giving the impression that she had been crying, but Twilight made every effort not to notice.

“Twilight, I have an ethical quandary that demands your attention,” Rarity said, her voice cool and calm.

“No Rarity, we’re not going to attack the beauty parlor and make them do your mane,” Twilight replied firmly.

“But Twilight, she’s racist,” Rarity retorted, her ears pinning back and her lower lip trembling.

“Yes. We all heard,” the young Princess admitted. “So I don’t think you’re going to like what happens if we force her to style you.”

“Why do you even need this place, anyway? I don’t understand it at all.” Jerriha came up behind Rarity, a hand planted on her hip. “What kind of tools do they have here that they don’t have back on the ship?”

“As a matter of fact it’s very difficult to get Techpriests to build quality brushes and curling irons,” Rarity said, drawing herself up before the Fireblade. “But that aside, the tools are just a small part of it. Makeup and manestyling is an ART! And that means you need a proper artist for results!”

“And that human female is your artist? Really? She looks like someone dunked her head in a plasma coolant cistern,” Jerriha said with a chuckle.

“Don’t be so judgmental, dear. Your species barely HAS hair,” Rarity sniffed.

“ANYWAY, the angry lady’s taste or skill hardly matters when she won’t serve ponies,” Twilight interjected, gently placing her boot on Rarity’s gleaming shoulder pad. “I’m sorry Rarity, I know you were looking forward to this.”

“It’s much more than mere disappointment, dear,” the unicorn seethed. “I have been insulted, humiliated, shot at, and soaked since I set hoof on this harmony-forsaken rock, and I for one am DONE. I’m going straight back to the ship before something else happens!”

An explosion suddenly erupted from one of the massive columns in the middle of the station, throwing chunks of burnt metal into the air around a blooming fireball. The roar of the detonation rolled through all of Ishrem, and everyone in the scrap market stood up or whirled around to watch in shock. The spire didn’t collapse, but as the smoke started to rise it was obvious that a huge gouge had been blasted into the structure.

Rarity pursed her lips and looked forlornly at Twilight. “We don’t HAVE to go check on that, do we?”

“EXPLOSIONS!” Rainbow Dash said with just a little bit too much glee, flying overhead and stopping over the edge of the deck platform. “C’mon guys! Let’s go help! Or make things worse! Depends on what’s happening, exactly.”

“Right behind ya, Dash!” Applejack shouted, galloping past with a gait heavy enough that the objects on the surrounding tables quivered. Pinkie Pie was on top of her, standing her front legs atop the armor cowl and grinning happily.

Twilight patted Rarity on the shoulder pad again. “Come on. Let’s go see if there’s any more helpless primates to save.”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Spire 1, primary spool
Deck 36-M

The sound of straining metal filled the room as the shaking from the detonation finally let up. The overhead lumens and the hololith at the desk flickered, but power kept flowing. Only one person had fallen over from the explosion, jarring as it was; such a jolt wasn’t usually enough to knock over an Astartes and Kaelith’s body had excellent stability. One particular Iron Warrior had been bowled over when the floor moved, however, and that one groaned and started crawling over to the wall to push itself up.

“I trust that demonstration was sufficient?” said the man in the hololith. “Or shall I activate another charge? I’m not sure the spire will endure more than one blast, but that’s more your problem, really.”

“Who am I shpeaking with? What am I to call you?” Solon demanded.

“You will address me as ‘Inquisitor’ where necessary but I don’t anticipate there will be much confusion about who is addressing whom,” the Inquisitor said sternly. “Now, then-”

“Are we shtill getting refueled?” Solon interrupted.

“… What?”

“I jusht finished negotiating the price for the shervicesh of our Mechanicush contingent. Ish that shtill valid? That changesh numeroush projectionsh if it ish not,” Solon explained.

“Are you being serious?” the Inquisitor asked.

“Yesh. It occursh to me that you would obvioushly not want to allow the fleet to shupply before we depart, regardlessh of whether we do the job or not. However, the shecrecy of your operationsh may force you to remit payment sho to maintain your deception. Which ish it?” Solon asked.

“Extrapolation: The Inquisitor intends to detonate the charges and eliminate us once he has acquired the necessary data /ALTERNATE/ deems our cooperation improbable,” Kaelith interjected.

“Well that’sh a terrible idea. We’d have no reashon to cooperate,” Solon responded, “but that shtill doeshn’t addressh the refueling matter.”

“If I say yes: your fuel will be transferred once all the repairs are done and you’re all dead, can we move on to my questions?” the Inquisitor griped.

“Well not anymore, no. Now there’sh a whole new shticking point.”

“I don’t care,” the Inquisitor snapped. “Now then: how do you know of this symbol? Where did you see it in the past? Do you know what it means?”

Solon’s optics shifted while the Inquisitor spoke, slowly turning in a circle. Next to the far wall, under the sight line of the vid-sentry recorder that was surely keeping watch on the room, a snake with green eyes was slowly creeping up the wall toward an air vent. It had a large red bulge in the middle that was obviously a mechanical component and didn’t properly meld at all with the scales around it, and Solon wondered – not for the first time – if he could have done a better job designing Chrysalis’s cybernetics to work with her shapeshifting magic.

“I’ve sheen that shymbol before. Sho what?” Solon offered the Inquisitor. “Where did YOU shee it, and why ish it sho important to you that you’d rather follow up a lead on it than kill a handful of traitorsh?”

“I’m asking the questions here, heretic scum,” the man retorted.

“If you’re not even going shate my curioshity it’sh beyond my comprehenshion why I should cooperate. You’re jusht going to blow up the shpire when I tell you what you want,” Solon reasoned.

The snake slipped its head into the air vent, and then started sliding its body into the shaft.

“I’m simply trying to pry whatever tidbits I can from your Warp-addled brain before I rid this galaxy of another few vermin,” the Inquisitor shrugged. “You are correct, of course: the information I seek isn’t worth letting you scum go free, so I won’t waste your time with false bargains for-”

The core in the middle of the snake suddenly slammed into the vent cover, being too large to fit through the gaps.

The Inquisitor halted, and then glanced up at something. “What was that?”

“What wash what?” Solon asked. “You were talking, I didn’t shay anything.”

The snake slipped backward a few inches and then tried to pull through again, slamming the core into the vent even louder. The metal started to give a little, and the snake backed up and did it again. And then again.

“What’s that banging noise?” the Inquisitor demanded. “Is someone trying to remove the deck cladding over there? It’s no use.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. I don’t hear anything but your shtuffy and inadequate attemptsh at interrogation,” Solon replied.

“Concurrence: Zero audio anomalies detected. Hypothesis: Signum decay stemming from poor maintenance rites may cause unexpected aural feedback,” Kaelith added, his naturally stilted speech doing a good job of covering his desperation.

The snake slammed the core into the vent again, and one of the thin metal slats broke off. It quickly pushed through entirely, escaping into the ventilation shaft.

“Why are you worried about revealing data to ush, anyway?” Solon chuckled. “You have ush cornered, don’t you? You’ve jammed outgoing transhmisshionsh and my army doesh not know you’re here. Why not tell me why you want thish alien?”

“Alien?” the Inquisitor asked, straightening.

“Yesh. Alien. You didn’t know?” Solon leaned back on his chassis. “How did you come all thish way and go to all thish trouble without knowing that much? What ish thish shymbol to you?”

“You persist in asking questions,” the man replied irritably.

“You will endure, Inquisitor,” Solon said dryly.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Spire 1, primary spool
Spire exterior

Chrysalis hammered the vent cover with her head, jarring loose the old, rusted screws. Three of them were ejected from the cover’s corner mountings and the plate was left to hang from the remaining one, swinging back and forth under the now-open ventilation shaft. The snake slowly poked its head out into the air, its green eyes glowing in the shadows of the tunnel and its tongue flicking out to taste the air.

Smoke billowed up from below, spoiling what would have surely been a grand view of the decks and platforms below. A quiver ran down the Changeling Queen’s long, serpentine spine at the hot, acrid taste. She preferred more abstract flavors of danger: men at the edge of violence, equines pushed to desperation, and cyborg dullards who constantly observed her like a colorful puzzle to be unlocked and then discarded.

At the bottom of her eye blinked a message transmitted to the delicate and mysterious cybernetics within her head: Breach exterior; disable charges

Chrysalis slithered out onto the sloped surface of the spire exterior, her serpentine body finding easy purchase among the protruding rods and dented bulkhead plating that protected the interior office. Down below, roughly halfway down the full length of the column, was a still-smoldering wound carved into one side of the spire. It was impossible to tell the full extent of the damage with the smoke obscuring it, but Chrysalis guessed that the column would probably remain standing under the current damage and that it wouldn’t suffer another explosion nearly so well.

She stopped once she spotted her target: a gunmetal box attached to the edge of the flaming gouge in the spire. It had some kind of rusty scrap plate on the outside to obscure it, but a green lumen was attached to the block beneath, as well as a short rod that was surely a signum receiver. Her optic bionics confirmed it, bracketing the explosive and then identifying it as such. On the platform below there were people rushing about; some were clearing away debris, and others looked to be trying to get into the spire lift with no success.

Chrysalis stared down at the explosive through her glassy green eyes, unmoving. She had no idea if the charge might go off when she tried to remove it. Or if the “Inquisitor” would get so aggravated with Solon’s attempts to stall that he’d just blow them all up before she got the chance. But more importantly, what would happen if she simply changed forms and flew away?

“I’m already free,” the snake said quietly to herself, her forked tongue flicking from her mouth. “I could simply leave, half the wretches that run this fleet would perish, and there’s nothing any of them could do. I could join the humans here, or sneak among these strange aggressors, or simply find the equines and wait for my leash to slip a little further. It’s MY decision now, isn’t it? Their lives are in my hooves.”

Chrysalis lifted her head, looking down at the people below. The oblivious humans scurried around in a panic, shouting orders and dragging the injured away from the blast zone. After a few seconds the sound of exceptionally loud gunfire came from across the spool. Boltgun fire. A few of the humans trying to help were struck, their bodies pitching violently to the side before landing in rapidly growing pools of blood. The rest of the residents fled immediately, scattering to the relative safety of the surrounding buildings and shacks.

“…… Bah, who am I kidding?” Chrysalis chuckled, curling her body around to slip her tail around the explosive charge below. “I’ve never had such fun as when I’m bailing these maniacs out of trouble. Besides, it might be somewhat beneficial to have the Warsmith indebted to me for saving him and that ridiculous clockwork centipede.”

The snake’s tail tightened around the bomb and twisted, ripping it free of where it had been stuck onto the column’s exterior. Then she swung her tail underneath her and let go, sending the demolition charge plummeting onto some random shack a (probably) safe distance away. With that done, she started slithering across the rods and crannies to find the next explosive.

“… Maybe I AM getting a bit soft after all,” she mumbled to herself as she spotted another charge.

“Woah! An alien snake! Cool!”

Chrysalis flinched and then snapped her head around and upward. Rainbow Dash was hovering just outside of the smoke column, far above her. The pegasus darted forward and then cut power to her flight pack, dropping down to the changeling’s level before hovering again.

“The explosion must have set it free,” Rainbow reasoned, having her visor zoom in on the strange creature while she remained out of striking range. “I need to contact Fluttershy and see if she can pick up another critter. This place is like some kind of run-down space zoo.”

“It’s me, you idiot,” Chrysalis hissed, her eyes flashing green.

“What? Chrysalis?!” Rainbow briefly moved into an offensive pose, and then remembered that the Changeling Queen was (mostly) on her side. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m just touring the space station a little. Seeing the sights. Discovering new worlds and new alien civilizations. Exploring the final frontier. Demining this massive building that has the boss cyborgs in it,” she slipped her tail down toward the next charge, wrapping it around the explosive block.

“Demining?” Rainbow furrowed her brow, and then looked over toward the demolition charge. Data-screed washed over her visor screen and the object was picked out in red, but Rainbow found it terribly distracting and banished it with a blink. “So there are more bombs rigged to blow?”

“Yes.” Chrysalis paused, and then a wave of bright green washed over her body. Her form remained that of a large jungle python, but the color of her scales had changed to match the spire’s exterior almost perfectly.

Rainbow Dash blinked. “What was that about? Are you trying to hide?”

“Yes,” Chrysalis said again, carefully squeezing the explosive with her tail and prying it off the bulkhead.

“Why?” Rainbow asked right before a boltgun round slammed into her flank.

The pegasus yelped as she spun around in the air, instinctively beginning to evade. An outline of her armor briefly appeared and started flashing obnoxiously, as if she might not have noticed that she had been struck by a bullet that could knock over a minotaur. Two more shots cut through air toward her, but now that she was in motion she was a much more difficult target.

“What’s going on here?! Is that slaver guy back for round two?!” Rainbow Dash growled, spinning away from the spire and speeding up. She pinpointed the source of the gunfire and her visor display zoomed in on it while she cruised overhead.

“… Space Marines? What? Those aren’t our guys!” Rainbow exclaimed in alarm. With a blink she took a pict-capture of her assailants, and then barrel-rolled away right before another bolt round rocketed toward her.

She banked hard to fly around the central spire, trying and failing to spot Chrysalis again before she picked up speed through the air. Only one more bolter shot chased her on her retreat, whipping over her flight pack in a near-miss. Rainbow passed over the central spool platform and then descended rapidly, dropping down between a pair of shacks made from repurposed shipping containers.

“Guys! GUYS!” Rainbow shouted, stopping over the other Equinoughts. “Something weird is going on here! We have Space Marines! Not Iron Warriors!”

Twilight lurched backward in surprise. “WHAT?! There are Imperial Astartes in the space station?!”

“Yeah! Hold on, lemme show you!” Rainbow spent a moment blink-clicking back and forth, summoning the pict-capture and exloading it to the squadron channel.

“Those… ain’t Space Marines,” Applejack said, squinting at the image on her display. “Too small.”

“Are those women? I think they are! Look at the shape of the torso plating of their power armor,” Twilight said, fascinated. “That’s definitely not an Astartes model.”

“Really? Oh, blast, now I really regret not bringing my helmet,” Rarity complained. “I’d LOVE to see a power armor suit shaped for the fairer sex! A proper one not riddled with machines like Gaela’s.”

“They’re females? Equipped like Astartes?” Jerriha shrugged. “My understanding is that power armor is most common among the Space Marines and Mechanicus, but there are patterns available for normal humans as well. Boltguns too, although they don’t pack QUITE as much power.”

“Okay, well I guess they’re some human girls in power armor carrying huge guns who aren’t Space Marines. Whatever,” Rainbow Dash scoffed. “What matters is that they shot me! I was just floating around over the blast site talking to Chrysalis and they shot me for no reason!”

“Chrysalis? What’s she doin’ here? Did she cause the explosion?” Applejack asked.

“She said no and that she was actually removing the bombs, but I dunno. I couldn’t keep track of her because the not-Marines tried to kill me and I had to break off,” the pegasus grumbled. “She looked pretty suspicious to me, hidden up on the column near the explosion, but I definitely saw a bomb and I don’t think she put it there.”

“Well, are you sure these mysterious armored ladies aren’t with Ishrem’s security?” Rarity asked. “A spire just exploded and you were buzzing around it talking to a shapeshifter. Fairly suspicious!”

“Definitely not,” Twilight decided. “This wargear is too sophisticated and the design too ornate. I’m seeing a lot of Imperial iconography here. We should presume these are Imperium soldiers.”

“Right-o! So what does that mean, exactly? What’re we doing here?” Pinkie asked.

“We’re going to kill them, right? That’s what we did to the last batch,” Jerriha lifted her pulse carbine and toggled on the power feed.

“No, we’re not going to kill them,” Twilight insisted, sounding exasperated. “We don’t know who they are or what they’re doing here or how many there are. We’ve already stumbled into a firefight today and I don’t think we’re in great shape to take on opponents better armed than the slaver’s guards.”

“Okay, so what if we head back toward the ship, pick up Fluttershy and her new monster friend on the way, grab Rarity’s helmet and the Pain Train, and then come back and fight them?” Rainbow asked.

“Please don’t call it the Pain Train. You keep calling it that and I’d really prefer you didn’t,” Pinkie said with utmost seriousness.

Twilight thought about it for a moment. “First, we need to get the word out here that there’s some kind of Imperial soldiers running around. Then we should retreat to the ship and let them know, in case they’re not aware of it already.”

“How do we get the word out? None of our communication doohickeys’re workin’,” Applejack complained.

“We’ll need to find a station vox. I believe those should still work,” Twilight announced. “So let’s-”

“Incoming!” Jerriha barked, picking up the sound of approaching armored footsteps. “Cover, now!”

Jerriha and Pinkie Pie bolted to the other end of the containers and Rainbow hopped up onto the roof. Twilight removed her force harmonizer and turned it into a shield, floating the barrier to block any shots into the alley. Applejack didn’t bother moving, confident in Twilight’s shield and her own armor, but Rarity slipped behind a series of pipes winding into the side of the adjacent shack.

The incoming enemies rushed into place at the other end of the buildings, pressing against the wall and then leaning in with a boltgun and flamer, respectively. Jerriha and the other mares could immediately see what Twilight had meant when she referred to the ornate nature of the armor. The suits were well-polished, with bright red tabards and engravings of wings and fleur de lis. Red wax disks sealed long strips of parchment to their armor, the script partially burnt and tattered from exposure to the elements. The armor suits were obviously powered, with backpack reactors and glimpses of cabling between the gaps in the plating, but the suits were much sleeker and thinner around the limbs than the armor they had seen before (including their own). They also had a pair of conspicuous bulges at the top of the chest plate that definitely corresponded with a female physiology.

The ponies had time to take all this in because, curiously, the two Imperial warriors did not open fire. They stopped and stared, saying nothing, and then turned toward each other as if to confirm that they were witnessing the same thing. They wore helmets, of course – with a white banding across the eyes and forehead and no vox grille – but their uncertainty was plain to see.

“Um, hi!” Twilight said as cheerfully as she could, deciding to take advantage of the surprising lack of violence. “Now, you’re probably thinking about whether or not you should attack the strange aliens you’ve found bearing wargear clearly marked with the faction symbols of your worst enemies! And the answer may surprise you!”

The armored women ducked back behind the buildings, not responding to Twilight’s greeting. Data-screed briefly ran over Twilight’s visor display, leaving behind a few key passages inloaded from her bionic eye.

Hostile ident-codex verified:
Adeptus Sororitas Battle Sister Benitt
Decrypting vox link
Complete. Exloading vox registry
Link established

“-and five others. They did not attack when we revealed our position, but the target sputtered something about why we shouldn’t kill it.”

“The target creature is an absolute priority. Alien or Chaos wretch, it is no matter. Flamer and frag weaponry is forbidden so long as you engage it.”

Twilight recoiled in surprise. A quivering oscilloscope graph appeared over her visor display while the conversation played over her helmet’s own vox link. A second readout offered to let Twilight link directly with her opponents, presumably for the purposes of speaking to them, but she declined to do so.

“… Twi? Are we gonna run, or…?” Rainbow asked, peeking over the edge of the roof she was on.

“Very well. And the other xeno filth?”

“Kill them. We shall deliver to the Inquisitor his prize, but the other blasphemers shall face the appropriate judgment for anyone bearing the marks of the Great Enemy. I’ve dispatched our reinforcements. Emperor be with you, Sisters, and may His fury guide your fire.”

“Glory to the holy God-Emperor. Victory to the Imperium of Man.”

“The target? I’m the target?” Twilight asked, dumbfounded.

She took an unsteady step backward, but got no further before the Sisters opened fire.

Boltgun and bolt pistol fired into the alley between the containers, smashing against Twilight’s shield. Rarity and Rainbow retaliated, plasma fire and shuriken slicing into the walls around the shooters but failing to connect.

“Fall back! We’ve got to get out of here!” Twilight shouted, retreating as she kept feeding power to the harmonizer’s barrier. “They’ve got more troops coming! We need to alert the fleet!”

Jerriha leaned out and then fired a photon grenade down the alley, landing it right between the two assailants. They recoiled at the intense burst of light and sound, their helmets’ autosenses briefly overwhelmed.

“Move! Move!” the Fireblade barked, already feeding another photon grenade into her launcher. Rarity raced by, followed by Applejack at a much slower pace. Twilight turned around to flee once they were already out, and Jerriha sprayed pulse fire over the alicorn’s head to cover her retreat.

“Cut behind that shack! Keep to cover and follow me!” Twilight shouted, galloping past Jerriha and Pinkie Pie. “They’re trying to take me alive, but that doesn’t apply to the rest of you!”

“What? Why’re they tryin’ to capture you?” Applejack asked.

“Hay if I know! We need to reach a communications cogitator!” the young Princess replied.

“Okay, but can you take control of this thing real quick?” Rainbow Dash asked, swooping down to fly over Twilight’s head.

Twilight looked up and blinked, uncomprehending. Rainbow had an object clamped between her front greaves. It was box-shaped, and a green lumen was on the side, blinking on and off. Her bionic quickly bracketed the object for identification.

Demolition charge: KCS-300 heavy pattern. Kartex base with neodrol catalyzer. Unit has been primed. Signum detonator detected.

“DASH!! THAT’S A BOMB!!” Twilight yelped, scrambling to speed up.

“Yeah, I know. Can you use your robot eye to fix it to explode when we want rather than when the bad guys want?” Rainbow asked, flying after her squad leader.

“NO!! Get rid of it!” Twilight shouted.

She actually didn’t know if she could access this particular detonator with her optical bionic, but Twilight understandably didn’t want to test it on a live explosive at close range when she was trying to run away. Rainbow Dash made a disappointing tsking noise, and then spun around in the air before kicking the charge away. The explosive struck the ground and bounced, eventually landing next to a series of rusted pipes.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Spire 1, primary spool
Deck 36-M

“It is a psyker, then?” the Inquisitor asked grimly.

“Well of courshe it ish. What interesht could you posshibly have in shome mundane alien with a negligible pshykant profile?” Solon scoffed. “You shaw a pretty drawing and decided to poke around shome rushted pirate den on the edge of the Shegmentum Tempeshtush at random to look for it? Ish that the nonshenshe I’m shupposhed to believe here? Obvioushly the clue had to come from a pshyker or a xeno to begin with.”

The hologram didn’t speak again, but the man visibly grimaced.

“I’m shtill quite perplexed ash to what you want it for, though. I sherioushly doubt you’re on a misshion to inveshtigate thish alien shpeciesh for extermination. Are you even Ordo Xenosh?”

“Traitor, I’m growing very weary of your deflections and probing,” the Inquisitor griped, looking at something off to the side. “More importantly, it seems I’ve gotten a better lead. You’ve been QUITE unhelpful in addition to being a betrayer to all of humanity, so I will now purge you from the God-Emperor’s realm.”

Kaelith made a Binaric squeal and the other Iron Warriors started searching surroundings, looking for possible bracing points if the structure collapsed beneath them.

The Inquisitor raised a hand in front of him. “When your blighted soul is delivered to your daemonic masters to be devoured, you may inform them that Inquisitor Gholth of the Ordo Malleus sent you.” He snapped his fingers.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Spire 1, primary spool
Deck 2-K

Four explosions suddenly ripped through the air around the main platform, blowing apart shacks and blasting craters into the deck plating.

The Battle Sisters following Twilight were knocked off their feet as the bomb Rainbow threw exploded in mid-air, bowling them over with the shock wave as soon as they rounded the corner. One was smashed into a shack’s wall and stunned, while the other was simply hurled back into the streets and skidded across the walkway plating.

On the other side of the detonation, Rainbow found herself thrown through the air as well, her senses briefly overwhelmed by the noise and force of the demolition charge. She spun around chaotically before her head slammed into a support girder for the upper decks, and a loud crack came from her visor from the impact.

The other ponies and Jerriha were also jarred from the detonation, although they had wisely sped up as soon as Twilight had shouted about a bomb. Applejack grabbed Jerriha with her tail just before the Fireblade lost her footing, yanking the bipedal soldier back upright. Pinkie, Twilight, and Rarity all stumbled from the shock wave, but found it easier to remain standing on four legs.

Twilight rushed ahead toward where Rainbow Dash had fallen, skidding to a stop over the pegasus and levitating her shield low to protect both of them from potential gunfire.

“I’m not going to take off my helmet right now but you should know that I am giving you such a look,” Twilight huffed.

Rainbow moaned. “The unicorn doc is gonna yell at me again…”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Spire 1, primary spool
Deck 36-M

The echo of the explosions faded, and Solon was quite gratified to detect little more than a brief tremor running through the floor. The hololith of Inquisitor Gholth was staring expectantly, but after a few seconds his expression soured.

Solon leaned forward. “Well, well, looksh like-”

The hololith switched off before the Warsmith had the chance to taunt him. The lumen indicator turned red, and the vox line was cut.

“Tch. I had shome good banter ready, too,” Solon complained while he turned away from the desk.

“Opprobrium: Doubtful,” Kaelith snipped while he scuttled toward the exit.

The doors to the lift were locked – remotely, of course, after they had entered the office – but Kaelith defeated the middling data wards with little more than a gesture. The lumens shifted from red to green, and the recently repaired doorway smoothly opened up.

“Analysis: Contemporary scans do not suggest ascender sabotage. Conclusive: Enemy agents thought the demolition charges sufficient to stop us.”

“Very shloppy of an Inquishitor to undereshtimate Iron Warriorsh,” Solon remarked as he and the Chaos Space Marines filled the lift.

“Concurrence: For the Inquisitor to spare us long enough to conduct a largely ineffective interview was a grievous error.” Kaelith’s optics pulsed, and the lift started to descend.

“There are many piecesh of thish puzzle shtill misshing,” Solon admitted. “We cannot evaluate-”

The lift shook suddenly, rattling loudly as something struck the exterior. Several somethings, in rapid succession.

“Analytic: The impact reverberation and burst volume is consistent with heavy bolter fire,” Kaelith spat. “They are trying to disable the ascender, but do not have optimal weaponry available.”

“Brace yourshelvesh,” Solon warned as his right arm unfolded into a short-barreled cannon and slowly cranked up to aim at the ceiling.

A single bright orange shot cut through the top of the lift, vaporizing the chain and pulley slowly lowering the ascender. It promptly started to fall, and the shriek of the wheels scraping against the side rails filled the shaft.

The lift hit the bottom deck hard, but the warriors within were hardly shaken by the impact. A pair of Iron Warriors immediately moved to the entrance, boltguns at the ready. The doors creaked open, straining badly from the damage sustained in the fall.

As soon as there was sufficient room, the mouth of a heavy flamer was jammed into the gap between doors.

The soldiers didn’t have time to shout a warning before the lift was filled with burning promethium, not that it would have made much difference. Flames filled the interior in an eye blink, and the soldiers and Techpriest within promptly began cooking in their armor. Kaelith immediately started venting a flame suppressant mist that washed against the burning promethium, dousing the blaze all around him and the Iron Warriors closest to him.

With a defiant shout, Solon slammed his front legs into the doors and ripped them open, immediately charging forward through the breach. He plowed over two armored bodies standing just outside the lift, throwing them off their feet and knocking them to the ground before he stopped. One leg lifted and then landed on an enemy, punching straight through metal, flesh, and bone with brutal force. Then Solon leaned sharply to the other side, reaching the second body and seizing it by the shoulder pauldron.

“Ah-ha! And sho we have our firsht prishoner!” he taunted, hauling the Sister of Battle up to eye level. Flames still clung to his chassis, licking at his armor, but it did little apparent damage to the daemonic machinery.

The Sister clung to her heavy flamer but serpent-like mechatendrils immediately set upon the weapon, disconnecting its fuel supply and breaking off its igniter torch to render the weapon useless. She lifted it and gripped the trigger, but nothing happened except a small, pitiful spurt of liquid promethium from the barrel that very slightly fed the flames burning over Solon’s chassis.

The Sister spat a curse in some obscure regional dialect Solon didn’t bother to identify, and then howled at him in low Gothic. “The Emperor shall see your ashes smeared across this fetid pit, traitor! Whether by my hands or my sisters, there will be no redemption for you scum!”

Solon didn’t reply right away, tilting his head to the side. “… Wait, what are you doing here?”

“Purging the Emperor’s galaxy of treasonous heretics!” she replied with earnest vigor, slightly insulted that he had asked.

“Yesh, fine, I get that, but you’re the wrong Chamber Militant. Your Inquishitor ish Ordo Malleush, which meansh-”

The Sister jammed her combat knife into Solon’s arm, piercing the thinner layering opposite the elbow. Then she kicked against Solon’s leg, managing to tear free of his grip and fall back onto the deck.

“Hey! I’m not done with-” a bolter round struck the side of his head, pitching it sharply to the side despite barely denting his helmet. Several more shots impacted his legs and torso, and a frustrated growl came from the Warsmith’s vox grille.

He turned toward the source, spotting a half squad of Battle Sisters covering across the spool deck with a perfect line of fire on the lift. Solon’s heavy bolters dropped into position under his chassis and opened fire, spraying a long trail of heavy bolts over the enemy’s barricade. The Sister next to him stood back up, finally discarding her heavy flamer entirely and drawing her sidearm.

A dozen lasers all struck her in the side at once, converging on a single point to slice through flesh and armor in the blink of an eye. Kaelith kept an auxiliary optic on the body while he spat a burst of fire suppressant onto Solon, watching as the soldier collapsed into neatly cut, smoldering pieces.

+Advisory: Withdraw toward the primary docking bay.+ Kaelith bleated to the Warsmith, curling behind Solon’s bulk to cover from the incoming boltgun fire.

“Negative. Chooshe a target and return fire!” Solon ordered before activating his arm cannon. A section of the barricade protecting the enemy squad was ripped out in a neat O-shaped hole, along with the Sororitas warrior sheltering behind it.

+Contra: Current strategic objectives are not served by engaging the enemy. Addendum: I am unable to reliably estimate strength of enemy presence.+

“Well there can’t be that many! Do you have any idea how hard it ish to hide a congregation of Battle Shishtersh?” Solon shouted right before his heavy bolters emptied the first ammo drum.

“Warsmith! Genn and Termon are badly wounded from the flames!” barked one of the other Iron Warriors. Three of them had taken up cover nearby, trading measured fire with the Sororitas across the deck. “They will not survive if left here!”

“Ugh. Shliver is going to yell at me if I let them die,” Solon groaned. His heavy bolters reloaded, and then started spewing fire across the enemy barricade again. “All right, you three withdraw to the docksh with the wounded!”

“Interrogative: Why are we not going with them? Analytic: We have no mission objective other than survival,” Kaelith demanded, switching to Gothic so that the lesser Astartes could understand.

“I determine our objectivesh, Magosh, and we have one more here on Ishrem!” His arm cannon fired again, blasting another large glowing hole in the enemy’s cover. The occasional bolt shell still crashed into his armor, but it was much reduced now, even with his guard detail mag-locking their weapons and securing the wounded.

“Interrogative: What could possibly be of sufficient import to risk being encircled and destroyed? Remonstration: We are still unable to contact the flagship for reinforcements,” Kaelith complained.

“You heard the Inquishitor ash well ash I did,” Solon huffed, a blast of toxic fumes erupting from his smokestacks, “they’re not here for ush. And I am NOT inclined to shurrender the Princessh to the Imperium, whatever their intentionsh. Now shtop whining and triangulate her poshition!”

A loud, obnoxious “blurk” sound came from the Dark Magos. “Tonal designation: Resigned. Tactical requirements: Neutralize local resistance and redeploy to cogitator banks at positional 2.009.331.802.”

“Confirmed. Iron Warriorsh, you have your ordersh!” Solon shouted.

“Iron within! Iron without!” the soldiers shouted, two of them hauling the injured Astartes while the third led them with his weapon drawn.

Solon switched off his guns and clambered across the primary spool, his bulk hammering huge dents into the deck plating. The two remaining Sisters immediately stood to meet the charge, training their bolters on the Chaos Lord and emptying the magazines into him on approach. Bolter shells pounded against the Warsmith’s heavy plating, chipping away shards of ceramite and filling the chassis bed with shrapnel.

When he reached the barricade Solon smashed it open, entering through one of the holes blasted in the plate. The two enemies immediately split to face him on opposite sides, drawing their chainswords, but Solon’s servo arm immediately snapped up one of the warriors and pulverized her. At the same time he turned to face the remaining Sororitas, looming over her.

“I have shome queshtionsh for you before your inevitable martyrdom, zealot,” the Warsmith declared, his optics pulsing with crimson light.

She promptly leapt onto Solon’s leg and shoved her chainsword into his helmet, the whirling teeth screeching against metal as they chewed into the vox grille. Solon hammered a fist onto the back of the chainsword, breaking the weapon’s blade off from haft. His mechatendrils latched onto the Sister before she could recoil, granting him precious seconds to seize her by the shoulder and haul her into the air.

“All right, before we begin let’sh just clear off thoshe backup weaponsh,” Solon explained, his serpentine mechatendrils biting onto the woman’s combat knife and grenades and tearing them free from her belt. “I want to know what your misshion here ish on Ishrem!”

“Our mission is to cleanse the very stars of scum like yourself,” the Sister spat, “to purge Imperial space of the cancer of Chaos, and redeem ourselves under the Emperor’s gaze with your blood!”

“That’sh not what I meant and you know it,” Solon snapped. “What ish your misshion here? Ish it-”

The Sister of Battle grabbed onto the combat blade still stuck in Solon’s inner elbow, wrenched it free, and then stabbed it into Solon’s optical array. The blade tip punched through the glassine lens and sliced deep into the machinery below, and about half of his visual outputs exploded into useless static.

“… All right, that’sh really my fault for leaving the knife in.”

With an enraged snarl, the Sister kicked into Solon’s abdomen with both feet. The impact barely marred the plating there, but it did manage to wrench her free of the Warsmith’s grip. She hit the ground and rolled into a crouch, barely avoiding a mechanical leg that tried to stomp her. Then she surged to her feet, once again drawing her bolter.

One of the mechatendrils spat a thin jet of melta gas after her, spearing the warrior through the torso. She stumbled, her boltgun slipping from numb fingers and tumbling onto the deck.

“The Emperor’s… enemies will… ALL burn,” the woman seethed, falling back to her knees.

“Contra:” Kaelith announced, crawling around Solon’s chassis and looming over the zealot, “we will remove the slaves of the null-Omnissiah, organism by organism, vessel by vessel, and planet by planet. Your convent shall join you in failure and your aspirations will be deleted.”

The woman doubtless tried to summon the strength for another reply, but the last of her strength left her and she slumped onto the deck.

Solon grunted as he pulled the combat knife out of his optical array. Sparks and colorful oozing fluids leaked from the shattered glassine, and it took a few seconds for him to deactivate the damaged uplinks. He tossed the knife aside, looked down at the dead Sister of Battle, and then twisted his head to look at Kaelith.

“You didn’t even help thish time,” Solon moped, moving along past the barricade.

“Analytic: Total enemy combat power was negligible compared to your own. Interference was judged to be unwarranted,” the Dark Magos explained, following him.

“She shtabbed me in the face!”

“Tonal designation: Amusement. Concurrence, Warsmith. She did.”

“We should really take shome of theshe zealotsh prishoner, but I shupposhe that can wait.” Solon reached the edge of the spool deck and leapt down, his legs landing on the lower deck with a noisy crash. “We musht find Shparkle and neutralize their jamming devicesh sho we can contact the ship.”

Kaelith slithered down the wall behind his Warsmith, his many legs and smaller manipulators scuttling across the near-vertical surface. “Analytic: If the standing hypothesis is correct and the Inquisition was laying a trap for the equine, it must be activated by now. Conclusive: Our chances of preventing capture are minimal and risk of destruction overwhelming. Proposition: Return to the flagship and recover the animal at a later time.”

“Your hypotheshish ish flawed, Magosh,” Solon slurred, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of his legs pounding against the deck plating.

Kaelith made a loud, unpleasant blurting sound. “Extrapolate.”

“Thish wash not a proper trap at all. The Inquishitor wash not prepared to meet ush. Hish only lead wash that shymbol,” Solon explained.

“Contra: It is unwise to rely on the Inquisitor’s professed motives and data,” the smaller cyborg retorted.

“Tell me, Magosh, why would a daemonhunter be sheeking an alien, ushing the chamber militant of the Ordosh Hereticush?”

“Speculatory: It is not uncommon for Inquisitors to work together. This may account for the overlap in resource deployment and apparent conflict in objective sorting.”

“I shushpect that any other Inquishitorsh on hand have their eye on Gholth himshelf, rather than hish prize,” Solon chuckled. “Thish ish a guessh, but I don’t think he came to Ishrem looking for an alien. He wash expecting a human witch.”

A crackle came from a vox caster above, warning of an imminent announcement. A few sparks blasted from the wiring, and the sound quality was abysmal, but the machine was in good enough shape that the Chaos pirates could easily make out the words.

BEHOLD THE EMPEROR’S GLORY!
WITNESS THE EMPEROR’S JUSTICE!
WITH BLESSED BLADE AND HOLY FLAME SHALL WE COMMENCE THIS PURGE IN THE NAME OF HE!
CITIZENS OF ISHREM – PIRATES, SMUGGLERS, SLAVERS, AND MOST WRETCHED HERETICS – YOU HAVE BEEN JUDGED!
GIVE THANKS, FOR THIS IS THE HOUR OF YOUR REDEMPTION!!

Mining nexus Ishrem
Interior deck 3-12
Tertiary spire

“… Oh, you CANNOT be karkin’ serious.”

Daniels stared at the sputtering vox caster in disbelief. He was hardly the only one. Several other soldiers, voidfarers, and brothel guards stood stock-still, gaping at the machine. None of them moved, unsure what to do. The situation just seemed perfectly surreal: standing in line in a house of ill repute only to be suddenly denounced en masse by some kind of zealous crusader over the station’s vox net.

“It’s got to be a prank, right?” one man asked, his voice nearly a whimper. “There’s no… no Imperial troops on Ishrem. There couldn’t be. How would they…?”

One of the brothel guards broke and ran, not uttering a word. Two clients immediately turned to follow him, rushing through the exit as fast as they could manage without crashing into something.

I OFFER MY LIFE TO THE EMPEROR. I PRAY THAT HE ACCEPTS IT.
I OFFER MY STRENGTH TO THE EMPEROR. I PRAY THAT HE REDRESSES IT.

“It’s not a prank,” Daniels said, his voice grim.

A dozen other men and women scrambled for the exit. The prayer continued, and the brothel burst into a frenzy of panicked activity as staff and clients alike sought to flee. Some of the parlor rooms burst open, with men and women struggling to get their clothes on while cursing and rushing for the exit.

Daniels looked down at his ticket forlornly, and then released a deep sigh. “I don’t suppose this place has a refund desk…”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Command deck, section 7-E

I OFFER MY BLOOD TO THE EMPEROR. I PRAY THAT IT QUENCHES HIS THIRST.
I OFFER MY BODY ON THE ALTAR OF THE BATTLEFIELD. I PRAY THAT HE GRANTS ME A NOBLE DEATH.
I PRAY FOR HIS PROTECTION, AS I OFFER ALL THAT I AM.

“Would anyone care to explain why there are prayers to the Emperor being broadcast all across this misbegotten rock?”

Inquisitor Gholth stepped through the door into the command center, one hand held behind his back and the other gripping a force rod capped with the Inquisition’s emblem. The man was aged, looking to be in his seventies at least, but had a casual strength and build that spoke of several rejuvenat treatments and subtle bionic enhancements. His right eye had been replaced by a decidedly unsubtle bionic device that took up that side of his skull, with thick cabling winding backward to vanish under his shock white hair. His beard was fairly short and pointed, with the Imperial Aquila and another of the Inquisition’s infamous emblems positioned on his chest plate on either side of it.

Across the room were two members of the Sororitas watching the Inquisitor enter. One, marked as a Palatine by her rank emblems, wore silvery power armor with lit candles affixed on one shoulder pad. She had no obvious bionics, and her pale face was drawn over with electoos of scripture and framed by raven black hair in a simple bowl cut. She stood up as the Inquisitor approached, but it was the other woman who spoke.

“Would you prefer a different hymn, Inquisitor? Perhaps something of lighter tone?” she asked. Her voice creaked slightly, carrying an undercurrent of sarcasm and a subtle warning.

“I would PREFER if all of Ishrem were not politely informed of our infiltration,” Gholth said tightly, stepping up to the table to face the women. “I did not give the order to deploy!”

“You are correct, Lord Inquisitor. I did,” the Palatine replied, her voice perfectly calm.

“So I had guessed,” the man hissed, glowering at them. “Annihilating the slums was bad enough, but we will be quite fortunate if the heretic flagship does not already know of our presence! I put a great deal of effort into these traps, Lady Arthwin. I merely ask you HOLD your righteous fury until they are spent. Are you capable of this? Or will I find my objective in the midst of a purifying pyre, reduced to smoldering bones?”

“You will get your prize, Inquisitor,” Palatine Arthwin replied, her voice precisely the same as before. “Whatever it is you want with some corrupt xeno monstrosity.”

Gholth’s expression tightened, and then he turned his gaze to the seated women next to Arthwin. “Sister Theamin, you said you found it? Show me.”

The seated Sororitas started tapping at the controls of the hololith projector on the table. “We received confirmation from a pair of Sisters covering the detonation of the spire. It matched what the merchant told us. Xenos. One of which bears your mysterious symbol, Inquisitor.”

“By the Emperor, it’s true. It’s all true,” Gholth breathed, running a hand through his hair.

“We know only that we found something that matches the strange… symbol your vile pet found,” Theamin warned, pressing at buttons with visibly growing frustration. “It is an alien witch bearing blasphemous armor that slew the merchant’s crew and travels with a small pack of its kind. Our Sisters are in pursuit.”

“I see. Where is this merchant? I have a few questions for him while we’re hunting the objective,” Gholth said.

“Purged,” replied Arthwin.

“What? Why?!”

“Heresy,” she said simply.

“Every resident on this station is heretic to one degree or another, Palatine!” Gholth retorted.

“Yes,” she agreed frostily.

“Oh! Here it is! Sorry, I’m just hopeless with these machines,” Theamin said, finally activating the correct data node.

The hololith flickered to life, slowly generating a three-dimensional image of Twilight Sparkle standing in front of Rarity and Applejack. The force harmonizer floated in front of her, a barrier covering the front facing. Gholth stared, struck silent by the image. His bionic eye pulsed, data surging through it.

“… Remarkable,” he breathed, walking around the hololith. “Wings… a single horn… and that body… it’s…” he tilted his head to the side. “Small,” he said decisively.

He could gauge the size due to the surrounding objects, and he was quite surprised to see that the alien was perhaps two-thirds as tall as he was. There was no mistaking the symbol, however; it was etched clearly and purposefully on two of the pauldrons shielding her shoulders and hips, as well as emblazoned on her chest. It wasn’t merely a near resemblance, and neither of the two other aliens bore the same symbol. His eyes studied their wargear, and then Gholth shifted his eye to study Rarity’s exposed head.

“Is that what they look like? They look almost like…” Gholth trailed off, scratching at his beard.

“That one’s blasphemous wargear seems to be incomplete,” Theamin noted, “and our sisters report that another of the foul xenos seems to bear no armor at all.”

“This power armor bears hallmarks of the Iron Warriors’ designs and profane modifications,” Gholth noted, his experienced eye picking out several details less obvious than the large Iron Skull on the shoulder. “But it’s less than half the size and bears no external power plant. Bizarre. They really constructed an entirely new type of power armor suit for these… creatures?”

“If the merchant is to be believed, then this wargear enabled them to overcome his guard complement with ease,” Theamin noted. “Not men of faith or great skill at war, in my estimation, but it would be foolish to underestimate these beasts.”

“I’ve no doubt they’re a serious threat. It would have been prudent to get more precise details regarding the fight with the merchant,” Gholth said, his eye narrowing at the Sisters.

Palatine Arthwin didn’t change her expression. “The accounts of cowards and heretics are worth little,” she reminded the Inquisitor.

“If only we could all rely on zeal and prayer to carry the Emperor’s will to fruition,” the Inquisitor said, his voice sharp. “Those of us with more delicate objectives must rely on evidence, Palatine. And all too often it is only cowards and heretics who have it.”

With a swipe of his hand, the pict-capture of Twilight vanished and was replaced with a three-dimensional station map. It was a crude thing with very low detail, but it was kept reasonably up-to-date with numerous markers bearing information about equipment breakdowns, sewage leaks, shielding failures, and other such problems that regularly plagued such a vast and poorly-maintained outpost. There were several points marked that represented areas held by the Adeptus Sororitas, mostly in the internal maintenance and staff sections.

Theamin reached across the table to point to one of the large columns that ran from deck to ceiling. “Here. The target was found and confronted amongst these… dwellings. They were surprised to find that the blasphemous xenos did not attack when confronted.”

“Fascinating,” Gholth mumbled, straightening up. “Perhaps these creatures can be convinced to stand down, or at least distracted for a critical moment. Did your soldiers successfully parley with them?”

“No. They were instructed to restrain their more indiscriminate weapons and slay the target’s compatriots,” Theamin explained.

Gholth spent a moment staring incredulously at the woman before he could muster a response. “WHY?!”

“They are heretics,” Arthwin pointed out helpfully.

“Heretics? They’re not even human!” the Inquisitor retorted angrily.

“One sin among many,” the Palatine replied, her voice a rumbling growl.

“By the Emperor, we’ve been handed every possible boon of fortune in this operation and it could yet be for NOTHING thanks to your senseless bloodlust!” Gholth complained, running a hand through his hair anxiously.

“Do you have orders, Inquisitor? Or shall I see to the capture of the objective?” Arthwin asked, a dangerous edge to her tone.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” Gholth took a deep breath, and then started setting markers on the hololith using the control console. “Position Purifier squads here, here, and here. Set the pursuing troops to drive the xenos this way, toward these old refinery complexes. They are NOT to kill any of the xenos until the target has been secured.” He looked up at the smoldering glares of the warriors across from him. “I realize it is not your way, but you are to practice discretion and temper your holy zeal until we have our prize. Too much hangs in the balance! If you have any Sisters in reserve, direct them to guard the secondary hangar. With an enemy fleet at the docks, it’s our only path out.”

“What of the traitors and human heretics?” Theamin asked.

“An irrelevance. Engage as necessary but do NOT lose sight of the objective. It is crucial that this blasphemous psyker be captured alive and unharmed,” Gholth pressed. “Is that clear?”

Arthwin nodded her head ever-so-slightly. “And how are we to capture this… fragile abomination, precisely?”

“You won’t.” Gholth raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

A yellow shimmer briefly warped the air behind Gholth, and then a Techpriest appeared. It was over seven feet tall with a very thin body wrapped tightly in a bloody red robe. A single baleful yellow eye glimmered from within the hood, locked onto the Inquisitor. Neither of the Battle Sisters were expecting the cyborg, but it got little more than a raised eyebrow from them.

“IGNITION CODEX RECOGNIZED. AWAITING COMMANDS,” the strange Techpriest said, its voice loud and resonant.

“This is 7229. She will be assisting this endeavor,” Gholth explained. “Ordinarily I would not expose her even to the faithful before her prey was already in sight… but I do not want your warriors gunning down an important servant of the Emperor in their fury to cleanse this facility. 7229 can be… startling when deployed.”

“Your prudence is well-reasoned,” Arthwin replied, staring up at the Techpriest evenly.

There was something unusually uncanny and repulsive about the Techpriest, and Arthwin felt her palm itching for the grip of her sword. She would probably hesitate to cut down a cyborg wearing crimson robes on the field of battle, but a less stalwart Sister would likely heed the impulse to banish such a creature without orders to the contrary. Arthwin nodded to the other Sister, and Theamin took up her vox link to give the warning.

“Now, then,” Gholth said, working at the hololith console, “here is your target, 7229. A xeno and a psyker, wearing blasphemous armor.”

The hololith shifted back to the pict-capture of Twilight Sparkle in an alley. The Techpriest’s optic glimmered. Gholth turned back around and stared up at the cyborg sternly.

“This target is to be captured ALIVE. Prioritus Absolute. Do what you must to subdue it, but the less it is harmed in the process, the better. I do NOT want excessive blood loss or cranial trauma confining it to the medicae sanctum once it is taken. Understood?”

“AFFIRMATIVE,” 7229 stated, “DESIGNATE SECONDARIES.”

“There are some Iron Warriors skulking about the station,” Gholth said bitterly, “avoid them if at all possible. Similarly, the target travels in a group of aliens boasting similar wargear. Avoid fighting them unless it advances the success of your primary mission. I will leave the calculations of such tactical avenues to you.”

“AFFIRMATIVE. OBJECTIVES LOGGED. DEPLOYMENT STATUS: ACTIVE.” The Techpriest’s body seemed to shift and contort, and then suddenly it was gone.

The Sisters of Battle stared silently as Gholth plugged a small silver rod into the input node of the hololith table. The hololith began to break apart as the data within was extracted and the table’s internal data stacks irretrievably destroyed. After a few seconds the lumens on the console went dim as the machine spirit itself was erased, and the projector was rendered completely inoperable.

“I must prepare the shuttles for departure. It will be a treacherous journey, to say the least.” Gholth turned around and started walking to the exit. “You have your orders, Palatine.” He suddenly stopped. “One of those orders, by the way, is that you are forbidden from slaying Executor Gaines.”

Arthwin’s expression had been like stone, but at this command she scowled. “Why do we need that scum’s heart still beating? He has been completely useless thus far. He has evaded the Emperor’s justice long enough!”

Gholth groaned, affixing the warrior with a scowl. “We do not have time for me to recount all the contingencies and bargains I have established in our operation here, Palatine Arthwin. I am ordering you, in my formal capacity as an Inquisitor, to specifically refrain from killing only TWO creatures on this station! Can you curb your righteous wrath well enough to comply?”

“As you wish, Inquisitor,” Arthwin said, her displeasure evident in her tone.

Gholth grimaced and rushed out of the command center. Theamin stood up slowly, heaving a tired sigh. She turned to an exit door on the opposite side of the room and Arthwin moved to follow, her face still fixed in a disapproving scowl.

“What are your orders, Palatine?” Theamin asked. “Shall we follow the Inquisitor’s deployments? And what of the reserves?”

“Keeping the Purifiers as mere wards to herd the enemy is not an appropriate use of their valor. If the Inquisitor won’t cleanse the Chaos scum in Ishrem, then we will. Set them to hunt the traitors. Our remaining Sisters not pursuing particular targets may begin purging the residents. The Inquisitor can see to the security of our shuttles.” Arthwin scowled. “My orders for the pursuit of the xenos has not changed. The target is to survive. The others must die.”

“Understood, Palatine,” Theamin said.

“We’ve spent too long in this wretched nest of lawlessness and heresy, skulking in the shadows to fulfill the Inquisitor’s ludicrous hunch,” Arthwin spat. “That man is already reaching deep into the forbidden! Do you believe any of this will come to aid the Imperium? Do you think this blasphemous creature is worthy of being left alive?”

Theamin hummed briefly, and then replied. “This Inquisitor is a curious lot, and his methods are suspect. He is also, of course, a psyker himself, which may color his strategy and darken his soul. But he is still an Inquisitor, and I do not presume to know his quarry better than he. Those who would think to study and hunt the abominations that torment the Imperium rarely have the luxury of purity.” She pressed her palms together and bowed her head as she walked. “I put my faith in the Emperor’s light, not treacherous aliens and cryptic rantings, but Inquisitor Gholth is also part of the Emperor’s host standing against the madness of this blighted galaxy.”

Arthwin slowly nodded her agreement, her irritation visibly calming. “Of course. The Inquisitor’s plots may vex me, but this is hardly the most difficult test of faith we have endured.” She paused. “To that end, I should take Gholth’s strategy more seriously. Contact those Sisters in pursuit of the xeno witch and inform them that it is not necessary to slay the other aliens immediately. They need only drive them into ambush. Less risk that way.”

“Of course, Palatine. And once the target is taken?”

“After the witch has been extracted then they are all to be slain, Sister Dogmata. The Inquisitor has marked but two souls free from the Emperor’s justice. Let no others survive who would deny Him.”

“It will be done, Palatine. Glory to Emperor, and Imperium.”

Author's Note

Had some difficulty with the Warhammer common lore here, as I was apparently under a lot of misconceptions about how widely spread the knowledge of daemons was through the ranks of the soldiers most likely to face them. Suffice to say this wasn't exactly a mission for Grey Knights.
Have a Wind Chime, by Reterica!

Battle of Ishrem

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 15
Battle of Ishrem

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Deck 3-9

“So you’re really not going to carry a box? Not even the little one?”

“Not even the little one.”

“They’re just eggs, Miss Whyd. No need to get your knickers in a twist.”

“They’re just eggs until they hatch. Then they’re hypnotic, man-eating parasites.”

“Parasites have to eat too, you know! And I told you these aren’t going to hatch soon!”

“Blossom, dear, I don’t think you’re helping.”

The mares of Phage Squadron trotted through the exit to the main cavern deck one by one, each one carrying a metal box tied to their backs with twine. Each of the boxes had been crudely ventilated with a blade to feature thin, irregular slits that allowed air flow. Rot Blossom carried two crates, one of which was emitting frequent, irritated buzzing noises that made Erin’s skin crawl.

“Hold up, I should replace the lock,” Erin said, stopping to pick up the device she had disabled earlier.

“Why? Aren’t we carrying the quarantine on our backs, now?” Breezy asked.

“POSSIBLY, yes. There might be nothing else dangerous in there,” Erin admitted, “but it’s good practice nonetheless. People might panic when the see the seal broken, or some kid might wander in there and get stuck behind an inoperable door.” She grunted as she fit the lock in place over the entrance.

“That’s well cautious of you, considering you’re the one who busted in to begin with,” Kiss said.

“Yeah, and don’t I regret it,” she sighed, twisting the main lever. “Let’s just get back to the ship and lock these little monsters up.”

“You’re coming back with us? Didn’t you want to stay here?” Breezy asked, surprised.

“I was considering it. Not exactly enchanted with this place, though. And it’s no comfort to know that the walls and locked rooms may have mysterious xenos scuttling around in them.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I haven’t made a decision yet.”

A vox caster wired to the corner of a building suddenly crackled to life. “IN HIS NAME DO WE STRIKE DOWN THE FAITHLESS AND BANISH THE UNCLEAN!! FOR THE IMPERIUM OF MAN, FOR BLESSED HUMANITY, AND FOR THE DIVINE GOD-EMPEROR, THE FALLEN WILL BE CLEANSED!!”

The vox caster released a high-pitched whine at the end of the exhortation, and then blew out in a spray of sparks.

“… Well that was a smidge… off,” Poison Kiss mumbled.

“I have made a decision about whether to stay here or on the ship,” Erin announced, sounding fairly unhappy about it.

“Are you coming back with us? I’ll bet you’re coming back,” Breezy said.

“Stop yapping and leg it!” Kiss ordered, turning sharply in the direction of the docks.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Deck 8-A

“What’s going on? Is that gunfire?”

“Are the enforcers putting down a miner strike?”

“If they’re the ones that put on that karkin’ propaganda bilge, then good riddance!”

“What the frag is that chanting? Who hijacked the vox net?”

“I know there’s a lot of other pressing matters right now but does anybody know why there’s a pink horse riding some kind of heavy armor beast across the deck?”

Twilight Sparkle galloped ahead of the other Equinoughts, glancing back and forth at the confused residents of the void station. The distant bark of boltgun fire echoed through the cavernous interior, but it was nearly drowned out by the sound of numerous armored boots racing against the deck . Rainbow Dash was running rather than flying (at Twilight’s suggestion, given her newest head injury), and Pinkie Pie was standing on Applejack’s back again.

“Hey! Coming through everybody! Make way!” Rainbow shouted, her vox amplifying her voice considerably. “We’ve got Imperial baddies on board! Get inside and hunker down!”

“Imperials?! They’re back? How?!” shouted a random woman, trying very hard to remain serious while questioning a small armored horse.

“Dunno! Maybe they live here now? This place is HUUUUUGE!” Pinkie replied while the Equinoughts passed by.

“More seriously,” interjected Jerriha as she followed the squad, slowing to address the civilian, “this looks like an infiltration to me. A decent-sized shuttle could probably land on this base without tripping a single alert. You should really get some better security around here.” She sped up to follow the others, leaving the bewildered humans behind.

Rarity glanced back at her. “Did you really have time to evaluate the station’s whole security network? We’ve only been here a few hours!”

“And in those few hours I killed several residents, witnessed a bombing, and was attacked by a completely different outsider faction without hearing so much as a general alarm,” the Fireblade retorted. “Your little rural village was more alert than this!”

“There! That post should work!” Twilight announced, interrupting the discussion.

A thick metal post wrapped up in cabling and crowned with bent antennae rods and vox casters stood next to a dilapidated shack. The cables ran down into the rusted vent next to it and seemed intact enough, but the control panel bolted onto the side of the device was clearly broken. The screen had been shattered, several buttons were missing entirely, and the entire interface slab was bent to one side like someone had tried to pry it off but eventually given up. Nothing indicated what the vox relay tower was for or suggested its broad importance to the station; Twilight’s only reassurance that it was in fact the machine she wanted came from her helmet visor, which captured the entire construct in a green bracket and identified it.

Below the panel, clamped onto one side of the post, was a bulbous metal object a bit smaller than a pony’s head. It stood out somewhat, but only because the metal shell was a great deal cleaner than its surroundings. There were no lumens or wires visible on the exposed face, or any kind of decal or engraving as many parts had. It wasn’t obvious at all that it was a foreign device until Twilight’s optical augment zoomed in on it and flashing yellow icons started appearing on her visor.

“VENERATE THE HOLY EMPEROR! IN SERVICE THERE IS TRUTH! IN MARTYRDOM THERE IS REDEMPTION!”

The tower was also screaming a bizarre prayer all around it, although the damaged casters struggled to reach the volume that such lofty pronouncements demanded. Every few seconds one or more of them would suddenly turn to sputtering static, cutting through the chants and dramatically dropping the volume. In any case, the residents clearly thought it was a much lesser problem than the gunfire, at least until a squad of well-armed aliens stopped in front of it.

“There! That piece on the side! That’s the source of the interference!” Twilight announced, slowing her approach.

“Great! Can you shut it off?” Rainbow Dash asked.

Twilight’s eye narrowed. The datascreed scrolling over much of her visor display challenged even her lofty reading ability, but she managed to pick out a few key words while symbols and runes flashed around the targeting brackets. “Its machine spirit seems pretty hardened. I don’t think this thing was even made to be turned off. Maybe I can still break the-”

“We ain’t got time fer that!” Applejack barked, depositing Pinkie Pie next to Twilight and marching past her. “Those Imperial varmints are shootin’ up the place and the Iron Warriors don’t even know they’re here!”

“Uh, well, yes, but be careful!” Twilight insisted. “If that machine isn’t made to be turned off and recovered, then it-”

Applejack raised a boot and slammed it onto the metal bulb while Twilight was talking, interrupting her with the sound of creaking metal and internal components popping. Then it exploded, swallowing Applejack in a burst of fire and shrapnel while it tore the rest of the vox relay apart. The residents watching all flinched away from the detonation, some outright fleeing the area or rushing indoors to wait out this violent disturbance.

“… It… It might be booby-trapped,” Twilight mumbled.

“Good call!” Pinkie said approvingly. “Just talk faster next time.”

The other ponies were still gaping in shock when the dust started to clear. Applejack was standing in the same spot, the explosion having failed to so much as budge her. The entire front facing of her armor was scorched black, with long ashen streaks burned over the finish of her shoulder pads.

“Yeah. Okay. That was kinda rash o’ me,” Applejack admitted, hanging her head as she dropped her boot back to the deck. “Sorry.”

“Why isn’t your hat damaged?” Jerriha asked.

“Never mind that! We’ve gotta find another tower now!” Rainbow groaned. “I still can’t connect with the ship, so there must be more of these jammer things around!”

“Can’t we just make a break for the ship?” Rarity asked. “The enemy probably can’t stop us, especially if they’re being careful not to hurt Twilight.”

“I would NOT put any faith into the restraint of Imperial soldiers when estimating whether you may survive an engagement,” Jerriha replied, “especially the loud preachy ones.”

“Besides, we need to get the word out HERE, too! These people don’t know what’s going on and they have nowhere to go!” Twilight grimaced, and then rounded on the nearest human. “Excuse me! I’m not sure what means you have to do so, but you have to round up as many people as you can and retreat to the primary docking bays!”

The young man recoiled in surprise. “I… I don’t know. Why should I listen to some kind of… Chaos alien?”

“This isn’t about aliens and humans! Imperial agents are here and they’re killing everyone! You have to run!” Twilight elaborated.

“If those are Imperials shooting up the place, wouldn’t they be here for you, anyway?” he retorted. “The Executor would have warned us if the station was being purged.”

The other ponies started grumbling amongst themselves behind her. Twilight stared at the recalcitrant man in frustration, and then she took a deep breath.

“Can you evacuate as many people as possible to the docking bays… PLEASE?” she asked.

The resident perked slightly, obviously surprised. “Well… okay, fine. If it’s that important,” he agreed reluctantly, turning away to fulfill the request.

“Thank you! If you see any giant armored men with spikes, tell them I sent you and also that there’s an Imperial invasion! Please!” Twilight turned away and galloped off, not waiting for any further questions or rebuttals.

“I was kind of expecting you to snap and threaten him back there,” Dash admitted once they were running through the streets again.

“That was plan C. You meet enough humans and you start to get a sense for which ones might respond to earnest pleading and who needs a weapon pointed at them,” Twilight admitted, sounding quite tired. “I’m just glad he didn’t want to argue about it more, because if I’m being perfectly honest he was making some decent points and there are lots of good reasons not to seek refuge in a Chaos flagship.”

“Leave the perfect honesty to Applejack, darling,” Rarity advised her. “Do we have a new target?”

“The next closest jamming field seems to be originating from the facilities built into the asteroid wall,” Twilight explained, watching the indicator runes blink across her visor display. “Let me take point on this one, okay?”

“Because the soldiers might not shoot you on sight?” Pinkie asked.

“Because I don’t want anyone smashing the next important machine before I get a chance to look it over,” the you Princess clarified.

“Ah said Ah was sorry!”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Primary dock access

“What in… where did all these people come from? What’s going on here?”

Mantis stepped out of the sub-level access with the pony guards on one side and the (surviving) human guards on the other, looking bewildered. A very large crowd of people were gathered in front of the main docks, some of them injured and others barricading the area like they were expecting an attack. The docks themselves were closed, with enormous blast shutters covering the cavernous hall that linked them to Ishrem’s main interior. Several people were beating and prying at the shutters uselessly with pipes and scrap metal, but most of the crowd was huddling nervously. There were a few humans laying on bloodied rags spread on the deck, being tended to by an old man in an overcoat. At the far end of the shutters, two men with heavy tool bandoleers argued over an inactive cogitator.

Most of the group looked like they were mercenaries or menials belonging to the fleet, easily marked out by their Chaos Star amulets. Most of them didn’t have weapons, however, which meant the hundreds-strong crowd would struggle to hold a defensive if such a thing became necessary. With access to the ship blocked by an armored wall and gunfire roaring from the residences, it certainly seemed like it would be necessary.

Mantis looked over the scene with growing unease, and then looked up at the humans following him. “Do you know why the main docks are shuttered?”

“N-No, Sir,” the guard said, stiffening immediately.

“Please brother, be at ease,” Mantis said patiently. “My name is Mantis. You need not refer to me as ‘Sir.’ It’s awkward hearing it come from way up there.”

“Right. Uh… so, Mantis, these shutters are used when there’s an attack, or if the atmospheric shielding in the hangar isn’t working right,” he explained nervously.

“Which is it now?” the cult Hierophant asked.

“Well, we ARE under attack, but it’s not the kind that would warrant closing the shutters, probably,” the man admitted. “I suppose the field may be on the fritz but the timing is awfully bad.”

“Indeed it is. I think-” Mantis halted and his ears twitched and pivoted. He heard the sound of heavy armored boots approaching from the streets and shacks of Ishrem, their sound distinct from the thunder of gunfire echoing through the cavern. He raised a cloven hoof, gesturing to his entourage, and then glanced meaningfully toward Lightning Dust.

The pegasus launched into the air to get a better view. “… I see ‘em. Iron Warriors. Five of them. They look hurt.”

“Stand down! Friendlies incoming!” Mantis barked, striding out in front of the men setting up a barricade.

The men seemed slightly put out being ordered directly by a pony, but were more than happy to comply when several huge men in power armor rounded the corner. Two of them were hauling an unconscious Astartes between them, while a third was assisting another who struggled to walk on his own and whose power armor seemed to be shut down. All of them were burned to some degree, the usual bare metal coloring of their armor scorched black across the legs and torso.

The Iron Warriors slowed as they looked up at the blast shutters, and one of them stopped to check his vox system. After confirming it was still useless, he spat a curse and continued forward, dragging the wounded toward the mob. The humans quickly shifted to make a path for them, although it wasn’t clear where the Astartes would go.

“Why is that hangar closed off? Open the barrier!” barked the Iron Warrior at the front, his free hand taking up his boltgun.

“We’ve been trying! The blasted thing is in override!” complained a man next to the cogitator. “The atmospheric shielding must be down!”

The Iron Warrior lifted his bolter toward the speaker, a snarl forming on his tongue. The man at the cogitator went pale, his blood nearly freezing in his veins.

“My Lord, you have casualties,” Mantis observed, trotting up in front of the Astartes. “Who is the enemy?”

The Iron Warrior hesitated, staring down at the mutant equine. “… It is the Sororitas. The Inquisition is here.” He lowered his weapon as the impulse to slay the mortal for making excuses passed. “You’re a witch, are you not? You can reach the flagship regardless of the vox conditions.”

“Aye, my Lord. I will begin at once. The wounded can rest over there, near the-” Mantis was interrupted by a scream and the sound of more boltgun fire, this time from a shack just across the deck from the barricade. Even more residents were fleeing to the docks now, many of them stumbling to a halt in the open when they notices the closed shutters and the gun line.

“Contacts! There they are!” shouted a soldier bracing his autogun atop a crate he was using as cover. A pair of power-armored women dashed into the open street before dropping down next to a short wall. “Fire! Fire! Shoot everything you’ve got!”

“TRAITORS, HERETICS, AND SCUM THAT BLIGHTS THE EMPEROR’S STARS!!” suddenly boomed the vox caster above the control console. Several people started to scatter and run at the outburst, but most could think of no place they might escape to. “REJOICE!! THE END OF YOUR TORMENTED EXISTENCE IS AT HAND!! TODAY THE EMPEROR’S LIGHT SHALL-”

The vox caster blew apart as a single bolt shell punched into it. The Iron Warriors quickly kneeled down before the barricades, with one of the severely wounded Astartes pulling himself up against it to brace himself for firing.

“Hold the line, fools! Your executioners approach! Iron within! Iron without!” brayed the Astartes before the roar of boltguns drowned out the screams of the mob.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Deck 9-D (maintenance level)

“Take a left here! Near the stairwell!” Twilight shouted. “Behind that is the room we’re looking for!”

“What’s the status on the enemy?” Jerriha shouted back.

Twilight blink-clicked on a cutout on her visor display, opening up a short-range augur. “They are several power armor signatures down the hall! … In the room we’re looking for,” she replied, her tone darkening considerably. “Drat. I don’t see how we can get in there without a fight.”

“Then let’s git’r done!” Applejack huffed as Twilight slowed to a stop. “Ah’ll take the lead and cook ‘em!”

“Don’t we need the room mostly intact and not on fire?” Rarity asked, holding a corner at the rear of the group. “You’re going to break another of the machines, dear.”

Applejack flushed within her helmet. “All right, well what’s the plan, then? Twilight gonna handle it since they can’t shoot ‘er?”

“Once again, they very much CAN shoot her. It may or may not be inadvisable given their mission objectives, but generally they’re not shy about attacking a hostile breaching a room,” Jerriha clarified.

While Twilight perused her data scans, Pinkie Pie suddenly tapped Rarity’s shoulder pad. “Hey, what’s this door over here?”

Opposite the stairwell entrance, immediately to the side of the Equinoughts, was an unmarked, armored door with reinforced hinges. It possessed a large wheel as an opening mechanism with two sealed bar locks above and below it, and it blended in well with the bulkhead; none of the others had noticed it. After observing it, however, none of the others thought it was remarkable, either.

“Looks just like all the others around here, doesn’t it?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Mostly. No access cogitator, though, and it’s locked tight.” Jerriha shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

Pinkie Pie walked up to the door, her eyes narrowed. She sniffed at it curiously and placed a hoof against its gently curved surface. Then she looked back at Applejack.

“Can you force open these locks?”

“Pinkie, what’s the problem? We passed by dozens of doors on the way here. Why are you so interested in this one?” Rainbow asked.

“Pinkie Sense,” she replied ominously.

She now had the rest of the mares’ attention, which did not escape the notice of Jerriha. “What is a ‘Pinkie sense?’ Do you have some sort of bionic sensor?”

“Kind of, yeah!” Pinkie replied with a giggle.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Twilight retorted blithely. “Pinkie, are you sure this isn’t the kind of inexplicable warning about imminent danger?”

“Pretty sure!” she chirped happily.

“We’re actually doing this, then? We’re taking a detour with the enemy on our heels because the crazy pink one is having premonitions?” Jerriha asked.

“Nopony asked ya to come along,” Applejack grumbled as Twilight stepped by her.

The force harmonizer detached from Twilight’s back and engaged its energy blade. At the same time, Rarity levitated her power sword and activated it. With a silent nod, the blades sliced into the locks above and below the access wheel. Sparks blasted from the contact, and a sharp hiss filled the air as their weapons destroyed the armored exterior.

Jerriha heaved a sigh and gripped the access wheel. “I still can’t imagine what you expect to find in here, but…” she leaned in and turned the wheel, the metal groaning under the force. A clunking noise came from the door, and then it cracked open very slightly.

“And sure enough, here you are. Returned to tie up your loose ends,” came a voice from the other side of the door.

The Equinoughts froze in surprise. Jerriha stopped and took up her pulse carbine in one hand, just in case. Otherwise she remained silent, listening carefully.

“It wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough. The people here are nothing more than vermin to you. It was barely enough to stay your hand when you thought we had the key to this mysterious emblem! But now?”

Twilight frowned under her helmet, and then gestured to Jerriha. The Tau Fireblade shrugged and started pulling the door open wider. Twilight nodded to Applejack and nudged her head toward the doorway, and the heavily armored mare trotted by to head in first.

“This is how it’s always been with the Imperium. Your promises hollow, your bloodlust insatiable, your Emperor…”

The monologue stumbled to a stop as Applejack walked through the opening. She stopped and took a moment to look over the dimly-lit room. It was almost barren, with some extremely uncomfortable-looking furniture scattered about the interior; several metal chairs were positioned in front of a large desk, and on the other end of the room was an atrocious-looking bed that seemed to be a metal slab with some blankets on it. Next to the bed were a few cabinets, presumably for holding a change of clothes, and also made of metal. Seated behind the desk was an elderly man in clean-looking blue robes with a small augmetic construct on the side of his head. He frowned at the strange creature that had walked into the room, staring directly into the two bright red slits glaring at him from under the wide-brimmed cowboy hat.

“… Well, that was embarrassing,” he grumbled, leaning back in his chair. “I figured the footsteps from the hall sounded lighter than that of Space Marines so that meant I had Imperial agents bearing down on me. A poor guess.” He coughed into a fist as more of the ponies started filing into the room. “I had prepared remarks for the possibility of Imperial or Chaos troops breaking in, but I’m not sure what you all are.”

“We’re with Chaos, but we’re kind of laid back about it,” Rainbow Dash announced, walking past Applejack and then hopping up onto a chair. “You can give us the Chaos speech if you want, but I don’t know if it’ll make sense.”

“Are you here to execute me?” the man asked.

“We don’t right know who ya are, sugarcube. So I’mma say no,” Applejack admitted.

“Then the Chaos monologue won’t work either, no. Who are you?”

By this time everyone had entered the room and Jerriha started pushing the door closed. Twilight stepped forward and unlocked her helmet, the seals popping open with a brief hissing noise. Then she took off her headgear so that she could look the man in the eyes directly.

“Executor Nathaniel Gaines, I presume,” Twilight said. “I remember seeing your portrait in the profile attached to this station’s noosphere register.”

“Correct, little one. And you must be the… THING that the Inquisitor is after,” Gaines grunted, his eyes lingering on the starburst symbol on Twilight’s armor. “How unseemly that he was correct.”

“Executor? So that means you’re the one in charge around here?” Jerriha demanded.

Gaines looked up at her with a sneer. “You find me locked up in this closet while Imperial dogs run rampant across my station murdering my people and chasing ghosts. Does it LOOK like I’m in charge to you?”

“Fair, but what was that ya were sayin’ about an Inquisitor?” Applejack asked. “What’re they after Twilight fer?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. They didn’t even tell us what you were or that you were a living creature. It was an extremely odd demand, but I was in no position to refuse,” Gaines grunted. “He spent hours grilling me and my men about that symbol on your armor – the strange compass, specifically – but none of us had ever seen such a thing. Luckily he seemed to believe us; why would any of us seek to keep such a meaningless secret from an Inquisitor, especially under a battlecruiser’s guns?” He scratched at his balding head and sighed. “The Inquisitor was quite insistent that ‘it’ was here, or would be here soon enough, and garrisoned this place while he rummaged through our records. And now… here you are.” He straightened. “So out with it, then: who and what are you, that you’ve caught the Inquisition’s eye?”

“My name is Twilight Sparkle, a pony from a far-off world,” Twilight explained evenly. “I have no idea what the Inquisition would want with me, other than maybe revenge.”

“Every soul on Ishrem has committed some infraction against the God-Emperor’s Imperium, and obviously the Astartes of Chaos more than most,” Gaines said, resting his cheek on his fist. “What would yours be, to stand out from every other marauder to wear those Legion colors?”

“Well… I did sabotage a cruiser once. Would that do it?” Twilight asked hesitantly. “I also helped blow up a different cruiser in the last system, but I don’t think they’d know about that. Also it was already infested, so I think-”

“This isn’t really the time to swap war stories!” Jerriha interrupted. “No, we don’t know why the Imperium’s hunters seem to be after this one specifically, or why they’re going about it in such a bizarre way. If you have no insights either, what CAN you do for us?”

Gaines raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re the ones who have brought the Imperium’s wrath upon my home. You have an entire army bottled up in the docks, equal in power and ferocity to anything the Inquisitor brought here. And during this dire hour you break into locked closets at random, interrogate those trapped within, and beg ME for aid?”

“Okay, first of all: it was NOT random,” Pinkie said firmly, her tail twitching.

“And I wouldn’t characterize my request as ‘begging.’ We’re on the same side, right?” Jerriha added, sounding a bit defensive.

A loud clanking noise came from the hall outside, and the conversation in the room stilled. The sound of power-armored footsteps were familiar to everyone here, and with a grimace they prepared for enemy contact. Jerriha put a finger to the mouth of her helmet, readying her pulse carbine. Rarity’s horn pulsed gently, threads of magic surrounding her sword’s grip.

Twilight simply tapped the side of her optical augmetic. The system picked out the signature and identified it immediately, and the young Princess brightened. “Girls, stand down! Gaela’s here!”

“Gaela? Is that good?” Gaines asked.

“Yes!” Twilight chirped.

“No,” Jerriha said sourly at the same time.

The door cracked open with the squealing of the shattered locks, and then Gaela entered. Spike was on her back, hanging onto a servo arm that had its drill aimed at the Executor. He waved excited to the ponies but Gaela walked straight forward, ignoring them.

“And here come the marauders,” Gaines grunted, launching into his other prepared monologue. “It seems your enemies have found you, scion of Cha-”

Gaela’s power axe chopped down into the table, and it buckled in two. Gaines flinched, and then his head slowly craned upward as Gaela stomped over the broken furniture to stand over him.

“Die,” Gaela said simply, raising her axe again.

“Gaela, please don’t,” Twilight said, her voice a bit dry. “I don’t think killing him is going to help our predicament.”

To Gaines’ considerable surprise, the axe remained in the air, hovering over him. “The Executor has betrayed us. He’s led us into the jaws of the Imperium’s Inquisition, we cannot contact the flagship, and I do not know the whereabouts of the Warsmith. A swift death is better than he deserves,” Gaela insisted coldly.

“I-” Gaines barely managed to utter a single word before Gaela’s free hand swatted him over the head, almost pitching him from his seat.

“Be SILENT, Executor. Your immediate fate depends on Sparkle’s judgment and persuasion. Interrupt again and she will not save you,” the Dark Techpriest said, the green lights of her optics glaring from within her hood.

“No pressure!” Pinkie said brightly.

Twilight’s eye twitched, but she took a calming breath and looked up at Gaela. “He may know something else that’s useful. Besides, I don’t think we have time to argue about his culpability here. What is the situation outside like right now?”

“The Adeptus Sororitas is conducting a general purge of the station. Troops are spreading throughout the residence cavern and they seem to be slaying everyone they find,” Gaela explained, her axe still held over Gaines’ head and occasionally crackling from its molecular disruption field. “Curiously, they chased us to the entrance after I picked up your ident-signum but seemed to regroup rather than pursuing.”

“Sounds like they’re trying to cut off our exits,” Jerriha said. “I don’t know what their plan is after that, though. I’m not familiar with non-lethal Imperial tactics.”

Gaela tilted her head slightly. “Non-lethal? Why would they restrain themselves in destroying us?”

“Seems they ain’t here to fight us, they’re here fer Twilight,” Applejack answered.

“What?! Why?” Spike yelped.

“Hay if we know,” Rainbow Dash responded, “but we’ve gotta find a way back to the ship and we can’t contact anyone!”

Gaela turned her head to face Executor Gaines once more. “So then… you did NOT allow a garrison of troops here for the purposes of ambushing and slaying the Iron Warriors?”

“I did not,” Gaines said gruffly. “I didn’t know the 38th Company would be making port soon, and I did not advise the Imperial forces of your fleet. The Inquisitor hasn’t spoken to me in several hours now, but in our last conversation he seemed quite alarmed at the prospect of such a large Chaos force making port. I can assure you, I had no idea what prize he was searching for in Ishrem, and I’m quite surprised that he found it.”

Gaela finally drew back her axe and turned to face Twilight. “I understand. I still advise shooting him on the way out. What is our exfiltration plan?”

“Gaela!” Twilight shouted in exasperation. “We are not shooting the helpless leader of the station, all right? Enough people are dying already for no good reason!”

“As for departing this section of the station, we only came here to disable the jammer and use the vox net to warn the station of the purge,” Jerriha noted. “Are we not doing that anymore?”

“The jamming stations are trapped and the network’s nodes have impressive redundancy,” Gaines interjected. “I’ve already had a few of those devices ‘disabled’ by some local scavengers, to no avail. They’re probably using the one in section C as a lure for you.”

“That explains why they have soldiers all around here but they haven’t advanced,” Rarity huffed.

“Does it? How do they figger they’re gonna get Twi if’n they don’t attack?” Applejack asked.

“A very good question, and we should find a way out before we learn the answer,” Jerriha pointed out. “Is there some sort of path out of this section that isn’t guarded?”

“There is, but the door has been sealed and the area depressurized to frustrate any of the Inquisitor’s servants poking around down there,” Gaines admitted.

“Depressurized means there’s no air, right? No problem for us!” Rainbow boasted, jumping up and hovering while clapping her front greaves together. “Our armor suits have an air supply!”

“Uh, okay, but what about those of us who don’t have armor?” Spike asked, glancing at Pinkie Pie. “Or have armor but no helmet?” he continued, pointing at Rarity.

“Or don’t have a pressurized armor suit,” Jerriha volunteered. “Tau combat armor is a miracle of materials engineering, but it’s made to block weapons fire and not much else.”

“Geez, really?” Rainbow chuckled. “Isn’t fancy technology your guys’ whole thing? But it can’t even protect you from space? Embarrassing!”

“Dash, you broke the seals on your helmet the last time you crashed. You can’t go into an airless room either,” Twilight informed her.

“Oh. Uh… well… Gaela can fix my armor, right?”

“I have a better idea,” Gaela said, turning again to Gaines. “Executor, where would we find this passage? And are the controls to pressurize and unseal it accessible from within?”

“Yes, they are. You’ll find the entrance on sub-deck one, at the bottom of the stairwell. It will be disguised as a bulkhead, but I imagine that won’t fool a Techpriest,” Gaines explained. “There is no airlock. If you manage to close the external vents without depressurizing the surrounding decks somehow, you’ll be able to use the tunnels to access several points across Ishrem.”

“Are you coming with us?” Pinkie asked.

“I will not, no,” Gaines said, shifting uncomfortably behind the wreckage of his desk. “I have no need of escape. Whatever the fate of my station should be, I will share it.”

“He probably made a deal with the Inquisition that he would be safe if he remained here while the Sororitas butchered his people,” Gaela mused, opening the door again.

“I stand by my previous statement,” the man grunted, glowering at the Dark Techpriest’s back. “May whatever alien powers you serve watch over you, Miss Sparkle.”

“And you as well, Executor,” Twilight said, levitating her helmet back on. Then she turned around to leave. “Gaela, DON’T,” she snapped, spying the laser on her servo harness aiming backwards.

“We’re going to regret leaving him alive,” the Dark Techpriest grumbled on her way out.

“I don’t doubt it, but it’s the principle of the thing, darling,” Rarity chided, walking out behind her.

“May the Emperor’s slaves gut the rest of you vermin,” Gaines hissed under his breath as the last of the group pushed the door closed behind them.

Harvest of Steel
Deck 37-E
Shrine of Nurgle

“Thank you, Grandfather, for your many blessings. Thank you, oh lord of plagues, for your gift of longevity and freedom from the miseries of entropy. We have become one with the parasite, the virus, the disease. Our bodies swollen with the tokens of our worship…”

The prayers mixed with the droning of flies through the filth-strewn hall of the Chaos shrine. A dozen humans in masks and bedraggled robes chanted and coughed near the walls, some bearing censers of cursed incense. In the middle of the ceremony was Sliver, kneeling within a Smoldering trio of rings carved into the floor. There were a few other Space Marines behind him, their armor tarnished and weeping fluids from unpatched, swelling breaches.

“Hark!” shouted one of the preachers suddenly, “A voice invades our sanctum! What is your business, wretch?!”

Sliver turned sharply to look at the man who had spoken out. He was staggered and clutching his head, as if about to fall over. The Iron Warrior stood, his hand calmly seizing the siege hammer resting head-down next to him.

“AUGH!! It’s… It’s too much!” shouted the afflicted human, falling to his knees. His eyes started to shine, light pouring out of them. The other humans quickly backed away, whispering prayers and making arcane gestures in the air.

Sliver slowly approached, his hammer held so that he could crush the man with a lunge if need be.

“Danger! Ishrem… being overrun! Communications… down! This… This is… massacre!” the human said, his jaw moving unnaturally to speak words that were not his own. “Imperial soldiers… the… the Sororitas! Here! They are HERE!!”

Sliver stopped his approach.

“Docks… the barrier… no escape… HELP…” the man fell to the floor, gasping and retching in between words. “This is… the Hierophant. Please... Help us.” The speaker’s body shuddered as the enchantment passed, and he lay on the soiled ground gasping for air.

Sliver put a finger to his helmet. “Bridge, report. What iss the sstatuss in the hangar bay?”

There was a brief pause before the voice of the an Iron Warrior Warpsmith replied. “The blast shutters are closed for an emergency maintenance cycle, Lord Sliver, and the atmospheric shield was deactivated once the area was sealed. No other disruptions. Three other ship-”

“Have there been any communicationss from Ishrem in the lasst hour?” Sliver interrupted, turning on his heel and leaving the shrine. “If anyone wass repairing the atmosspheric shielding, it would have been one of our Techpriesstss. Did they report the tassk?”

“Negative, Commander Sliver. Is something wrong?”

A low growl started rising from the viscous mass within Sliver’s throat. “The sstation hass been boarded. I do not know how, but we musst deploy and counter-attack at once.”

“I… hm.” The voice on the other end of the vox channel paused. “… Understood, Lord Sliver. I’ll dispatch a Mechanicus team to manually reactivate the field and then breach the shutters.”

“That will take too long from thiss sside. The Warssmith is in there. As iss Kaelith. They musst be recovered,” Sliver retorted.

“Understood. Shall we breach the station without an atmospheric solution?”

“Undock immediately and bring uss around,” Sliver commanded, “I have a better idea.”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Primary dock access

Mantis gasped, the magical light around his horns and eyes fading away.

“It is done. The fleet should know of our plight now,” Mantis declared, pressing his front hooves together in a solemn prayer.

A scream issued from nearby, and another bright red splash of red painted the deck as someone was cut down by bolter fire. Mantis cringed and ducked back down behind a crate where many of his guard detail were sheltering. The guard ponies were squeezed together in a short row, rising and ducking in sequence to add a few desperate lasblasts to trade against the constant rain of boltgun fire.

“This position is untenable!” Lightning Dust shouted, covering in an alcove above next to an atmospheric cycler that was built into the ceiling. “We have to do something fast!”

The few Iron Warriors present formed the core of the defense, their disciplined boltgun fire thundering with a steady beat as they pinpointed the choicest targets. Every time a Sister of Battle tried to advance to new cover she was instantly hammered by short bursts of mass-reactive shells, often before the other defenders even noticed the movement. The soldiers dug in behind walls, pylons, trash heaps, and other structures fared somewhat better, but the Astartes were well-practiced at defeating much harder positions.

Unfortunately, their ammunition supplies were quickly running low, and their power armor was battered from a steady series of mass-reactive rounds pounding into them. One of the soldiers that had arrived to the docks more or less healthy had already had an arm utterly pulverized, and was currently leaning against the barricades and firing his boltgun one-handed while blood painted the floor beneath him. Constant volleys of lasers slashed across the slums of Ishrem, but they did little damage compared to the thunderous fusillades that answered.

“WITH FIRE AND STEEL SHALL THE HERETIC BE PURGED!!” shouted one of the armored women, her amplified voice promptly lifted by dozens of war cries.

“Scratch! Join me!” Mantis shouted, sitting down on his haunches. “I need the additional magic boost to calm these fanatics.”

Vinyl, who was sheltering behind a different crate, perked up and immediately sprinted for the Hierophant. Heavy bolter fire pounded the container a moment later, ripping it almost in half and spilling a stack of lasguns onto the decks. The unicorn shuddered at hearing the explosions behind her, but didn’t stop.

Mantis began to chant, his horns glowing softly and his eyes closing. Vinyl dove to the floor in front of him, sliding to a stop on her side. Her horn began to glow as well, and she levitated some chalk to sketch out a (very crude) ritual circle on the deck around the cabal’s Hierophant.

Mantis opened his eyes, and light poured from his sockets as his mind took hold of the Warp. “I can sense their will, blooming in the Empyrean. Their hatred is… formidable,” he grunted. “Brothers! Cease fire!” He shouted suddenly. “Go to ground and reload! Allow me a moment!”

The Astartes responded immediately, reflecting only briefly on the fact that they were taking orders from a talking pony while they allowed their boltguns to cool and their wounds to clot. The other soldiers and civilians – many of them scrambling for the fallen lasguns – seemed hesitant, but after the Astartes stopped they suddenly saw the wisdom in not being an obvious combat threat.

The magic around Mantis pulsed.

The first hint that something was wrong was when the enemy suddenly ceased fire. The second clue was a distortion in the vox links.

The battle hymns playing over the Battle Sisters’ helmets started to stutter, like the systems were malfunctioning simultaneously. Then the visor displays of their power armor started flickering. The soldiers’ vision and hearing faded in and out, and it seemed like parts of the battlefield were shifting out of their perception.

The Sisters of Battle observed this with grim, perturbed silence, shifting deeper into cover as their environment seemed to peel away around them. First the distant enemy withered away to a white mist, then the towers, shafts, and garbage heaps that stood below them seemed to crumble into dust on an inexplicable breeze. The walls and buildings around them remained, somewhat, so that the Sisters separated by such obstacles still couldn’t see each other in this strange, misbegotten space. However as the terrain continued to unmake itself these surfaces turned into mirrors, and many warriors found themselves staring at their own battered, armored faces.

“Witchcraft,” snarled one of the Sisters.

“Yes,” agreed a voice behind them. “You must let these people go. Their blood will not sate your fury.”

Several Sisters of Battle whirled on the voice, their bolters ready to pulverize the speaker. They barely hesitated when they saw that the speaker was a pony – a strange, twin-horned pony at that – but they halted entirely when the speaking Sister raised an arm to signal to them to hold.

Mantis glanced from one warrior to the next, his expression calm, even warm. “You cannot succeed here. Let no more blood stain this place. No more of your precious lives wasted in this hovel.”

One of the nearby warriors very nearly quivered with anger. “C-Cowardly witch! You speak of-”

“Kiko,” interrupted the Sister with her arm still raised, “do not argue with the hallucination. It only seeks to misdirect.”

The admonished soldier immediately fell to one knee, bowing her head. “Yes, Dogmata Theamin! I see the Emperor’s light! I heed his voice! I know his justice!”

“I am more than a mere illusion,” Mantis said. “Your will fails you. Your senses-”

“The Emperor is my protector, my light, and my life,” Theamin interrupted, her voice ringing clearly even in the strange psychic space. “Deny the witch. Purge the traitor. Let not the machinations of heresy sway you from this holy purpose.”

“Emperor be my shield against this corruption!” the other warriors chanted in a badly synchronized chorus.

Mantis frowned. “You can ignore me if you wish. It will not deliver you to your enemies. You’re stuck here. You may as well speak with me.”

Theamin reloaded her boltgun. “As He protects my soul from the terrors of heresy, so does He guide my hand to remove this blight from His galaxy,” she intoned. “Let faith be your eyes, Sisters!”

“What are you babbling about?” Mantis asked, his eyes pulsing brighter.

“They’ve… They’ve really stopped shooting. What’s going on? Did the psyker get them all?” asked a woman peering around a power pylon.

The Sisters of Battle kneeled behind makeshift barricades or covered behind walls, shifting slightly and occasionally shouting. They were not, however, advancing or shooting. Some members of the crowd took the opportunity to flee the area, opting to take their chances elsewhere. Others started dragging the wounded out of the open, searching the crates for more weapons, or reloading their guns.

“Should… Shouldn’t we shoot them now? They’re… hypnotized, or whatnot, right?” asked a mercenary pressing a blood-soaked rag against his leg.

“The psyker said to hold fire, and has delivered us a respite,” replied an Iron Warrior firmly. “I do not know this sorcery, but if he did manage to contact the ship, then any delay is to our advantage, and attacking may end this trance.”

“Oi! Looks like the fireworks have finally died down!”

Sprinting to the barricades and weaving through the scattered refugees mostly stumbling in the other direction was Phage Squadron. Poison Kiss was in the lead, with Breezy Blight and Rot Blossom following at a slightly slower pace so they didn’t disturb the crates they were carrying on their backs. Erin Whyd followed, her eyes pinned on the box of obnoxious buzzing even once she was stepping over streaks of blood splashed across the deck. Kiss raced on ahead to skid to a stop behind the barricades next to a Space Marine, her own crate stabilized with a humming yellow glow.

“What’s the word, my Lord? The shutters are closed and the enemy is-”

“Take defensive positions and do not fire unless fired upon,” the Iron Warrior interrupted. “Reinforcements are coming. Probably.”

“Champion!” Kiss chirped as the other armored mares rushed into cover behind her. “I was right antsy about what all these armored muppets were doing heading this way, but it seems you got things under control!”

“Let faith be your eyes, sisters!” shouted one of the Sororitas soldiers, raising her boltgun. Then she fired a single shot.

The mass-reactive bolt slammed into the side of Rot Blossom’s head, exploding against her helmet and pitching her to the ground. The boxes on her back tumbled as well, and an agitated buzzing noise came from one of them. Erin quickly ran up to see if the mare was okay, although she briefly checked that the spilled crate was still sealed first.

“It looks like the respite is over,” growled the Iron Warrior as several other Sisters raised their weapons.

A volley of bolter fire thundered across Ishrem, but unlike the first shot, these bolts seemed hopelessly inaccurate. Most of them went high by virtue of the Sisters’ generally elevated firing line, slamming into the blast shutters that blocked off the hangar. Others scattered uselessly among the hundred or so feet of open deck that separated the two groups.

“Psyker, can you quell them or not?!” demanded another Chaos Marine.

Mantis hissed, hearing the soldier’s demand but unable to reply properly. Magic energy clung to the tips of his horns like candle flames, and the glowing circle of eldritch runes on the deck around him stuttered and flickered.

Vinyl Scratch looked up nervously as bolt shells started whipping by overhead again. “Give it a little longer, please! He can do it! I know he can!”

Poison Kiss ran over to them, skidding to a stop next to the other mare. “I can help! Everyone keep your heads down, we’ve got this!” Boltgun fire was still erupting sporadically from the Sisters’ lines, but it seemed completely aimless beyond firing in the correct general direction.

She carefully slid the boxes she was carrying onto the floor, and then her horn casing pulsed as she started feeding power into the magic construct. “By the might and glory of Nurgle, the dark god of decay and harbinger of death, do I condemn thee! Let Grandfather’s power flense flesh from bone and boil the hearts of the unworthy!”

Kiss’s visor started to glow along with her horn, the visor lenses becoming pools of bright red light. The symbols on the ground rapidly became brighter and more stable. Vinyl Scratch felt a new surge of magic power rushing through her as the circle was strengthened but nonetheless scooted away a bit, a bit put off by the talk of bone-flensing.

“My Emperor, I am your sword, and you are my shield,” intoned Theamin, squeezing the trigger of her boltgun. The weapon bucked in her arms, the roaring discharge a sweet punctuation to her prayer. That she couldn’t quite tell where the gunshots were going didn’t seem to worry her. “Just as you shield me from the hateful winds of the Warp and the foul words of the heretic, I bring holy deliverance to those who think to oppose your-”

The strange, magical space around the Adeptus Sororitas shimmered. A wave of nausea rolled over the warriors, interrupting Theamin’s entreaty as bile threatened to invade her throat. And then the ground burst open.

Black chains emerged from breaches in the floor and lashed around the warriors’ arms. At first the zealots barely flinched at the emergence of the snake-like bindings, but as their arms and armaments were entangled and physically pulled downward to aim at their feet, shouts of shock and anger came from the squads of Battle Sisters. As Theamin fought to keep her own aim straight against the pull of the chains, a flickering blue flame floated in front of her.

Mantis appeared a moment later in a puff of blue light, floating in the air with his tail gently swinging back and forth. “You will not deny me, zealot. Your Emperor cannot save you.”

“Emperor, you are my light in the gloom,” Theamin chanted through clenched teeth as the psyker hovered over her.

“Look at me,” Mantis commanded. His voice boomed in her skull, crowding out the next words of her prayer. “You are LOST.”

Theamin closed her eyes, refusing to look upon the psyker. “Do not submit to the trickery and lies of the witch! Your will is as diamond, shining under the gaze of the Emperor’s aegis of faith!” She dropped her weapon and clapped her hands together, her chains rattling noisily.

“Be silent,” Mantis commanded. His voice was everywhere in this strange void, and several Sisters fell to the ground while pressing their hands over their helmets, trying in vain to block the blasphemous echo. “This is your last chance.”

“From the blasphemy of the fallen, our Emperor, deliver us,” Theamin prayed. “From the begetting of daemons, our Emperor, deliver us. FROM THE CURSE OF THE MUTANT, OUR EMPEROR, DELIVER US!”

The other soldiers started joining in her prayer, their voices building together. Mantis felt an uneasy ripple through the Warp, like a shudder that crawled through one reality to the next. Possibilities and strategies passed through his mind, either seeking to reaffirm his dominance over the psychic space or redouble his efforts in suppressing the stubborn minds within.

“TREMBLE BEFORE HIS MAJESTY, FOR WE ALL WALK IN HIS IMMORTAL SHADOW!!”

Light exploded around the Sister Dogmata, and Mantis yelped in surprise as his psychic presence was buffeted by some unknown force. The chains entangling the Sororitas crumbled to dust, and the other soldiers stood up with their hands pressed together in prayer and their heads bowed. The Hierophant shouted against the tide of power, reciting a new spell, but his words were lost and his magic fizzled in an instant.

The light continued building, and Mantis closed his eyes.

“Guh! Wh-What?” Mantis jolted in surprise, his eyes snapping open.

The magic light around his horns went out, and the glowing inscription on the floor dimmed. Kiss and Vinyl flinched, their own horns also going dark. They looked to the Hierophant, waiting for an explanation, but the goat-horned stallion just blinked silently, looking stunned.

“THE WITCH’S PLOY IS BROKEN!!” announced one of the Sisters of Battle, triumphantly stepping up onto a cargo container and aiming her boltgun down at the panicked mob.

A mass-reactive round struck her in the abdomen before she could squeeze the trigger, sending her reeling backward. This signaled the immediate return to the pitched firefight, with a storm of lasgun fire being met with a much deadlier boltgun fusillade.

“Well, it was nice while it lasted,” Vinyl Scratch said, dropping down lower to the floor.

“I don’t understand what happened!” Mantis complained, his breath heaving and his horns flickering with waning magical light. “Was that soldier a psyker? The energy wave that ejected me, I’ve never felt anything like it!”

“Bloody shame, but that’s the way it goes sometimes,” Poison Kiss replied, rushing up against the barricade and levitating her boltgun. “Say, if we survive this, would you fancy getting some tea later?”

Vinyl blinked and looked up at her. “Uh, yeah, actually that sounds prett-”

“Not you,” the cultist clarified just before firing a burst across the cavern.

Bolts immediately hammered the crates in front of her in response, and a rapturous bellow came from the enemy firing line.

“DO NOT FALTER!! DO NOT FEAR!! SLAY THE HERETIC!! KILL THE TRAITORS!! PURGE THEM ALL!!”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Sub-level 1-D
WARNING: Atmospheric containment failure detected
Quarantine level beta in effect

Rainbow Dash plummeted down the stairwell, the level number markings blurring past her while the floor rapidly approached. She twisted her wings to swing her legs below her, and then activated the impulse blasters in her boots a split second before impact. She stopped dead just inches above the floor and a strong wave of air blasted out from under her, instantly clearing away the dust that had gathered on this rarely-used section of the station. Her armor’s inertial compensators struggled against the shift in force (as well as the damage to the helmet machinery) and lit up her visor with warning runes, but soon the moment passed and the display reset.

“Yo, you girls coming?!” Rainbow shouted up to the others, only to be met with a chorus of grumbling that echoed down through the shaft.

The stairwell was a tall, rectangular opening that descended past several large sets of blast doors in a winding, coiled stairway bolted to the outer walls. A thick central cylinder was planted in the center, presumably to support the stairs to some extent; there were several rusted and broken lengths of metal sticking out from it, although none of them connected to anything in a useful way. The Equinoughts slowed next to each door as they rushed down the stairs, wary of the possibility of it suddenly opening. Or in Pinkie’s case, sniffing at each one to search for treasure. Some of them were sealed and mag-locked with heavy external devices. Others were clearly unlocked, with working access cogitators and green indicator lumens. Some were badly rusted and had trash piled up against them such that they were barely identifiable as doors.

“So are we sure the Executor was telling the truth and not leading us into a trap?” Jerriha asked between heavy breaths. “I feel like he has more to gain by us running into the Imperial soldiers and getting captured than he does by us escaping.”

“We’re all outta better ideas, sugarcube!” Applejack replied, the stairs quivering ominously with her every step. “Learn to trust a little, yeah?”

“What do you think, Darling?” Rarity asked, craning her head to look up at Gaela. “You’ve been here before, and you know these people better than us. What are the chances this is another trap?”

“One hundred percent,” Gaela replied blandly.

Some of the ponies stumbled at that admission, but Spike was still riding on Gaela’s back and thus he recovered first. “You’re sure he betrayed us? How?”

“I am not certain he is aware, but my analysis of radiation waves and signum feedback scattering confirms there was a vox transceiver hidden in the room with the Executor,” Gaela explained, still marching down the stairs as she spoke. “Inquisitorial agents surely know of our escape route.”

Twilight perked up. “Ah-HA! And now since they think we’re going through the secret tunnel, we’ll take another route to trick them, right?”

“Negative. We are proceeding as planned,” the Dark Acolyte confirmed.

“Got it!” Pinkie chirped. “Why, though?”

“It remains the most viable path of retreat.” Gaela descended to the level just above the bottom of the stairwell, and then suddenly hoisted herself over the guardrail, leaping down the rest of the way. Spike yelped and clung tight to her servo arms, and there was a noisy crash as her greaves hit the bottom deck.

“Took you long enough!” Rainbow said as the Dark Techpriest stood up again. “Seriously though, why are we taking this route if the Imperial guys know we’re coming?”

“They likely expect us to vent this area by forcing open the tunnel access,” Gaela explained turning around and moving toward the wall. “The Adeptus Sororitas would have a strong advantage, given that pressurized power armor is standard-issue and void exposure will not hinder them. We shall circumvent the access barrier, which might delay their assault long enough to escape.”

“’Might delay,’ huh?” Applejack asked, lumbering down the stairs onto the sub-deck.

“The tactical prioritus of the Sororitas is… difficult to parse, at times,” Gaela admitted, pressing her hand to the wall. “They are already demonstrating strategic behavior highly uncharacteristic of their order. Regardless, our path of retreat is clear.”

She looked back. “It is here. Spike, climb down and remain with the others. Sparkle, teleport with me into the tunnel. We will restore life support and then open the path for the rest of the squad.”

“This is not a great position to defend,” Jerriha admitted, staring up at the extended stairwell above. “How long do you think you’ll be?”

“Uncertain. A matter of minutes is most likely. I will keep Apple updated as to my progress. At such short range our vox connections should be functional despite the jamming,” Gaela replied. “If this position becomes untenable, retreat to one of the side passages.”

Twilight galloped up to the wall, and then took a moment to let her visor calculate the bulkhead’s thickness. “Okay, we’ll be right back!” she assured her friends as the psykant circuit on her helmet began to glow.

A purple flash consumed her and Gaela, and they disappeared.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Sub-level 1-X
WARNING: Total atmospheric containment loss detected: void exposure imminent!
Quarantine level beta in effect

Gaela and Twilight appeared in a bright violet flash, and the former immediately dropped into a crouch and swung her left arm up. Her ion blaster crackled, the plasma arcs writhing around the three metal claws around the barrel, but the Techpriest’s visor returned no targets. She let her arm drop and slowly stood up again.

“Uh, are we… clear? We’re clear, right? You had me worried for a second, there,” Twilight asked nervously, her voice coming in over the vox.

“We are clear,” Gaela confirmed. “The gravity plating is still functioning, but could lose power easily. Keep your helmet sealed and your greaves mag-locked and let’s proceed.” She suited actions to words, walking forward at a very stilted pace.

Twilight didn’t think she really needed to worry about losing contact with the floor since she could fly, but she definitely didn’t want to argue with Gaela about it so she did as asked. This section of Ishrem was quite underdeveloped, with ragged rock walls on one side that served as a bulkhead against open space. The other walls and ceiling were a patchwork of incomplete paneling, rusted vents, and the odd pipe (both burst and, helpfully, intact specimens) with jagged stony protrusions between them. At first it gave the impression of a project in development, but the more Twilight saw of it the more it seemed like the builders had actually given up long ago. The pair spent but a few minutes walking through the silent, dusty corridors before Gaela spotted the device she was looking for built into a bulkhead ahead of them.

“I have identified the control cogitator,” Gaela said, quickening her pace slightly. “It has not been disabled. Good. Slightly curious, but good.”

“Why is that curious?” Twilight asked.

“Against a civilian uprising or raiders venting this section would be a substantial defense, and they could be prevented from restoring life support by simply locking down the terminal,” Gaela explained while she closed with the device. “Against Imperial forces, not only is hard vacuum a limited tactical impediment, but any Techpriest of merit can use the cogitator to seal the area once more if it is not disabled. Perhaps it is trapped.”

Gaela stopped about four feet away from the device and dropped to one knee, reciting a brief prayer while her visor did a deeper scan of the machine. Suspect parts and irregular scars were noted one by one, and then dismissed as she decided none of them could be viable pieces of a trigger or explosive. The Dark Techpriest stood up again, and then pressed a button on the control board. The monitor flickered to life uneasily, reflecting its lack of use or maintenance, but no anomalies occurred. She flipped open the cap to a standard S-44 dataport and stuck one of her servo arms into the opening, frowning slightly at the amount of dust that plumed from the contact.

Then Gaela expanded her vox link. “Apple, we have reached the controls. No significant impediments. I am accessing the vent controls and life support now,” she announced while she began slicing the desperately shoddy data-wards protecting the terminal access.

“Not too shabby! No trouble on this end,” Applejack replied. “Pinkie’s sniffin’ around the other doors though, so we’d appreciate ya getting’ us through ‘fore she finds any more shady characters.”

“Affirmative,” Gaela said with uncharacteristic sympathy. Then she set her axe down so her most dexterous hand was free to use the console.

“… Maybe the Executor had some other way to keep the Imperial forces from just closing the vents and turning the air back on,” Twilight suddenly surmised.

“Do you have any theories?” Gaela asked while she brought up the section’s life support controls.

“Yeah: I think they blasted a hole in the wall to keep the tunnel from re-pressurizing.”

Gaela’s cybernetic finger stopped, hovering over the key that would close the external vents. “… Do you have evidence for this?”

“There is a big hole in the wall, yes.”

Gaela clicked the button and then disconnected from the console while picking up her axe again. There was a slight shudder through the floor as the external vents were slowly sealed, although no noise reached her through the airless tunnels. The Techpriest approached Twilight, who was further down the path and staring at something beyond a big metal block vent.

Once she had a good look, Gaela confirmed Twilight’s observation: a large hole, over a meter across, had been blasted into the rock that otherwise shielded the corridor from open void. The young alicorn looked up in askance at Gaela. Gaela frowned under her helmet.

“We will cover it up,” she announced. “I shall pry off one of the loose bulkhead plates and place it over the breach.”

“Will that work? The surrounding rock seems pretty uneven. It might not seal properly.”

“It need only slow the loss of atmosphere below the rate of supply,” Gaela noted, turning to select a usable plate from the constructed walls. Then she re-connected the vox to Applejack. “Apple, we have encountered a delay. I expect it to be resolved within approximately four minutes.

“Okay, but we may have a bit of a problem out here! All the doors have locked! Jerriha thinks the Imperial ladies’re movin’ in!”

“I will expedite the process,” Gaela assured the farmer. “Sparkle, take the console and prepare to activate this deck’s life support. I will-”

“HEY, LOOK OUT!! GRENADES!! PINKIE, GIT DOWN!!”

Twilight flinched when the vox link cut out, and then turned sharply toward the way they had came.

“Sparkle, concentrate on the objective,” Gaela commanded, slicing into one of the incomplete walls covering a patch of scorched stone. “Any immediate victory against the Sororitas is meaningless if we do not secure an exit route.”

“Right! Sorry!” the armored alicorn clenched her teeth and approached the console again. “Hang in there, girls! We can do this!”

Gaela’s servo arm grabbed onto the edge of the plating and pulled. The metal groaned, and then after a few seconds the rusted bolts securing the plating started to break one by one. Soon the entire thing fell loose, slamming its edge onto the deck soundlessly.

Gaela suddenly turned her head to the side, staring down the barely-lit hall that ran along the outermost section of the station. An alert rune was blinking quietly on her visor display, marking an unidentified energy trace. After a few seconds the rune vanished. No contacts were evident.

“Gaela? What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, turning away from the console.

“Nothing,” the Techpriest replied, lifting up the metal slab. “Activate this deck’s life support. I will repair the breach.” She slammed the plate into place over the hole, and then her welding laser started burning into the edge.

Twilight reared up to get a good view of the monitor, and her magic depressed the buttons one by one to navigate the system menu. “It says life support is offline because it detects the hull breach.”

“Use the system override in the tertiary deck control sub-cluster,” Gaela instructed before kicking the corner of the plate, folding it over a rocky protrusion.

“Okay… Ah, I found it. So then I select…” An warning icon blinked on Twilight’s visor, and she whirled around.

Her eye caught a wisp of red as she stared across the hallway. It was totally empty except for her and Gaela, and she spent a few seconds blinking her eye as Gaela continued with the makeshift hull repair. Twilight frowned at the blinking icon, trying to recall its precise meaning from her reading of the visor documentation. Her force harmonizer slowly floated off of her back, and with a gentle pulse of thought the energy blade activated.

“What kind of energy surge is that?” she mumbled to herself right before text appeared on her optical augment.

WARNING: Spatial anomaly detected. Proximity alert.

The Techpriest 7229 appeared like a coiled string of color snapping into place behind the armored alicorn. A baleful yellow eye peering out from beneath a crimson hood twitched downward, pulsing gently. Mechanical arms – four of them – quietly unfolded, and one of them reached down to position itself behind Twilight’s helmet. The servo wrist rotated, and a needle extended while an array of metal fingers folded back.

The process took barely a second, and then the needle plunged into the rubber sheath that joined Twilight’s helmet to the rest of her armor. The syringe pierced through easily, sinking into the flesh beneath and delivering its payload.

Twilight’s eye bulged. “GAELA!!” she screamed into the vox, reflexively kicking behind her. Her greaves crashed into a surprisingly flimsy shin, and 7229 was unsteadied. She did not fall, however, and another arm quickly took hold of Twilight by her gorget. The force harmonizer swung inward, but this reaction proved too slow. The assailant struck it out of the air with a powered blade, and it jumped away with a sharp crack.

Gaela snapped her head to the side, although her welder was still working to secure the bulkhead plating. She wasted no time gawking at the bizarre Techpriest and flipped her servo laser around to face behind her. At the same time she hammered a boot into the middle of the plate, folding it inward and wedging it in place.

7229 raised an arm that was already sparking with power. Gaela’s laser fired and struck a barrier screen projected by the raised hand, and then a different arm darted under the folds of the agent’s crimson robe. It withdrew a large, cylinder-shaped grenade of unusual make, and 7229 emitted a blast of static that sang a brief prayer of arming in Binaric.

Twilight’s horn casing flashed a brilliant purple, and then started to dim immediately. She could feel her muscles relaxing against her will, and her vision was darkening. She tried to cast a spell, but it was like her thoughts were turning to mush. The complex patterns that dictated which flows of energy did what to which object slipped away from her mind mid-casting, and after another moment she couldn’t even remember what spell she was trying to use.

“Guh… Gae… la…” she mumbled sleepily as energy flashed above her. “How… How did… uhnn…”

Twilight’s vision went dark and her muscles went slack. The force harmonizer quivered on the floor, as if trying to summon the strength to rise again, and then fell still.

Gaela pushed away from the wall, her axe rising and already sparking with a lethal molecular disruption field. 7229 tossed the grenade while her lower arms hoisted Twilight up to be carried. Gaela’s own optics quickly identified the grenade as a stasis generator, and it gently spun past her while she charged at the crimson-robed cyborg.

The stasis grenade detonated, freezing Gaela in space and time. A shell of distorted, glowing flashes surrounded her from the light trying to enter and escape the event horizon, but 7229 did not stop to marvel at the effects. Twilight was cradled in her lower arms, armor and all, and the strange Techpriest ran.

Gaela felt a sickly lurch when she emerged from the stasis effect, her axe still held high and crackling with power. She stopped, as Twilight and her assailant were no longer here. Checking her internal chronometer confirmed it was attempting to update and synch.

Gaela glanced down the hallway. A layer of rock dust had filtered in from the external vents; detritus from the mining operations that was drawn in by the gravity plating. Strangely-shaped footprints were mixed with smooth, light arcs that curved back and forth through the dirt. A robe dragging across the floor.

Gaela briskly moved to the cogitator, disabling the mag-lock soles that kept her footing secure in case of emergencies. After tapping two buttons in rapid sequence the life support system shuddered to life, opening internal vents and blasting (more or less) fresh air into the hall. The poorly-secured panel covering the hull breach groaned at the increasing pressure, but it held, and air seeped out at a slow enough rate for atmospheric pressure to build.

Gaela turned away without further hesitation, sprinting along the trail left by Twilight’s captor.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Primary dock access

“Flamers! They’re moving in with flamers!” Lightning Dust shouted, firing another burst of lasblasts on the Sisters of Battle. The spread cut across a pair of armored women were rushing across the open deck, the lasers cracking against ceramite plating with a burst of sparks and a puff of smoke.

She ducked back behind the atmospheric cycler, and then she felt it quake as several bolter rounds cut into the machinery. Over the course of the battle the device had already been gutted far beyond being functional, and Lightning figured it would only take a few more rounds until the entire thing was ripped out of the ceiling. She had by far the best firing position out of the defenders, but as far as she could tell she hadn’t managed to take down a single enemy soldier as of yet. They were simply too well dug in and protected, to say nothing of the difference in firepower.

“Psykers! Do something!” barked an Iron Warrior as he dropped his empty boltgun. He drew his bolt pistol and started firing on the advancing Sisters, the weapon bucking furiously in his hand.

“I’ll raise the stiffs into zombies and have them bum rush the line!” Poison Kiss volunteered as she fired a spread with her boltgun. The weapon shook mightily under the pale yellow grip of her magic, and one of the flamer troops staggered under the barrage.

“Would… Would that help? That doesn’t sound very helpful,” Vinyl admitted.

“If you have any more spiffy magic tricks of your own, feel free to use them! You’re sorcerers, aren’t you?!” Kiss’s horn flashed as she argued, and threads of ghostly yellow started seeping across the deck.

Mantis threw his head back, his horns blazing with shrouds of purple. A wall of similarly colored flame exploded across the deck, spreading in a long line to block the enemy’s advance. The Battle Sisters at the front recoiled and promptly diverted into cover.

“SISTERS!! DO NOT FALTER BEFORE THE WITCH’S CORRUPTIONS!!” Theamin bellowed, standing atop a smoldering barricade. “THE EMPEROR IS YOUR PROTECTOR AND YOU MUST TRUST IN HIM!! THE HERETIC’S FOUL SORCERY CANNOT TOUCH YOU!!”

“Oh, blast. They’re not… They’re just going to run through the flames aren’t they?” Mantis growled, his horns starting to dim again. The power-armored women were rushing forward again, screaming oaths and bellowing hymns while racing through the enchanted wall. “Whoever this ‘Emperor’ fellow is, he offers some impressive magic resistance.”

“It’s no use! We can’t stop them!” Vinyl said in a panic. Her bright fuchsia glasses hung off one ear as she scrambled backward, eyes wide.

“Stay in position, you ninny!” Poison Kiss barked. “We’re not going to get through this unless-” A wave of fire rolled over the crate she was using as cover, and Kiss yelped as the thermo-regulators in her armor sent a series of angry warnings to her visor display. The threads of magic slowly winding toward the nearby corpses faded with her broken concentration, leaving the dead untouched.

“PURIFY THEM ALL WITH FIRE AND STEEL, SISTERS!!” Theamin shouted, her voice exultant between bursts from her boltgun. “SLAY THE HERETIC!! KILL THE MUTANT!! PURGE THE UN-”

A tremendous crash and a scream from behind interrupted the Sister Dogmata, and she whirled around. A power-armored body bounced across the ground, slamming into the siding of a scrap-built shack and tearing through the wall. A pair of other Sisters sprinted past her, trying to get to better cover even if meant weathering the spray of incoming lasblasts.

Emerging from around a column was a massive, feline-shaped alien with no eyes or ears. It jumped at a Battle Sister bringing her boltgun around to fire, but a swat of its claws pitched the soldier into the air and sent her spinning into a web of rusted pipes. The creature moved with impressive agility and silence for its size, although any attempt at stealth was foiled when it lifted its head into the air and roared.

Several Battle Sisters began to turn around and regroup, but Theamin held up one hand while she holstered her boltgun.

“SISTERS!! DO NOT BE DIVERTED FROM YOUR CAUSE!!” the Sister Dogmata announced while she drew her sword. “DELIVER JUSTICE TO THE HERETICS WITH ALL HASTE!! THE PERFIDIOUS XENO WILL FEEL OUR WRATH SOON ENOUGH!!”

The beast snarled, lowering its head and spreading its legs, as if prepared to pounce. Theamin walked toward the beast fearlessly, thumbing the activation bead on her power sword. Her free hand drew her bolt pistol, and she watched the reticule on her visor display jump around the monstrosity seeking weak points.

“Oh dear! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

Theamin nearly tripped at the earnestly sympathetic voice coming from atop a shack next to the alien. A patch of color warped and flickered into view, and then the Sister Dogmata was staring into the bright red visor lights of Fluttershy’s helmet.

Fluttershy stood up straight so that she could see over the edge of the roof. “I’m very sorry, but the alien kitty really hates guns! Do you think you could stop shooting people? I’m sure you have a very good reason, and I promise you can start again after I get the kitten onto the ship, okay?”

Theamin did not respond, staring up at the armored pony. The alien licked its lips, its whiskers twitching. Fluttershy looked up at the furious battle happening in front of the docks, and she frowned under her helmet.

“Oh, uhm, is there a reason the docks are blocked off? The vox isn’t working so I don’t really know what’s going on. Should I come back later? I can come back later if you want.”

Theamin didn’t really know how to respond to any of that, so she raised her gun and shot Fluttershy in the forehead.

The pegasus shrieked as the bolt shell exploded against her helmet, pitching her head back and knocking her over. The alien leapt at the Sister Dogmata, claws emerging from its massive paws to rend the woman limb from limb. Theamin’s sword lashed out in a shining blue arc, slicing through the alien’s chest before the beast smashed her aside.

Theamin was thrown hard into a barricade with deep tears carved into her armor across the hip and abdomen. Her pistol was jarred loose of her grip and bounced across the floor, but she managed to keep hold of her sword while she leapt back to her feet. Red danger runes flashed on her helmet along with a detailed explanation of her armor damage, but as usual she couldn’t make any sense of the contraption.

“Suffer not the alien to live,” she intoned darkly, taking a krak grenade into her free hand. “Come at me, beast! I fear no misbegotten predator!”

The alien snarled, blood oozing from the sizzling wound across its chest. Its leg muscles were tense, but it hesitated to pounce again. Then it suddenly raised its head, its whiskers twitching.

Theamin, as well as everyone else in the area, heard a crash and the sound of tearing metal rise above the din of gunfire. The deck shuddered slightly, and a chorus of new commands started coming from the squad leaders below. Theamin risked a glance to the side.

The drill-like noses of a half-dozen massive metal tendrils had punched through the shutters cutting off the hangar. Each one twisted and quivered, and then split open at the tip. The refugees from the station – most of them prone on the ground or huddled behind anything that could feasibly keep them out of the line of fire – stared with wide eyes and slack jaws as Iron Warriors sprinted out onto the deck to join the combat. The surviving mercenaries and ponies whooped and cheered at their arrival, quite pleased that there would be many more larger and more dangerous targets to attract the Sisters’ ire.

The closest Sisters of Battle who were sweeping the barricades with flamers found themselves targeted first, a dozen boltguns cutting them apart in rapid sequence. The Chaos Space Marines formed loose firing lines and marched over the scorched and bloodstained decks in the advance, while behind them the assault tendrils disgorged the next wave of soldiers. Within seconds, mass-reactive rounds were hammering the entrenched Battle Sisters covering in Ishrem’s dwellings, and the Sororitas found themselves rapidly outgunned.

Theamin’s vox suddenly received an emergency override while she shifted her gaze back to the alien.

“All units, fall back immediately to the evacuation point! By the order of Inquisitor Gholth, all units are ordered to retreat immediately!”

“Despicable,” Theamin grunted, thumbing the activation bead of her power sword. “But should the Emperor will it, there shall be one more of His enemies I send screaming to the Warp this day!”

The alien snarled but took a step back, its whiskers tingling as they sensed the destructive energies on the sword’s edge. Theamin charged, flicking away the pin from the grenade and howling an incoherent battle cry. Then a photon grenade landed between them, pulsing with light and sound so intense that Theamin was blinded even through her helmet’s filtering systems. Her charge didn’t slow in the least, and her sword lashed out in a wide, crackling arc.

The alien beast gingerly hopped to one side, and the blade cut through empty air. Theamin didn’t stumble, however, turning the strike into an even wider slash that swung her around. Her other hand held the krak grenade tightly, keeping the fuse handle suppressed.

“You will not escape my steel, xenos!” she announced, unable to hear her own voice for the ringing in her ears. “The Emperor’s undying gaze guides my fury!”

A huge paw slammed into her back, hurling the Sister Dogmata forward into a wall. She grunted at the jaw-rattling impact, but remained standing despite being briefly stunned. Then the alien’s claws tore into her sword arm, ripping through the armor sleeves and knocking her entirely off of her feet. She skidded along the floor, blood and sparks trailing from her armor until she came to a stop face-up on the ground.

Theamin immediately started to rise, a determined oath already emerging through the pain and nausea to her lips. The alien slammed a paw down on her sword arm, however, and the jolt of agony turned the oath into an angry grunt as she was pinned on her back.

“Oh dear, she still has that grenade, doesn’t she?” Fluttershy fretted while she watched the feline monstrosity loom over the helpless Sister. “Hold on, maybe I can disarm-”

“PERISH, MONSTROSITY!!” Theamin, having recovered enough vision to make out the big dark shape above her, thrust the grenade forward toward its face.

The alien bit onto her arm, its huge teeth punching through the armor layers and cutting through the flesh and bone beneath. With a twist of its neck it tore the arm off at the elbow, and then the beast turned to the side and spat it out, grenade and all. The explosive went off as it struck the deck, blasting a small crater into some exposed rock surface.

“… That’s not what I meant by ‘disarm,’” Fluttershy explained patiently. “Okay, she’s harmless now, so let’s-”

Theamin slammed her knee up into the alien’s chest wound, eliciting a loud yelp from the beast and instantly infuriating it further.

Fluttershy winced and then sighed as the massive feline started tearing the woman apart. “Well, I tried…”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Primary dock access
Assault tendril 3

Sliver marched out onto the deck, the single eye of his helmet staring into the shabby, miserable city carved into the heart of the asteroid. Smoke billowed from a dozen blazing structures, forming into thin, swirling columns that wound up into the nearest ventilator blocks. The noise of bolter fire had largely gone silent, and no klaxons or warning alarms sounded across the station either, even after the hangar shutters had been punctured and the environmental seals broken. While Sliver generally considered Ishrem’s systems to be in such lamentable condition that it was barely safe enough to visit, he had to assume the relative quiet was sabotage, not neglect.

His gaze dropped to the bloodied deck before the blast shutters. Many human corpses littered the floor here, struck by stray bolt rounds, but the vast majority of the enemy fire had clearly been absorbed by some hastily-assembled barricades made from scrap metal and cargo crates. Three Iron Warrior corpses lay behind the cover, their armor scorched and pitted by incoming fire. Two more were unconscious, but being stabilized; one by the goat-horned pony Mantis.

His visor crossed the space before the barricades. Some dozen bodies lay on the ground, their ornate power armor riddled with bolter impacts and still oozing warm blood. Not very many.

“Lord Sliver, the Adeptus Sororitas have fallen back,” announced a squad Champion, coming up behind the hulking Vice-Commander. “They retreated almost immediately after we deployed.”

“Unussual for thosse zealotss,” Sliver grumbled. “Ssee that our wounded are evacuated immediately. If you require the aid of our mortal forcess, they are under your command. Any you are not ussing are to board the flagship immediately. We musst be prepared to leave quickly, if necesssary.”

“Of course, Lord,” the Champion nodded. “The Imperial scum split into groups and fled into the laborer tunnels in the asteroid walls rather than running into the central city. I will prepare pursuit teams.”

“Negative,” Sliver replied calmly. Seeing the lesser Marine hesitate, he elaborated. “We have no idea how long the Ssororitass have had the run of thiss place. Their retreat pathss may be trapped, and will reduce our numerical advantage. Move acrosss the central sslum and break directly into the control centerss. We musst locate the Warssmith. If you happen upon Executor Gainess, detain him and bring him to me alive.”

“Understood, Lord.” The Champion nodded again and put a hand to his helmet to start giving orders.

Sliver turned away to begin a march into the city, but then stopped. Two ponies were sitting on their haunches, quietly awaiting his attention: Poison Kiss and Mantis. He rested his siege hammer head-down on the deck, his visor lens glowering at the equines.

“What do you want?”

Mantis replied first. “My Lord, I petition you to accept the station’s wounded as well as our own and offer refuge to those who seek to abandon Ishrem,” he said, his voice grim but earnest.

“Why?” the hulking Astartes asked. There was a considerable crowd of residents that had regrouped after the Sisters had retreated, and they were currently being held at bay with a line of Iron Warriors with chainswords drawn. Some were clearly wounded and begging for aid, and others merely requested access to the docks, but the Astartes ignored them regardless.

“My original task was to seek new recruits among the lowest rabble aboard the station. However, when we broke into the underdeck slums, they had already been purged.” Mantis lowered his head and his ears pinned back, although his eyes didn’t soften at all. “These people have been harmed by the Imperium, and most are in workable condition. The cults and overseers can make use of them.”

“… Very well,” Sliver muttered after a brief pause. Then he lifted the hammer so that the head – nearly as big as a pony itself – hovered just millimeters from the stallion’s nose. “You will be ressponsible for sscreening the rabble, equine. I have had enough ssurprissess out of Isshrem and I will not tolerate sspiess aboard my fleet.”

“Of course, Lord. I will see to it,” Mantis bowed graciously and then backed away.

“And you?” Sliver asked, staring down at Poison Kiss. She had a box on her back, and as soon as he addressed her the unicorn levitated it up into the air.

“We found a nifty parasitic space bug! Want a gander?” she asked excitedly.

“Get out of my way,” Sliver snapped, advancing toward the settlement.

Kiss scrambled aside to clear his path, her head lowered and a slight whimper coming from her helmet.

“Maybe later,” Sliver mumbled to her while he stomped by.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Sub-level 1-D

Applejack grunted as bolter shells pounded against her side, carving away at the layers of ceramite. Another fragmentation grenade plummeted down among the gunfire and bounced off her back, only for a shimmering field of blue to wrap around it and then launch it back up. A few seconds later it exploded, sending shrapnel into the stairwell.

“Higher! Throw them HIGHER!!” Jerriha shouted, spraying fire from her pulse carbine before ducking under the stairwell.

“I CAN’T! There’s a range limit on this power, dear!” Rarity replied hotly while crouched behind Applejack. Her plasma gun whined as it fired a blast upward, but Rarity could barely see the target from her position.

Rainbow Dash was the only pony not huddled in a narrow blind spot on the ground floor, and she zipped up and down the shaft and circled the central column to remain evasive. Some of the Sisters of Battle chased her with bolter fire, but much to her frustration most were concentrating on her less mobile allies.

“We really need a way outta here! There’s more of ‘em up there all the time!” Applejack complained. “Ah say we head up the stairs and fight ‘em head on!”

“Negative! Hold position!” Jerriha shouted back.

“Ya don’t give me orders, gray!”

“Then consider it friendly tactical advice!” Jerriha launched a photon grenade from her carbine, and was rewarded when a blinding flash consumed the upper levels. “What does the Techpriest say?”

“Ah don’t know! Ah can’t get ahold of her! It’s jammed, remember?!”

“You were in contact before, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, n’ now Ah ain’t! Don’t ask me to explain how these gadgets work! Ah’m a farmer!”

“Hey, look!” Pinkie interrupted, her voice far too cheerful for the circumstances. “The door is unlocked!”

Jerriha pulled back into cover, immensely relieved. “So they restored life support after all!”

“I dunno. Maybe!” Pinkie replied, pointing a hoof over Applejack’s back. “I wasn’t talking about the escape tunnel! Look, the other door is opening!”

Pinkie was pointing across from where they were covering, at a blast door past their planned exit route. Jerriha did in fact remember that the indicator lumen next to it had been green when they’d arrived, and had then locked and turned red before the current assault started. It was starting to open, as Pinkie said, but the process was obnoxiously slow and the way through would leave them completely exposed to the enemies above.

The sound of tearing metal came from above, followed by the groan of it straining against the load of some four tons of armored troopers. Rainbow Dash zipped under the Sisters, spitting a cluster of shuriken into the support struts that kept that section of the stairwell suspended. The monomolecular blades shredded the much-abused metal, and one by one the rusted bolts securing the platform to the wall popped off. One of the Sisters jumped to the attached section as the metal gave way, but the others were too slow.

The platform collapsed, dropping and slamming into the platform below. Several struts and bolts immediately snapped off at the impact, and then that platform fell as well, creating a terrible cacophony when it finally crashed onto the bottom floor.

“Thanks Dash! I gottem!” Applejack said, immediately blasting the heap of twisted metal with her heavy flamer.

“Now! The doors! Go!” Jerriha shouted, sprinting across the room to the other side.

The door was barely four inches open by now, and the Fireblade wedged her shoulder into the gap to force it open wider. The machinery, rusted and creaking, gave way to her efforts with substantial resistance, and by the time Rarity reached her the opening was big enough for the Fireblade to pass through. Then Jerriha aimed her pulse carbine down the next hall, checking for threats before advancing.

A power sword swung down in front of her, slicing the pulse carbine in half and nearly taking a finger with it. The Fireblade jolted backward, and then immediately tripped over Rarity and fell backwards onto the deck. This utter failure of tactical coordination also left Rarity stunned for a crucial moment, and by the time she came to her senses Norris Delgan was pointing his blade a hair’s breadth from her forehead.

“Delgan!” the unicorn shouted happily, a tear in her eye. “You cannot IMAGINE how happy I am to see you!”

Delgan blinked, pulling his sword up. “Oh! My apologies, Miss Rarity. How unforgivably rash of me.” He lowered himself to one knee and offered a hand. “Can I help you up?” he asked, completely ignoring the alien hoof lying on top of her back.

“My weapon!! You half-blind ui’t!” Jerriha snarled, tossing the broken carbine away and rolling off of Rarity.

“Mhm. I suppose that was a mistake, but there was quite a ruckus coming from here and I couldn’t identify your voice.” Delgan shrugged and Rarity tenderly helped herself up with his assistance. “Now, then: there’s two squads of Sister Retributors snapping at our heels. Where is the most expedient exit?”

Before anyone could answer, a woman stepped through the doorway behind Delgan, laughing as she beheld Rarity and Applejack. “Oh, and these one have ARMOR! Delgan, dear, you really must introduce me to the rest of your xeno friends! I am FASCINATED!”

Captain Varya was a fairly large woman with broad shoulders and paunch that was partially hidden under an elaborate long coat. In one hand she held a pistol of unfamiliar design, and a power saber was sheathed at her hip. She was followed by two men and a pony: one of the men was clearly wounded, and the other one was Wyatt Daniels.

“Wyatt! Yer here!” Applejack said, perking up immediately. Pinkie bounced up onto her back and waved jubilantly.

“Yeah, hi, but seriously where is the-” he started to ask before a burst of bolter fire came from above. Delgan, Daniels, and Jerriha all dove for cover instinctively, while Varya craned her head upward to look.

Rainbow Dash spun in the air as mass-reactive bolts stitched across the wall behind her, and then the pegasus kicked off the central pillar to sail straight toward the remaining Sister of Battle. The woman tried to smash the butt of her boltgun into the oncoming pony, but Rainbow lifted her forelegs and fired her impulse blasters instead at the last moment. The Sister was flung hard into the wall, and her weapon tumbled out of her grip and off the deck.

Delgan leapt up with nearly inhuman agility and snatched the falling weapon out of the air. He flipped it around in his hand, and then held it out toward Jerriha handle-first.

“There you are. That resolves your weapon problem. Now: exit?”

Jerriha had a dozen scathing complaints at being offered such a gun, but buried them for a less dangerous moment. “Behind us. The hall should give us a quick path to the hangar. The problem is that it was depressurized and the Techpriest hasn’t come back or given an all-clear.”

Delgan looked over toward what appeared to be a bulkhead wall. “There?”

“Yes.”

The Trademaster skipped forward, his power sword sizzling as it stabbed through the armored barrier. Then he drew it back, leaving a small hole, and he narrowed his eyes. There was a very slight hiss as air was sucked into the next room to equalize the pressure, but it was weak.

“It’s fine. Probably. Miss Rarity!” he shouted, drawing back his power sword.

Rarity’s own power sword flashed to life as it activated its molecular disruption field, and then both blades sliced long, deep runs through the disguised bulkhead. Applejack charged forward as they drew their weapons back, and with a heavy grunt she smashed the doors open, breaking through into the tunnel.

“Looks like it has air to me! Go! Go!” Daniels shouted, shifting the load on his back. The mare that followed him in – also conspicuously carrying cargo on her back – rushed past him in a gallop, followed by the scowling bodyguard.

“Rainbow! Let’s go!” Rarity shouted while Delgan and Jerriha went through with their weapons brandished. Pinkie Pie galloped through right behind them, with Spike on her back.

Rainbow Dash twisted around in the air, whooping loudly while her thrusters swiveled about and rocketed her downward. She slid to one side to (barely) avoid smashing into Varya and then blasted into the hall, speeding ahead of the others.

Daniels hung back until everyone else was through, and then opened a panel next to the door. He pulled the manual override lever to activate the emergency shutters, and a creaking noise issued from the doorway. Then the lever snapped off and a few sparks sputtered from behind the panel.

“Khorne’s teeth, doesn’t anything on this station work right?!” the mercenary cursed before sprinting after the others. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the distant glint of crimson visor lenses moving through the dusty, dimly-lit corridors they were leaving behind.

“You weren’t complaining when we broke the security console’s data-wards with a spanner and a swift kick,” Varya laughed.

“So y’all wanna let us in on why ya were all together?” Applejack asked. “And what’s all that stuff yer carryin’?”

It was hard not to notice that out of the five individuals that had joined them, all but the bleeding, unknown man was carrying a sack or large case. The mare, Jewel Bracer, had several slung over her back like saddlebags, and Varya had a big bag hanging over one shoulder and partially tied around her wrist. Even Delgan had a slim case hanging from a shoulder strap that seemed like it held something more than his usual gear.

“After the fanatics announced themselves over the vox we had the good fortune to meet while seeking a route of retreat,” Delgan explained. “Unfortunately, in stopping to regroup and determine the best way back to the hangar, we ran into those Retributors. One of Miss Varya’s bodyguards, tragically, didn’t get to cover quickly enough and fell to heavy bolter fire.”

Captain Varya nodded somberly. “Aye, poor Rogik. He always was a little slow on his feet. Probably thought this job was mostly for show.”

“Aw, the poor guy!” Pinkie pouted. “What about all the cargo, though?”

“We happened to ‘regroup’ in the spice market, after the Imperials had already killed or chased away everyone there,” Jewel Bracer said, her tone suggesting she resented the turn of events.

“Wait a minute!” Rainbow shouted, immediately flying back down the hall toward the others and circling around them. “Isn’t that where they were selling drugs?! You looted the drugs?!”

“Ooh! Ooh! What kind? Can I see?!” Pinkie asked, bouncing along at the same pace of everyone else running.

“All of you, shut up,” Jerriha said suddenly, coming to a stop. “Something is wrong here.”

Jerriha walked up to an exceptionally haphazard-looking bulkhead plate and dropped to her knee, staring at the ground. The layer of rock dust blanketing the deck had been disturbed here, and in the middle of it was a metal cylinder. Both ends were open and lightly scorched, and a strange blur seemed to cloud the casing. Jerriha squinted at it and then stood back up.

“This is a stasis grenade,” she said grimly.

“A what? Stasis? What kind of explosion is stasis?” Rainbow asked.

“Time explosion,” Daniels replied.

“How does THAT work?”

“Nobody knows, frankly. But it does,” Delgan admitted. “Putting that aside, though: does anyone else hear air moving behind that broken metal plate? Is THAT what’s keeping this area pressurized?”

“No, let’s not put it aside,” the Fireblade retorted, pointing at the console across the hall. “That’s the control console. It’s working and undamaged. So where’s the Techpriest? And why would there be a stasis grenade here? It’s a bit advanced for this station, and even the Iron Warriors.”

“And where’s Twilight?” Spike asked. “Gaela might just leave without telling us if she had a good reason, but Twilight wouldn’t! She knew we were in trouble!”

“We’re not exactly out of trouble yet, kiddo,” Daniels said, his back against the wall and attention on the hall from where they came. “If we don’t pick up the pace those Retributors will be right on top of us!”

“I don’t think they’re chasing us anymore, actually,” Varya said, lifting a hand and cupping it behind her ear. “They’re not exactly the stealthy sort.”

The others were somewhat startled to realize that the Captain was right: without their own chatter or the sound of power-armored greaves pounding against the deck, the hallway was almost silent. Certainly the Sisters of Battle couldn’t be pursuing them at any useful rate without their own armor creating a great din throughout the interior.

“What in the blazes is going on here?” Delgan demanded, his mustache bristling over his scowl. “The Techpriest and the Princess have vanished, we have archaeotech devices cropping up in this broken-down hovel, and now the Sororitas have given up chasing down heretics and aliens over a mild jog?”

Applejack set her jaw. “Ah don’t rightly know what’s happenin’ but we ain’t gonna get no answers here. We got our exit, so let’s git!”

There was a sudden crackling noise from her vox, and Applejack stumbled to a stop. Rainbow Dash flinched as well, and Rarity perked up as a lumen on her collar indicated an incoming vox link. A moment later the link connected, and everyone present could hear a familiar voice come from Rarity’s gorget.

“Equinought Shquadron, do you copy Can you hear me?”

“Warsmith! You fixed the vox!” Rarity cheered.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Command deck 10-B

“Yesh, shomething like that,” Solon said while standing over a puddle of blood and shredded metal.

The Warsmith’s body was scorched and riddled with bolter impacts, and one of his legs had been cut off by a melta blast and was awkwardly tied down on his chassis so as to shift weight away from the corner where it was missing. Several mechatendrils were plugged into a master cogitator that dominated the wall of the command center, feeding data to the Chaos Lord and sending it back. Behind Solon, Dark Magos Kaelith carefully but rapidly disassembled the corpse of a fallen Techpriest, harvesting the cultist’s bionic components and stashing them away.

“Thank Celestia!” Rarity exulted. “You can contact the ship now, right? When will we receive reinforcements?”

“My Iron Warriorsh are already marching on the city, but I need to warn you that the Imperial forcesh are after you, Princessh!”

There was a long, slightly tense pause.

“Yeah, we know that already,” Rainbow Dash said.

“You did? Oh. Well, then you musht undershtand that you cannot allow yourshelf to fall into enemy handsh, Princessh!” Solon insisted. “I do not know what fate an Imperial Inquisitor could posshibly intend for you, but it ish likely quite short and invariably fatal.”

There was another stretch of silence, this time even more awkward.

“Why’re ya talkin’ about Twi like she’s listenin’ in?” Applejack asked. “Do ya know where she is?”

Solon lifted his hand, and a holo-screen appeared in front of him. “She can hear ush. Her vox shyshtem ish functional and life shupport indicatesh she’sh shtill alive. She ishn’t with you?”

“Naw, we had to split up fer a bit. She went with Gaela.”

“Why ish she non-reshponshive?”

“We don’t know. She was supposed t’be waitin’ here fer us, but she and Gaela ran off somewhere.”

Solon gestured with his hand, and the holo-screen’s display changed from a series of meters to several boxes of datascreed. He tapped one of them, and then waited for the icon to stop blinking.

“Techpriesht Gaela! Report!” Solon commanded. Kaelith looked up from his scavenging, his micro-saws and melta cutters withdrawing beneath his robes.

“Warsmith! I am currently in pursuit of an enemy unit. What do you wish to know?” Gaela asked.

“Where’sh Shparkle?” Solon demanded.

“With the enemy unit,” she replied grimly.

“What?! What happened?!” shouted Rainbow Dash. There was some other panicked shouting behind her that sounded like Spike, but the vox mostly filtered it out as background noise.

“My apologies, but this will have to wait for the debriefing. Lock onto my armor signum if you wish to assist, but I must not be distracted right now.”

The vox link was cut, and then an angry growl came from Rainbow Dash.

“I’m going after them!” the speedster shouted, the whine from her flight pack loud enough that Rarity’s vox receiver picked it up.

“Affirmative. The resht of you, proceed to the primary hangar and board the Harvesht with all shpeed,” Solon ordered.

“Wait! Shouldn’t we go help too?!” Applejack asked.

“You’re too far from her poshition. The Inquishitor intendsh to eshcape with Shparkle and likely hash an exit nearby. Reroute immediately.” Solon cut the vox link as Rarity started to protest.

“Vindication: I was correct in my analysis of the strategic outlook,” Kaelith chittered. “Prognosis: The Techpriest Gaela will fail and the equine will be secured by Imperial forces.”

“A likely outcome,” Solon grunted irritably, stomping awkwardly toward the door, “sho let’sh washte no more time. Come, we return to the Harvesht of Shteel and ready for purshuit.”

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Sub-level 1-M

Gaela’s footfalls echoed through the gloomy, empty halls of the tunnel, the crash of metal on metal shaking the dust that had settled on the deck. The trail of the enemy Techpriest stretched before her in small, light arcs caused by the swinging of its robes against the floor.

Curiously, Gaela could not yet identify the agent’s actual footprint type as she sprinted after it. 7229, which were the only comprehensible characters in her ident-register, clearly did not possess humanoid feet, cybernetic or otherwise, nor did she have the scuttling insect-like legs or serpentine tubing favored by many Techpriests with an advanced degree of cybernetic augmentation. The marks in the ground seemed to be short lines of some sort, but they were light enough that the tracks left by the robe badly distorted them.

Bizarrely, but luckily, Gaela was clearly gaining on the foe. She had to assume that the enemy Techpriest had not been prepared to haul something as heavy as Twilight was in full armor, and for that reason its gait was uneven and much slower than optimal. Gaela herself was feeling the strain of running for nearly 20 minutes straight, but pushed through the creeping exhaustion with bloody-minded stubbornness.

Ahead was a T-intersection, with the hall extending straight ahead while also branching off to the left. The trail led left, and her boot shrieked against the deck as she pivoted to follow. Almost immediately a searing blue ray of light struck her, carving a molten gouge across her shoulder and chest plate as she turned.

7229 lurched down the hall, her lower arms struggling to hold up the obnoxiously well-armored pony she had captured. One upper arm smoldered as it completed its firing cycle, and the other swiveled up into place while Gaela’s own servo laser charged.

+I will tear out your motive force and feed it to the xeno thralls,+ Gaela spat in a burst of static. Her heavy laser fired, a ray of brilliant red crossing the hallway.

7229 caught the blast on a projected barrier screen, the hex-grid energy form shuddering under the heat load. She kept moving the whole time, fighting to pick up the pace.

+Slave to a broken Machine God. Blinkered dog of the False Emperor,+ Gaela sped up even as smoke wafted from the damage to her armor. +There is no escape. I WILL break you.+ Her left arm crackled as the capacitors flooded the energizing chamber behind its wrist, and the tri-claws opened around the barrel of her ion blaster.

7229 did not respond. Just ahead was an intersection with a set of emergency blast doors. If she could not stop her pursuer there, at least temporarily, then the Dark Techpriest would follow her to the hidden shuttle hangar, if not overtake her entirely. Such a complication would be extremely detrimental to her mission objective.

Three shots from the ion cannon spat sparking bolts of white light down the hall. One struck the barrier extended by 7229’s hand, and the shield immediately overloaded and shattered. Another struck her in the back and was largely absorbed by the nano-circuit weave of the agent’s cloak. The last one struck her shielding hand, and it recoiled and shook painfully as the internal components cooked and arcs of plasma writhed around it. 7229 stumbled, almost dropping Twilight on the deck, and then sprinted forward yet again.

She detected footfalls approaching the intersection ahead, and 7229 updated the tactical prognosis as four Sisters of Battle ran in front of her. They were clearly moving to escape via the same route she was taking, but each one stumbled to a halt and brandished their boltgun at the sight of the Techpriest. None of them fired, however, and one perked as she spotted the black-robed figure in pursuit.

“Traitor! Show them the Emperor’s judgment, Sisters!” she roared, jumping to the side and firing a burst at the Dark Techpriest. The mass-reactive bolts struck Gaela’s leg and shoulder, cratering the ceramite plating and staggering her.

7229 didn’t waste time trying to organize a firing line. The moment she crossed into the intersection a mechadendrite snaked out toward the door control panel and stabbed into a data socket. In the blink of an eye the emergency override had been engaged, and the blast doors dropped shut. Before the dust settled the cogitator had been wiped clean and its control matrix crippled, rendering the device useless.

“What is this? What’s going on here?” demanded one of the women, gesturing to the armored pony in 7229’s arms.

“This is an agent of the Inquisitor,” another of the Sisters said, her voice hesitant and her weapon held close. “Our standing orders are to assist if necessary.”

“EXECUTIVE: ASSISTANCE REQUIRED,” 7229 responded, looming over the Sororitas. “OBJECTIVE PRIORITUS: ABSOLUTE. YOU ARE TO ELIMINATE THE ENEMY UNIT IN PURSUIT AND SECURE PATH OF RETREAT.”

“Well, why did you close the door, then?” asked another one of the soldiers irritably. “We can’t kill the traitor if we can’t get to it, can we?”

A sharp crack came from the blast door as the blade of a power axe suddenly breached the barrier to the other side. The Sisters recoiled, immediately brandishing their weapons at the blazing arc of fiery red that was wedged in the metal. After another moment it was wrenched free of the breach and pulled back.

“PROGNOSIS: CONTACT IMMINENT.” 7229 calmly walked across the intersection, still cradling the pony in her arms. “HOLD POSITION AND DESTROY ALL ENEMY UNITS.”

The axe ripped through the door again, forming a second tear in the thick, armored metal.

“We have orders to withdraw,” pointed out a Sister, glowering at the Techpriest’s back.

“PRIORITUS: ABSOLUTE,” 7229 replied curtly, stepping past the next doorway.

Then her mechadendrite plugged into that door’s cogitator as well. Another emergency blast door slammed down into place behind the Sisters, and one of them whirled around. Again the power axe punched a breach through the first door and was withdrawn.

“Hey! HEY!! That… thing just trapped us in here!” the Sister raged, running over and slamming a fist onto the plating.

“Steady yourself, Sister. We have our orders,” said another, calmly watching the next axe breach.

“Our orders were to retreat to the hangar!” she retorted. “How will we get there now? The other entry tunnel is halfway across the station!”

“We have new orders now. Patience, Sister. The blood of the corrupt shall soon cleanse this rot.” She pounded a fist against her breastplate. “Should we be martyrs in service to this mission it is the Emperor’s will, and I will relish the fulfilment of our destiny.”

The agitated soldier did not seem mollified, but she turned around to watch as another axe strike punched through the blast door. The breaches were starting to form a rough circle now, slicing through enough of the heavy armor that it was conceivable a large enough piece of it could be ripped out somehow. The Sisters grimly prepared to intercept the assailant, spreading out and aiming their weapons. One of them possessed a chainsword and bolt pistol rather than the standard boltgun, and her chainsword rumbled to life as she squeezed the activation grip.

A few seconds passed. There was no new breach of the blast door, impact, or other obvious tampering that suggested it was in danger of being breached. The Sisters of Battle glanced at each other.

“Did you scare it off?”

“Craven as these filthy wretches are, I would not expect them to be frightened off by the mere sound of a chainsword. This is a ploy.”

“Wait… I hear something else… is that… a missile?”

A scream of “RAINBOW BUSTER!!” boomed through the halls, and then the blast door exploded in a flash of light.

Rainbow burst through the door and immediately swiveled about in the air, making a sharp left and slamming face-plate-first into a Sororitas shoulder pad. The soldier was bowled over onto her back, and Rainbow bounced off and skidded across the wall, her momentum bleeding away on a wave of hot sparks. The other Sisters flinched away, their line of fire obscured by an inexplicably colorful light flare and numerous hunks of shredded metal.

A pair of ion bolts sailed through the breach, striking the Sister with a chainsword. Writhing webs of ionic plasma lashed across her armor, and nearly every mechanism burnt out in an eye blink before she fell to the deck in a smoldering heap. The soldier next to her fired back into the door, her boltgun knocking Gaela back as she tried to get through.

“Kill the traitor!” roared the woman as she fired shot after shot into the hole, hammering the Acolyte’s armor. “Heretic to the Emperor, slave to darkness! I will grant you the mercy of fire and steel!!”

A bolter burst came from behind her, and she jolted forward. Damage displays flashed across her visor as her power backpack was ruptured, and then another mass-reactive round struck the back of her helmet, failing to penetrate but staggering her. Her vision spun and she fell to one knee.

Gaela finally pushed through into the intersection, sparks bleeding from her ion blaster arm (in addition to a fair amount of actual blood). The Sister on the ground raised her bolter again, pushing through the haze of pain and confusion, but Gaela’s servo laser speared through her arm. The gun fell from numb fingers, clattering to the deck with smoke still seeping from its barrel. Then Gaela was in front of her, the power axe swinging in a decapitating arc.

Rainbow Dash blinked rapidly, her vision spinning after crashing to the deck. Pushing herself up, she blink-clicked away the various warning runes on her visor, and then started to turn around. Then a mass-reactive round struck her rear, blasting open the outer shell and pitching her onto her side again.

A Sister of Battle was standing up behind her, but rather than turn Rainbow tilted her greaves at an angle against the floor. Her impulse blasters fired, and the pegasus was launched backward through the air, slamming into the armored woman. The Sister staggered backward, the boltgun tumbling from her grip.

Incredibly, however, she didn’t fall. Rainbow tried to jet away, but the Sister grabbed onto one of her horns, pulling the pony sharply to the side. Her wings and flight pack responded by reflex, and Rainbow wailed as she hurtled face-first into the blast door. Yet another crack sliced through her visor, and the wind was blown out of her at the impact.

The sister smashed a knee into Rainbow’s side, the crash of ceramite plates doing little damage but throwing the pegasus to the deck. Then she planted a boot on Rainbow’s leg while drawing her combat knife.

Rainbow Dash’s shuriken catapult swiveled and fired, desperately spraying deadly blades across the wall as it failed to get an angle on the human soldier. The Sister lowered herself and drove her combat knife into Rainbow’s belly, the mono-molecular edge breaking through the thinner plating on the armor’s underside. Rainbow Dash gasped in agony, her visor flashing another needless damage warning before her blurring vision.

The Sister drew the blade out, and then seized Rainbow’s helmet again with her free hand. She wrenched it to the side, exposing the rubberized sheath and cabling that protected the equine’s neck. An oath came to her lips, but it faltered at the noisy crackle of a power axe behind her.

The zealot’s reflexes were just barely too slow, and a single blazing red arc ripped through shoulder and gorget. Blood sloshed across the width of the hallway, and then the body keeled over onto the puddle.

Gaela stood over the corpse for a moment, breath heaving as her axe arm lifted the weapon up onto her shoulder. Then she swiveled on her heel, ion blaster extended and already humming to aim at the last of the Sisters.

The Battle Sister was standing at the other end of the intersection, with her arms up and palms open in surrender. Her weapon was nowhere in sight. Gaela held her aim for a few seconds, and then she lowered her ion blaster.

“Your visor. It’s not green like they usually are,” Gaela noted, her breathing still difficult as she trudged over to the blast door.

“The helmet’s real this time. Stole it from the lady I’m copying. The other psychopaths shout orders and information into it sometimes, so it’s helpful,” Chrysalis said, slowly lowering her arms. “You completely blew my cover, you know.”

“Tactical necessity,” Gaela hissed as she fed her mechadendrites into the blast door cogitator.

Chrysalis stared dubiously at the floor behind the Dark Acolyte. Her armor was leaving a trail of blood behind her in a quantity that suggested a serious wound. The breastplate of her power armor was a mangled mess, carved and cratered by incoming fire, and one of her legs was moving with a slight limp. A glance down the hall at Rainbow Dash revealed the pegasus was doing even worse. She was gasping painfully and trying to stand, her legs quivering. The power armor should have made the effort trivial, but the pegasus was still struggling.

“Twi,” Rainbow whispered through clenched teeth, “hold on, mare… we’re… we’re coming…”

“GAH!” Gaela ripped her mechadendrite out of the socket, shouting in frustration. The engine’s machine spirit had been completely purged. The device was useless. “Cut open the door.”

“What?” Chrysalis asked.

Gaela pounded her tri-claw against the blast door. “CHANGE FORMS TO SOMETHING WITH A MELTA CUTTER AND BURN AN OPENING IN THIS DOOR,” she demanded, her vox booming the command.

“You don’t sound like you’re in any shape to pursue the enemy further,” Chrysalis suggested.

“Lungs are replaceable,” she huffed, the strain getting noticeably worse. “Where my flesh… fails, the machine… shall endure. OPEN… THE… DOOR.”

Chrysalis saw an icon appear on her visor, and then her helmet’s vox connected to a priority signum.

“All units, this is Inquisitor Gholth. Our mission is complete. The target has been secured and we are departing Ishrem immediately,” came the voice of the Inquisitor. “To those still trapped on the station, we cannot recover you without risking the mission objective. Sell your lives dearly, and let the traitors know the Imperium’s wrath! Your eternal place by the Emperor’s side awaits you.”

The vox connection was cut, and the signum vanished. Chrysalis sighed and pulled off her helmet. She spent a moment staring at its bright red visor lenses, and then tossed it aside with a sniff.

“It’s over. They escaped. We’ve lost,” the changeling queen said matter-of-factly.

Gaela fell to one knee, the impact of ceramite on the steel deck plating ringing through the halls. “… We return to the Harvest. This is not over.”

The Dark Acolyte stood up again, the micro-servomotors of her armor straining loud enough for the others to hear. She took a step forward, using her axe as a support, her breath rasping through the grille of her helmet. Rainbow Dash slowly activated her flight pack and floated up above the floor for a few seconds before her muscles clenched from the pain. She dropped to the deck again, her armor rattling noisily.

“You’re pathetic,” Chrysalis spat as her eyes flashed green. A brilliant magical aura surrounded her, and her body started to swell considerably while still keeping the heavy, rounded contours of a suit of power armor. When the magic glow receded, the changeling had taken the form of an Iron Warrior again, and she promptly seized Gaela and lifted the Dark Acolyte over her (bulbous and misshapen) shoulder pad.

Gaela grunted at the rough handling, and then sucked in enough air to speak. “The route behind you… take that path… keep taking right turns when you can.”

“Sure,” the changeling mumbled, reaching down with her other arm and picking up Rainbow Dash.

“H-Hey! W… Watch it…” Rainbow complained as the shape-shifter started running.

“Shut up,” Chrysalis hissed, keeping her pace. “Why is it that if someone needs a gun or engine fixed you have hundreds of cloaked weirdos to do it but there are only a handful who can do anything if someone gets stabbed?”

“I can’t believe this…” Rainbow groaned weakly. “Twilight… I’m-” She coughed painfully, her helmet systems sucking up the blood drooling into her vox. “… I couldn’t do it… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize to the brat who got herself captured! Apologize to ME for having to haul your stupid metal flank home!” Chrysalis snapped.

“On that… topic,” Gaela replied, pain surging around every word, “try… to hold her upside down. She’ll bleed… more slowly.”

“I’ll wait for her to pass out first,” Chrysalis retorted.

“Hate… you…” the pegasus gasped.

Harvest of Steel
Bridge

“The other vessels are beginning dock release procedures. Reactors are hot. “

“Where is the enemy? We still haven’t obtained augur lock. Are they still on station?”

“Keep up the search in the space around Ishrem. Particularly the waste pools. It will be nigh impossible to find anything that escapes into the asteroid field.”

“Is this really all for that purple pony? What could the loyalist dogs possibly want with her other than a swift execution?”

The Warpsmiths on the bridge of the Harvest convened with each other while several holo-screens tracked the flagship’s status. Names, cargo, injuries, and data updates were rapidly added and registered as the logistic machinery of the fleet went to work. The tech-cultists on the bridge had a limited idea of what was happening on the station since vox contact was impaired, but they had been advised that the Imperials were present and in retreat.

One of the mummy-like crew moaned, the cables around her quivering. “The Harvest… her agitation grows.” A few of the Iron Warriors glanced up at her, but they didn’t respond.

“The Warsmith has boarded,” announced a Warpsmith, the snake-like tendrils on his back twitching. “Stand by for new orders.”

A holo-screen flickered into place, and a new tide of data-screed started pouring across it. Vox connections began linking across it. First Solon, then Sliver, then the Captains of the other vessels.

“Report! Have you located the eshcaping Imperialsh?!” Solon demanded.

“Negative. The fleet is repositioning to intercept any deployments from Ishrem,” one of the Iron Warriors droned. “Should they be detected, I presume boarding will be the primary stratagem?”

A growl came from Sliver’s vox line. “Their vessselss have already departed the sstation,” he spat.

The Warpsmiths looked up hesitantly. “We have not detected their presence, Lord Sliver. Are you certain?”

“Chryshalish hash jusht boarded. She confirmed that the enemy hash abandoned Ishrem and eshcaped with Shparkle!” Solon said tightly. “There ish no way the Inquishitor ish hiding on the Shtation waiting for ush to leave! The transhportsh musht have shnuck away already!”

A warning lumen flashed on a nearby console, and one of the Warpsmiths quickly started tapping away at the controls. “Stabilize! The Harvest of Steel is attempting to withdraw the assault tendrils! Loading is not complete!”

“The Harvest… yearns,” groaned one of the crew. “I… I do not understand. She seeks… something… the voice! THE VOICE!”

“Silence that one,” grunted a Warpsmith.

“No! Wait!” Solon commanded. “Initiate command module extush 7. Let the Harvesht map a navigational route.”

One of the Iron Warriors moved to comply, while another stared at the holo-screen uncertainly. “You wish the ship to pilot itself, Lord?”

“The vesshel ish fashcinated with the Princessh. I’m not completely shure why,” Solon admitted. “It hash many shenshesh that defy shimple classhification or ushable interfacesh. Where doesh she want to go?”

Another display appeared showing a scale graphic with the ships and Ishrem and tracing a route with a red line. It curved sharply around the station, but then followed a straight path into the asteroid field, where it stopped.

“There! She musht shenshe Shparkle there!” Solon said.

“The Imperialss have ssurely esscaped through the assteroid field on boarding shuttless,” Sliver reasoned. “Either equipped with sstealth ssysstemss or following the disscarded mining detrituss around the sstation. There musst be a vesssel nearby to receive them.”

“This route takes us directly through the thickest part of the asteroid field. Fighter craft and shuttles could make it, but there is no viable path for a capital ship,” complained a Warpsmith. “I’m tracking at least four impediment bodies with similar mass to the flagship. We will have to go around.”

“No,” Sliver replied. “Connect uss to the mining crewss and patrol craft that ssurround Ishrem.”

There was another pause of uncertainty, but then the Warpsmiths went to work. The crude and often-malfunctioning comms systems of the patrol fighters were found and linked one by one, and much vox traffic from confused and nervous pilots started coming in through the connection. Once all the links were established, the Warpsmith emitted a sharp buzz of Binaric Cant to signal the Chaos Lords.

“To all patrol and indusstrial craft of Issshrem,” Sliver intoned, his slurred speech dragging out the station’s name, “Thiss iss Lord Ssliver of the 38th Company Iron Warriorss. Your home has been infiltrated and compromissed by the sslavess of the Falsse Emperor. The Imperium knowss you are here, and hass sslaughtered your neighborss.”

There was some low chatter after this claim, but the vox system kept it subdued while Sliver continued. “We have driven the killerss from Isshrem, but it iss only a matter of time until the Imperial war machine returnss to cleansse thiss place of disssident ssoulss. Insstead, I offer you ssanctuary within our fleet. We shall grant you sservice at fair wage, and the opportunity to sstrike back againsst the cowardss who masssacred your people.”

The Warpsmiths all looked at each other silently. One of the desiccated crew members started giggling insanely.

“Thosse who would join uss, take formation before the Harvesst of Ssteel and await combat orderss. I…” at this he paused, coughing lightly as he considered his next words. “… thank you for your cooperation.”

A Warpsmith quickly re-routed the vox links, severing communication to the patrol craft and linking them to a separate command node. “We will have a combat assessment immediately, Lord. With the ordnance the patrol craft have on hand, we should be able to break the largest asteroids and plot a feasible route through the field… assuming the Harvest has the right bearing, of course.”

“Do it. Began withdrawal proceduress,” Sliver commanded. “Any sstill on Isshrem can be recovered after we’ve dealt with thesse sscum.”

Solon was silent for a long moment, and then he somewhat timidly asked, “Did you jusht sholve a tactical problem with friendship?”

“No,” Sliver replied curtly.

“You appealed to their pershonal concernsh and offered them aid and profit and even thanked them,” the Warsmith pointed out.

Sliver’s vox link suddenly terminated, cutting him off from further discussion.

“… Huh. All right, well, tell the resht of the fleet to take poshition behind the Harvesht of Shteel for the advance and break formation once we’re out of the ashteroid field. We have only one more chance at thish!”

“Of course, Warsmith. The Harvest has the scent.”

Aesir’s Justice
Inquisition battlecruiser
Main hangar

Palatine Arthwin stomped down the embarkation ramp of the shuttle and promptly fell to one knee, raising a hand with her palm held vertical and speaking a prayer in a rapturous, droning cadence. The Battle Sisters behind her stopped and brought their hands together, bowing their heads in silence. The other soldiers of the Sororitas in the hangar joined them, the entire room coming together, unbidden, in solemn ceremony.

“May the souls of our fallen find their place by the Emperor’s side, martyrs all,” Arthwin said, her voice grim. “May they take solace in our victory this day. The price is paid, as ever, in the blood of the righteous.”

“Victory, is it? Then you bring good news to go with this lament for the dead? There was no vox contact other than the submission of your boarding authorization.”

A man was walking across the hangar to meet them, followed by a retinue of Battle Sisters and attendants. He looked to be in his thirties, had minimal bionic augmentation, and sported the Inquisitorial symbol on the breast of his coat. Additional badges and symbols, more subtle and obscure to those who did not work with Inquisitorial agents, marked the man as an apprentice Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus.

Arthwin slowly stood up, staring ahead without meeting the man’s eyes directly. “The objective was completed. For what it’s worth. The cost was substantial.”

“How bad?”

“Forty-four Sisters are confirmed slain or unaccounted for. Including the Sister Dogmata,” Arthwin answered. “We could not recover their bodies or confirm the fates of the others once Inquisitor Gholth gave the order to withdraw. While we sing the praises of the martyrs, their sacrifice sits uneasily beside this mission’s apparent prize.”

The man frowned deeply, turning to stare at a different shuttle that was only now lowering its embarkation ramp. “And what has been gained by this, exactly? I am surprised that the mission was a success, given its… opaque objective.”

“You will see soon enough,” Arthwin replied, sounding like she wanted to spit.

Inquisitor Gholth descended the ramp slowly, staring intently at a helmet. The shape of the headpiece was bizarre, at least to the apprentice; it had an extended vox well, somewhat similar to the “beak” posses by some older patterns of Astartes helmets but clearly different in its design. There was also a spike extended from the forehead that did not look to be ornamental. Finally, it was painted in colors that he immediately recognized as favored by a heretic Legion. A trophy, perhaps? But could such a thing really be what Gholth was looking for?

That idea was put to rest when more troops came from the shuttle. Two Battle Sisters were carrying a metal plate, and on that makeshift stretcher was Twilight Sparkle. Her helmet had been removed, of course, and her dark purple mane was splayed out across the edge of the plate along with a trickle of drool. The rest of her armor was intact, and everyone new to the creature immediately spotted the crucial symbol that had drawn the Inquisitor to this place to begin with.

The apprentice was utterly baffled. He stared at the alien, then up at Gholth. “And what, Emperor help us, is THAT?”

“THAT is the fruit of our vigilance,” Gholth said, an unmistakable note of smugness in his tone. “Our newest weapon against the ever-encroaching darkness of the Archenemy.”

“It’s an alien!” the younger man retorted hotly.

“It’s a horse,” Gholth corrected. “An… unusual horse, obviously, but the equinoid resemblance is unmistakable.”

“It’s wearing heretic armor and has mutated a horn! Is this thing part of their army? Did you kidnap a Chaos-worshiping xeno-beast under the mad idea it will help us somehow?”

“Apprentice Regil, this outburst is most unseemly,” Gholth said, his countenance changing considerably. “As your master is a sponsor of this operation, you are privileged to inquire as to my findings, but not by shouting your concerns on the hangar deck. You will comport yourself appropriately, and then you will see to the accommodation of the prisoner.”

Regil stared at the older man as he was dressed down, visibly struggling to calm himself but ultimately succeeding. “What is it this… creature requires, Lord Inquisitor?”

“It shall be taken first to the machining shrine. Carefully remove the armor and have a haywire peg attached to that optical augmetic; I do not recognize the pattern and we needn’t take more risks here,” Gholth commanded, walking past the apprentice and his retinue. “Seal away the armor in the ship’s vault. After that, it is to be fitted with a psychic repressor and restrained in the medicae. It will undergo a full non-invasive physical examination. Also check for any ill side effects from the sedative or signs of Warp corruption.”

“Psychic repressor? The blasted animal is a witch, too?” Regil complained, clenching his teeth and running a hand through his hair.

Gholth stopped in his tracks, and then looked back at the others. “It is to be under full guard at all times. Ten soldiers, around the cycle. It is not to be harmed under ANY circumstances. The moment it regains consciousness, I will attend to it personally. If it bears so much as a bruise, the culprit will be executed for defiance of direct orders and dereliction of duty. Is that clear?” His gaze shifted to meet that of the Palatine as he emphasized the last word.

“Of course, Lord Inquisitor,” Arthwin drawled. “As you wish.”

Gholth began to turn around, but an alarm klaxon suddenly rang out from above. He whipped back around to check on Twilight, and then felt some small relief at seeing the purple equine release a light snore.

”Contacts detected off to port! All hands, to battle stations! This is not a drill! I repeat, ALL HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS!!”

Gholth felt a chill crawl down his back. “They found us? So quickly? But…”

Regil touched the vox-bead implanted above his ear. “Captain, report. What is the exact situation?” Gholth quickly adjusted the augmetic array on his head, linking his vox to the comms channel as well.

“Looks like we’ve got something coming at us through the asteroid field,” growled a woman’s voice on the other end.

“They followed the shuttles? I thought your stealth fields would have let you get through the field easily with so much detritus around,” Regil muttered.

“Impossible. They would have been picked up before now if they were close enough to track us,” Gholth retorted. “What is the enemy formation? How many fighters and bombers?”

“Oh, they’ve got something much bigger coming for us,” grunted the Captain. “I’m watching the largest rocks between us and the filthy smuggler’s den break apart from those meteor melter bombs. They’re clearing a path for more than just strike craft. Can’t quite tell what, between the asteroids and the explosions.”

Regil nodded. “Turn to port and meet the enemy directly. With such a narrow approach vector a torpedo salvo-”

Gholth was pale as he interrupted the younger man. “Belay that order, Captain! Hard starboard turn! Accelerate away from the asteroid field and prepare for an emergency Warp jump!”

“We’re running, then?” the Captain asked. Palatine Arthwin scowled.

“We are being pursued by Astartes renegades, not mere pirates or xenos scavengers!” Gholth barked, jabbing a finger at Regil. “Refuse ALL incoming data transmissions until we’ve left this place and maximize rear void shields! Regil, get the creature secured! We must leave NOW!”

“All hands, secure your stations! We are beginning an expedited Warp entry! All hands, prepare for Warp jump!”

Harvest of Steel
Medicae bay 2-7 C

“Assault crews, report to boarding cells. All teams, prepare for contact. May the dark gods bless your steel and the blood of the righteous spill across the stars! IRON WITHIN! IRON WITHOUT!”

Claret Heartthrob glanced up at the vox caster in irritation, levitating a towel up to her forehead to wipe away the sweat. “Lovely. More imminent patients. And here I thought this landing would be SLOW for the medicae. Oh, that’ll teach me to hope.”

Rainbow Dash lay on the surgery table in front of the unicorn while unconscious, stripped of her armor, and strapped into an oxygen mask. A pair of servo-forceps held open a deep gash in her underside, and a nano-stitcher was carefully needling against the side of a scalpel to get deeper into the wound. Claret’s coat – both her outfit and the layer of hair underneath it – were already stained liberally with blood, and there were several bodies laying on nearby tables awaiting treatment. Behind her a Dark Techpriest was working on his own row of patients, starting with a deep surgery in Gaela’s chest cavity.

The door to the bay slid open, and then Claret shouted in response without looking. “If you’re bleeding, get the servitor to wrap it! If you need more than that there’s a queue!”

Rarity looked terribly embarrassed while she stepped through the door, visibly averting her eyes from the injured or the patches of horrid fluids splashed across the deck. “I’m very sorry Doctor, I know you’re QUITE busy, but Applejack wants to know if she can have medical clearance to join the imminent assault.”

“Good on her for asking,” Claret opined, leaning her head at an angle to get a better view of the wound while she worked. “What happened to her on the station that she felt the need to request clearance rather than just running onto the enemy’s blades like this idiot?”

“Uh… well, there were a few… bolter impacts about the shoulders. A grenade. Here and there,” Rarity admitted, wincing. “I wasn’t able to repel them all, unfortunately. Nothing that left much of a dent in her armor, I think.”

“Mmmm,” Claret responded, digging the scalpel a little further into the mess of shredded meat.

“… Also a bomb to the face,” Rarity added, speaking quickly and quietly.

“Find her and tell her to get in line,” Claret commanded. “No deployments.”

Rarity frowned at the other unicorn. “You know, our best friend WAS just captured by religious fanatics.”

“You know, your OTHER friend is having her kidney sewn back together,” the pony doctor retorted blandly. “After this I’m going to have to set a skull fracture, too. All those concussions add up, you know.”

Rarity shuddered at the description. Then the deck itself shuddered, and loud creaking noises rolled through the ship. Claret briefly paused in her work to wait until the shaking stopped. Rarity looked up at the bulkheads in concern as the lumens flickered off and on briefly.

“Another asteroid impact,” Claret said conversationally before gently angling the nano-stitcher again, “lovely idea to run the biggest ship in the area through a veritable ocean of rocks. Seems like a bad plan to me, but what do I know, I just fix organs for a living.”

Rarity sighed. “I suppose Fluttershy should stay behind too, then.”

“Damage?”

“Bolt round to the helmet. It deflec-”

“Line,” Claret interrupted, wiping her sweat again as she withdrew her tools from Rainbow’s body.

“Right. Just as well, I think.” The Equinought pursed her lips anxiously. “Also, there’s a… a giant cat, too.”

“WHAT?”

“It’s kind of a long story, actually,” Rarity’s mane sagged wearily as she recalled the debacle at the slaver’s market. “The upshot is that there’s a giant alien cat on board and it has a rather ugly-looking chest wound. Line?”

“No! NOT line! I’m not a veterinarian! Keep it out of the line!”

“We have breached the main body of the asteroid field!” boomed a voice from the vox caster. “All batteries, fire at will! Boarding shuttles and boarding torpedoes, count down to launch! Stop them here!”

Harvest of Steel
Bridge

“The fleet is accelerating to attack position, Lord Warpsmith! Prow weapons firing for effect!”

On the main screen hanging over the bridge crew, enormous shells and slashing darts of energy rocketed through the void ahead. Each weapon spent its power burning against the shadowy barrier around the battlecruiser’s rear, desperately hammering away in the hopes of scarring the mighty engines beneath.

Solon nodded sharply. “Good. Ash shoon ash their void shieldsh are down, activate the teleportarium and the grav beamer. Full deceleration!”

“A vessel of that tonnage cannot be stopped fully by the grav beamer,” warned a Warpsmith, his hands tapping away at several holo-screens at once.

“Overcharge the hypomantic relaysh. Dishengage our void shieldsh and ushe the excessh power to feed it,” Solon commanded, his grip on the edge of the command console tightening.

The Warpsmiths shared an uncertain glance.

“I will NOT let that shcum eshcape with my…” here Solon seemed to struggle for the right word, eventually revising to “with her. Keep shubmitting hailing codesh in cashe they shlip and accept the shcrapcode data-plague. Launch boarding torpedoesh and shuttlesh!”

“The Empyrean! The WARP! That twisted realm of pain and darkness beckons!” howled one of the entombed crew, struggling as if he was being choked. “The immaterium bleeds, offering sanctuary to the hated foe!”

“The enemy is initiating an emergency Warp jump! We’re detecting a breach!” announced a Warpsmith slightly less cryptically.

“Fire! FIRE! Get thoshe shieldsh down!” Solon demanded.

“Boarding torpedoes have target lock! 30,000 meter mark! Impact in… five… four… three…”

On the main screen a huge, swirling bloom of purple spilled across the void in front of the Imperial battlecruiser. Its engines flared, and the massive warship surged forward into the breach as clouds of ethereal mist washed across the hull. Solon’s grip on the edge of the console tightened even further, the metal slowly folding inward under the pressure.

“… Two…” the Warpsmith giving the count mumbled, his disappointment evident as the enemy ship vanished into the shimmering cross-dimensional rift.

In an instant, the breach in space-time collapsed to a pinpoint and then winked away in a gleam of light. The boarding torpedoes sailed forward into the inky, starlit void, their guidance units failing and engines stuttering. The boarding shuttles, barely having reached the Harvest’s bow, turned away to return to the hangar.

Solon’s smokestacks blasted jets of hot ash into the air and he lifted his fist above his head, preparing to smash the console before him.

“The Harvest…” moaned one of the mummified crew, “she… mourns.” A creaking groan rolled through the ship, echoing from the bulkheads. The enormous eye in the ceiling of the bridge squinted, and the cabling that surrounded it like a spider’s web quivered.

Solon slowly lowered his arm, unclenching his fist. “… Recover the boarding torpedoesh. Plot a courshe back around and re-enter the Ishrem docksh. The Princessh ish… losht.”

Author's Note

Omnissiah preserve me, that was way too long.
I was tempted to divide it, but the best part to do that was probably right after Twilight was taken, and I didn't want to leave everyone on a cliffhangar for so long as to whether the Imperials would get away with her :trixieshiftright:
So now you just have to wait to learn what the hay all this was about! :raritydespair:
Chapter art by BlazingStred. Thanks, Stred!

Chosen

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 16
Chosen

Inquisition battlecruiser Aesir’s Justice
Medicae ward 4-A
WARNING: Beta-level quarantine in effect
Authorization Codex 7712.031-I

Twilight’s jaw stretched into a wide yawn as her eye fluttered open. The dim lumens of the medicae ward gradually brought the space above her into focus, and she blinked sleepily as she beheld a large rotary disk mounted on the ceiling with numerous servo arms attached to the circumference. The mechanical arms ended in various needles, blades, pincers, and the odd (unnecessarily large) saw blade, and some of those arms were currently positioned over and around her. Each of her legs was held firmly in place by padded clamps, elevated above her body while she rested on her back. Her wings were likewise pinned in place against the surface of the examination bed she found herself on, with large, soft pads attached to heavy metal pincers. It was not a comfortable position, but it wasn’t painful, either.

Twilight slowly rolled her head left, and then right. On the right side she could see the back of what was obviously a Techpriest. It had a servo arm mounted over one shoulder and numerous cables emerged from its peaked hood and wound down into some kind of device on its back. It’s robes were a deep red though, which Twilight found unusual and quite pretty.

Blinking her eye blearily, she tried to recall what the red robe signified. She was sure she’d seen it somewhere before, but it escaped her sleep-addled mind. Licking her lips, she was suddenly overcome by how thirsty she was, and she released a spontaneous cough.

The Techpriest froze, turning slightly to regard a bright green monitor. Then it slowly turned around fully to face her. Optics lights of bright blue gleamed from beneath the right side of the cultist’s hood, and the biological eye on the other side met Twilight’s gaze with some visible trepidation.

“Good morning,” Twilight said, her tone polite if not cheerful, “may I have some water, please? I’m really parched.”

The Techpriest slowly approached the bedside, his movements deliberately over-cautious. Twilight thought that was bizarre, but maybe he was just being careful due to all the machinery around. This medicae room was smaller and was a more crowded than Twilight was familiar with. When he reached the bedside, he drew a small tube from somewhere beneath the table, and then held it up over Twilight’s nose.

Twilight frowned. “Can I have a cup? I don’t-”

The Techpriest stuck the tube in her mouth while she was speaking, and Twilight’s ears pinned back in annoyance as the cultist quickly backed away and then twisted a dial. The Techpriest scurried back to the console, chittering quietly with a series of beeping noises and refusing to look upon his patient further. Water started trickling through the tube at a gentle pace, and the young Princess quietly drank up while observing the room some more.

The room was… odd, somehow. Like all ponies she had grown up without much exposure to heavy machinery and the thrumming, hyper-industrial constructs of the Mechanicus, much less the sorts of architecture that supported void travel. Twilight still felt some degree of wonder every time she entered a room that had been crafted entirely from human industry, and marveled at the small but meaningful differences in each type. The extractium outposts of the Dark Mechanicus differed from the barracks of Ferrous Dominus, which were quite different from the decks of the Harvest of Steel, which were quite different from the decaying shell of Ishrem station. This one too seemed different from the other medicae wards she’d visited in various subtle ways. It was cleaner, for one thing. While the 38th Company employed menials and worker servitors to clean the ships and Claret Heartthrob was very diligent about disinfecting her workspace, the stains of blood and decay seemed impossible to eliminate completely. There were also less jagged blades among the surgical tools, which she broadly approved of. Finally, there were fewer skulls. Not zero skulls, which she would have considered ideal, but she could only spot two from her vantage point.

About at this point, Twilight realized something was wrong: her optical augment wasn’t working. Usually it booted up when she awoke, but she could only see out of her right eye at present. She tried to blink her left eye, which was – generally speaking – the main nerve activation that controlled it. There was no response, which started to worry her.

Twilight shifted the water tube to the side of her jaw so she could speak relatively unobstructed. “Excuse me, Techpriest! Hi! Can I ask your name?”

The Techpriest again seemed to freeze up, and several second passed as if he was deliberating on such a simple and petty request. “Negative,” he finally said, turning just enough so that the light of his optics glimmered from around the edge of his hood. “Interaction with subject Alpha-003 is restricted.”

“Charming as always,” Twilight said sourly. “Fine, I guess ‘Techpriest’ is enough. Do you know what’s wrong with my bionic eye? It’s shut off.”

“Affirmative,” the Techpriest replied.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Response restricted,” the Techpriest replied.

“Why would you be restricted from telling me that?” Twilight asked, her annoyance increasing rapidly.

“Response restricted,” the Techpriest replied again.

The mare fumed visibly for a few seconds. “What about this ‘subject Alpha-003’ thing? Can you tell me why you’re coming up with weird names for me all of a sudden?”

“Response… permitted. Designation assigned in accordance with shipboard experimental registrar.”

“You don’t need to assign me a designation! You KNOW my name!” Twilight retorted.

“This statement is false,” said, his vox-distorted words somehow sounding scornful to her ears. “This unit is unaware of alternate designations for subject Alpha-003.”

The mare was incredulous. “I’m Twilight Sparkle. You’ve never heard of Twilight Sparkle? My face is on a holo-screen in front of every tech-shrine in the city warning not to let me in!”

“Intriguing,” the unnamed Techpriest admitted. “What is this city that has been so warded against your blasphemous influence?”

Twilight stared at him, utterly baffled. The grogginess of her waking was fading rapidly, and the various observations she had made were starting to worry her. She could not remember where she had been when she’d fallen unconscious, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t here. What happened? Where was everybody?

“Where am I? What medicae ward is this? What ship? I am on a ship, right?” she demanded, her tone hardening.

“Response restricted.”

Twilight’s horn filled with magic as she began to cast a spell, intending to tie up the Techpriest with his own mechadendrites. However, the surge of magic that filled her horn was accompanied by something else. She would have struggled to put the sudden sensation into words: not quite pain, definitely not pleasure, but brutal in its intensity and coming from her neck. There was something there; a collar? The sensation coming from it washed all thought of her spell from her mind. Her body convulsed, and her vision went hazy.

+Observation: Psychic suppressor is functioning within expected parameters,+ the Techpriest said in Binaric, returning to the console.

Twilight gasped, spitting out the hose that leaked water down her throat. She wrenched her legs back, trying to pull them free, and was not especially surprised to find they didn’t budge. She was helpless.

“What happened to me?! Where am I?!” the young alicorn shouted at the Techpriest’s back. “Answer me! Who are you?!”

The Techpriest didn’t bother to reply. The locking indicator lumen on the door blinked green, and a soft hiss came from the mechanism. The door opened, and then a man briskly strode through. Twilight could make out the backs of several soldiers in powered armor through the doorway before it closed: she didn’t get a good look, but she could easily tell none of them were Chaos Space Marines or Dark Mechanicus cultists.

The man who entered was completely unfamiliar, but Twilight noted several icons on his polished, resplendent power armor that indicated she was no longer in the company of her allies. She was unfamiliar with the stylized “I” of the Emperor’s holy Inquisition, but she had met plenty of enemies bearing the Imperial Aquila. Her face went pale and her heart started to thunder in her chest. What had happened to her?

Inquisitor Gholth stood in front of the examination bed, studying her silently as she studied him back. “You’re awake,” he said finally, his voice brimming with barely concealed excitement. “Splendid. We can begin.”

“What’s going on here?!” Twilight demanded again. “Who are you?!”

“You have been confiscated by the Imperium’s Holy Inquisition, xeno,” he said politely. “We were searching Ishrem for you and eventually we found you. I am the leader of this expedition. You may refer to me simply as Inquisitor.”

Memories came rushing back to Twilight, burrowing through the fog of her mind. Her friends under fire from Sisters of Battle. War hymns from the station vox net. Gaela sealing a hull breach in the lifeless, airless tunnels…

“Where’s Gaela?! And Solon? Where are my friends? What happened to them?” she growled.

“I can speculate on the fate of your former companions, but I cannot confirm it and it would be unproductive,” Gholth offered, scratching at his chin. “There is much to do, little one.”

“My name is Twilight Sparkle!” the mare snapped.

“Noted! Welcome to my ship, Miss Sparkle.” The Inquisitor furnished a polite bow, but then grimaced. “This is a somewhat awkward question to ask, obviously, but it would be negligent not to: I’m aware of your psychic powers and have taken measures against them, and I must assume that those wings of yours are not merely for show. Do you have any other unique, innate skills or powers granted to your species?”

Twilight fumed angrily before answering. “Ponies possess the power of Friendship!”

Gholth needed several seconds to digest that claim. “Friendship. Really.” He didn’t seem completely dismissive so much as he was lightly skeptical.

“Countless foes have underestimated this power and every one of them now fights with us as allies or rots at the bottom of a blasted crater,” Twilight warned, her eye narrowing furiously. “Release me now and you won’t have to choose between those fates for yourself!”

Gholth regarded her silently for several tense seconds, his hands clasped behind his back. Then, ever-so-slowly, he turned a decisively suspicious glare on the Techpriest. The tech-cultist stared back obliviously, unable to properly interpret the alien’s babbling.

Twilight’s ears pinned back again. “Friendship… doesn’t seem to work on Techpriests,” she admitted regretfully.

“Excellent. Magos, have Miss Sparkle taken down from the servo-restraints. Ensure the wings are firmly immobilized, but unharmed. She will join me in the Captain’s hall.” He paused, tilting his head slightly. “Does your kind have any particular dietary preferences? If it’s anything particularly exotic I’m afraid we may have to suffice with nutrient injection.”

“Can we go over what I’m doing here first? Or what you did to my magic?” the mare growled.

“Your psychic abilities have been curtailed with the use of an archaeotech inhibitor. I will decline to explain further for reasons I’m sure are self-evident,” Gholth said apologetically. “Do not be alarmed; I believe that as this affair progresses there will be need to dispense with it, at least temporarily.” He hesitated, then straightened. “We will discuss your capture further after you have eaten. The sedative used was VERY powerful and I’m sure you’re famished.”

Twilight kept glaring at him. “I’ll have two ration tins of reconstituted starchy gruel and a mug of recaf. Black.”

“Ah, you’re familiar with our human cuisine! Splendid!”

Gholth backed up and snapped his fingers. The machine above Twilight rumbled into action, and the Magos shambled toward her with his servo arms creaking open.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Deck A-3

A shrill whine came over the vox casters as they all turned on in tandem, followed by a screeching pulse that echoed throughout the massive cavern of the asteroid’s interior.

“CITIZENSH OF ISHREM!” Solon boomed, his voice projected from dozens of points at once all across the settlement. “I AM WARSHMITH SHOLON OF THE 38TH COMPANY! WE HAVE CALLED YOU HERE TODAY TO SHPEAK ON THE UNACCEPTABLE BETRAYAL THAT HASH BEFALLEN YOUR HOME!”

An enormous crowd of bedraggled residents and human mercenaries were gathered on the side of a plaza, many of them roaring in agreement and thrusting their fists into the air. Atop the plaza was a tall Chaos Star mounted upon a pole and hammered into the middle of the open space. Tied securely to the pole was Executor Nathaniel Gaines. The man was still alive, but his cranial augmetic had been disassembled, with a large metal pit exposed on his face that was covered with inlet sockets.

To one side stood Serith, who towered over the crowd while resting on his force halberd. On the other side was Mantis, who cut such a slight figure in comparison that some of the crowd further back hadn’t noticed him at all. Iron Warriors ringed the area, each of them constantly scanning the surrounding decks restlessly. There were few ponies in attendance, and most of them were roosting on nearby shacks and viewing the spectacle with grim fascination.

“BEHOLD, YOUR EXECUTOR! BEHOLD, THE MAN WHO YOU CHARGED WITH YOUR SHECURITY! BEHOLD, THE MAN WHO CLAIMED YOUR LABORSH AND WEALTH FOR HISH OWN WHILE LEAVING YOUR HOME TO RUSHT AND ROT!” Solon snorted, the noise bouncing across the station. “BUT THISH ISH THE LEASHT OF HISH CRIMESH, IT SHEEMSH!”

Gaines glowered at his captors, but didn’t interrupt. It didn’t seem likely to rise above the booming vox casters anyway.

“HE SHOLD YOUR FUTURE TO THE IMPERIUM’SH INQUISHITION!” Solon spat. “HE INVITED THOSE WRETCHED ZEALOTSH INTO YOUR SHTATION WITHOUT A WORD OF WARNING! THEY MASSHACRED YOUR NEIGHBORSH AND HE CONCEALED THEIR MURDER! AND WHEN THE PURGE BEGAN AND THE IMPERIUM MARCHED ON YOUR HOMESH, THISH RODENT HID IN A CLOSHET DESHIGNATED BY HISH IMPERIAL MASHTERSH!”

Solon’s chassis lifted him higher and he turned his glowering optics onto the hapless man. The crowd was bellowing along with every sentence now, baying and howling at the Executor. A few of the closest ones stepped forward like they were going to rush the plaza, but Serith chuckled and gestured toward them. The rabble were harshly pushed back into the mob as if blown over by an invisible wind, and the crowd very quickly became more respectful of the space.

“ON ISHREM ONLY ONE FATE AWAITSH THOSHE WHO TURN THEIR FELLOWSH OVER TO THE FANATICAL IMPERIUM OF MAN…” Solon stepped closer to the icon of Chaos, his smokestacks vomiting clouds of foul ash into the air.

Gaines turned his head toward him, his teeth clenched. “You know I didn’t have a choice,” he seethed.

“I don’t know that, actually,” Solon said, disconnecting himself from the vox network, “but I know you had a choice of hiding placesh, and you choshe poorly. Hierophant?”

Twin flames of purple seemed to alight on the ends of Mantis’s horns. “My apologies if this spell is incorrect. This is my first time, erm, executing someone.” He pressed his hooves together and then started whispering to himself.

“She wouldn’t have wanted this,” Gaines hissed, sweat beading on his forehead and rolling down the folds of his neck. “I knew the witch for but a few minutes, and in that short time she showed grace and mercy! You cannot avenge her like this!”

Solon looked upon him silently, and then stepped closer. The great pistons in his leg hissed loudly, and the joint assemblies creaked as the Warsmith leaned over the hapless human. A foul and entirely unique odor reached the Executor’s nose, and he held his breath as he met the glowering optics of the Warsmith.

“You’re right,” Solon admitted. “Shparkle would beg me to shpare you, shpeak on behalf of your pershpective, and expect nothing in return for her benevolence.” He shifted away again. “But Shparkle ishn’t HERE, Executor. And you will die with that regret.”

Mantis chanted louder, his eyes fluttering open as caustic energies started to emerge from the deck and slither up the Executor’s legs like worms. Where the magic touched, flesh churned, swelling and drying out and splitting like overripe fruit. The Executor coughed and heaved as the pain spread, and then he sucked in a deep breath.

“I saved as many of you ungrateful wretches as I could!” he shouted to the mob, his voice an angry, spiteful snarl. “I cut a deal with a fragging Inquisitor under the shadow of an Imperial battlecruiser! You scum think you could have done better?!”

“Mediocre final words,” Serith mused aloud as the crowd roared in anger. A few small objects were flung up onto the platform to strike Ishrem’s former leader, and Serith turned aside any of the projectiles that looked deadly with a few gentle waves of his hand.

“You won’t find better than me! Gaah! The dark powers, Chaos… it… you can’t… urkg…” the Executor’s words failed him as the magic crawled up into his lower torso, and his expression was twisted into a grimace of agony.

At the rear edge of the mob, Delgan and Varya conversed while mostly ignoring the spectacle. Rarity and Jewel Bracer stood behind Delgan, the latter of whom tapped away on a dataslate. Captain Varya held up a scroll in one hand, a rueful smile on her face.

“Not a great haul is it? And if we assume Ishrem itself is truly lost, this conflict has been quite unprofitable,” Varya sighed.

“There are hundreds of other rocks crawling with desperate men,” Delgan retorted. “Some of them have better eateries, too. Not many, but a few.”

Screams of pain finally emerged from the execution, followed by the cheers and jeers of the crowd. The humans merely waited for the noise to subside, but the mares cringed and flattened their ears in unease. Delgan idly reached out and scratched Jewel’s head, and she quietly leaned into his hand.

Rarity cleared her throat once the crowd had calmed. “The munitions you requested are transferred to your ship, Lady Captain. 200 macro shells, 10 plasma accelerators, and a weapons-grade class III lens array.” Her voice was subdued and no smile reached her lips, but she still gave the accounting with a courteous tone.

“Splendid. And tell me, little pony, is there some trinket I could possibly offer to lure YOU onto my ship as well?” Varya leaned over the seamstress with a haughty grin.

“I am not for sale,” Rarity said, her tone much less courteous than before. “Please refrain from making offers on my enslavement. We’ve had quite enough bloodshed in the last two days.”

As if to underline her comment, a mournful wail and a sickening crack came from the plaza, followed by a deafening cheer from the crowd. Jewel Bracer shuddered, and Delgan gave her another pat on the head. Varya stood up straight again and wiped her cheek as if removing a tear.

“Ah, what a miserable end to a truly remarkable shore leave,” the Captain sighed. “Plenty of void dregs desperate to leave and join a crew, but Chaos has claimed all the cute aliens. You always did hoard the best treasures for yourself, Delgan.”

“I would apologize for being a better pirate than you are, but I wouldn’t mean it,” Delgan admitted. “Until next our paths cross, Captain.”

A crackle of static came from the vox again.

“And sho the jushtice of the void hash been delivered. Let all witnessh the price of betrayal,” Solon announced, standing high before the twisted mass of flesh that used to be the Executor. Blood spurted from it seemingly at random in twitching spasms, and numerous spectators shielded their eyes from the revolting sight or vomited on the decks.

“This is the end for Ishrem, friends. But it is not the end for you!” Mantis reared up next to the Warsmith, planting his front hooves on a leg. “Our ships are open to all bold enough to carve a better life out of this wretched, blood-soaked galaxy! Join us, and show the Imperium the true spirit of humanity!”

A triumphant roar came from the mob. “Long live Lord Sholon!” someone shouted, accidentally mimicking his slur. The crowd jumped in immediately, a hundred voices rising to follow the cheer. “LONG LIVE THE WARSHMITH!!”

“… Closhe enough,” Solon grumbled as Serith laughed.

Harvest of Steel
Medicae bay 2-7A

“Man, I can’t believe you managed to find an enemy army on the neutral pirate station. And like, real soldiers, too! Not sissy boarding mooks! I really need to follow you guys around more.”

Tellis sat on the edge of a bright white recuperation casket with Rainbow Dash laying in it. The pegasus was laying on her side, looking quite miserable with more bandage wrapping and patches over her body than ever. The casket lid was lying on the floor at the Iron Warrior’s feet, having obviously been ripped off rather than removed normally.

“I wish you HAD been there,” Rainbow mumbled, looking away. “I’ll bet YOU could have saved Twi.”

“Yeah, I guess, but I’m not really the saving type,” Tellis responded.

The Iron Warrior was leaning forward to rest his hands on his thigh plating while he conversed, looming over the cyan mare. The huge, claw-like wings of his flight pack scraped against the wall with every move, scratching up the covers of the other recuperation caskets that were plugged into the wall. The containers typically contained sedated subjects who were recovering from wounds and surgeries, and they were slotted into a bulkhead wall to keep them out of the way and simplify access to hydration and feeding tubes.

“I screwed up real bad this time, Tellis,” Rainbow said miserably. “The moment Twi separated from us, they snatched her up! We knew that they were looking for her! We should have never let her go with just Gaela to protect her!”

“It was her idea though, right?” Tellis asked. “I know you’re upset Rainbabe, but this was her mistake, not yours. And she also lost! C’mon!”

“I dunno. Maybe,” the pegasus grunted, rolling over, “but this isn’t about whose fault it is! Twilight’s gone! The Imperial ship escaped! Are we ever gonna see her again?!”

“That part is pretty terrible, yeah,” Tellis agreed with a chuckle. “Those Inquisition weirdos are a tricky bunch. Usually they’re as quick as any of them to burn and purge and stuff, but they went through a lot of trouble to take the nerd alive. When they do that sort of thing they always have some sort of scheme. This Gholth guy is up to something.”

Rainbow turned over again, looking up at Tellis with fear in her eyes. “What’s gonna happen to Twi?”

“She’s gonna die,” the Iron Warrior replied without hesitation. “Sure, they may want something else from her, but any time these guys seize some kind of special specimen or whatever it ends up being used for a desperate and suicidal gambit against the enemies of the Imperium or part of a bloody lab accident that kills a dozen Techpriests. Every time.” He gave a thumbs-up. “So at least we know she’ll take some bastards down with her! Hopefully it’s not us.”

Rainbow cringed. “How could this happen? I just wish-”

“Hey! What are you doing here?! Did you break her out of recuperation?!” Claret Heartthrob demanded, standing in the entrance doorway. She had a dataslate hovering in front of her as she scowled up at the Iron Warrior.

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to my pony friend! So what?” Tellis answered her.

“Lord Tellis, I believe that by order of the Warsmith you are EXPRESSLY FORBIDDEN from these premises!” Claret said through clenched teeth.

“Look lady, I can’t keep track of EVERY place in the ship I’m not allowed! Do you have any idea how many of those there are?” Tellis retorted.

“It’s just three decks! There’s signage and everything!”

“Oh, so now you expect me to READ too?”

Claret’s horn sparked angrily, and the chain that hung from base to tip started to glow slightly. “Lord Tellis, Miss Dash has been GRIEVOUSLY wounded and by now I’m convinced that locking her down in an artificially induced coma is the ONLY prospect for her to actually recover fully! PLEASE remove yourself from the medicae ward! It’s for her own good!”

“You’re such a drag, Doc,” Tellis grumbled.

Mining Nexus Ishrem
Primary dock access

“So it ain’t comin’ with us after all? Kinda surprised it would wanna stay here where it was locked up.”

Applejack and Pinkie Pie stood back as Fluttershy offered comforting whispers to the feline alien that they had encountered and freed on Ishrem. The eyeless beast sat on its haunches, looming over the ponies and occasionally licking its lips in a way that would have left them very nervous without Fluttershy’s gentle cooing and reassurances. Most of the foot traffic in the area was heading to the docks to board the remaining void ships, and those people gave the aliens a wide berth while gawking at the sight.

The alien beast licked the top of Fluttershy’s head, and the pegasus giggled. “It doesn’t like guns. It really, REALLY doesn’t like guns,” she said, her tone clearly approving of this particular aversion. “After the battle it’s not crazy about swords, either. And there’s a lot of weapons on the ship.”

“Did you ever find out if it was a boy or a girl?” Pinkie asked.

“It actually seemed confused by the question, so I think its species may reproduce by other means. Or maybe it was raised in captivity and it’s never seen another of its kind and doesn’t understand its own mating process. One of those,” Fluttershy explained while nuzzling the beast. “Isn’t nature just fascinating?”

“Ah hope it’s that first one,” Applejack grumbled. “Anyway, have a good life, spess critter! If we see ya again, don’t try’n kill us, okay?”

The alien released a rumbling murmur, and then nosed Fluttershy’s head one more time. Then it turned around to walk away.

“It says that it will remember its friends,” Fluttershy said brightly, a flush blooming on her cheeks. Then her expression darkened a bit and she coughed. “It doesn’t find you very friendly though, and said you had it coming.”

“Tch! Ungrateful varmint,” Applejack sneered before turning away toward the docks.

Pinkie and Fluttershy followed her, an uneasy silence settling over the group while they trekked back to the flagship. They were generally aware of other projects still going on in Ishrem before the Company’s fleet departed again: stripping the few useful munitions and components from the station, mostly, as well as all the patrol craft still in the hangars. There were dark preachers milling about the place pressing the reluctant residents to abandon the station and sign a service contract. Applejack also suspected the Dark Mechanicus was snatching up suitable servitor materials among the wounded residents, of which many still remained on the station.

None of these projects interested Equinought Squadron. They trudged back to the massive horror that ferried them across the stars, each one in their own quiet turmoil. Fluttershy’s contentment at seeing off the feline rapidly corroded. Pinkie Pie’s steps lacked their usual exuberance, and although she smiled calmly – already a dramatically less energetic expression than usual – it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Applejack was tight-lipped and rock-steady, but her heart ached nonetheless.

Of the three, only Applejack was wearing her combat armor, despite it still bearing extensive damage from the earlier firefights. She was the only one that found the ceramite shell, blinking autosenses, and the heft of its weaponry comforting rather than a cruel reminder of what they had endured here. That extended to Rarity, who they spotted standing next to a pile of crates on an embarkation ramp. Her pearly white coat and bright purple mane stood out very well among the dingy metal environs, although even the fashionista wasn’t in perfect shape under the conditions. Her hair was slightly matted and unusually pale, her coat was blemished in places, and though she had clearly spent a great deal of time correcting it, her makeup had run a lot. A sure sign that she had been crying.

“Ah, good. You’re back,” Rarity said, looking far more relieved than their meeting really warranted. She turned toward a small cluster of other ponies who had visors and electro-monocles on. “You have your instructions. Remember, anything that arrives late goes into the special overflow cargo chamber. Don’t forget, or the Trademaster may well stuff you in there with it.”

The other equines nodded silently, and Rarity quickly trotted up to her friends before nudging her head toward the embarkation gantry. “I can hardly express how relieved I am to see you girls. Let’s go, please.”

“We were only out fer like ten minutes,” Applejack remarked while she trudged onto the ramp.

“Ten minutes too long, if you ask me,” the unicorn sniffed. “Bad enough we had to actually return to this awful rock at all, but to have to split up like this while you’re in the presence of that alien beast…”

Fluttershy cringed, her ears pinning back.

“… I’m sorry, that was rude,” Rarity admonished herself, sighing. “Fluttershy had the alien under control the whole time. I’m just glad we can finally leave.”

“We weren’t on Ishrem for very long, though,” Pinkie noted.

“Just long enough for a bunch of Imperial thugs to foalnap Twilight,” Rarity hissed, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Pinkie Pie winced as the group entered the flagship and started heading down one of the main halls. Soldiers, Techpriests, servitors and ponies were rushing every which way through these sections as the vessel made its preparations to leave. Groups of disheveled humans without Chaos amulets or marks entered the ship from the gantries as well, usually looking quite scared and escorted by a towering Iron Warrior. The Equinoughts shuffled by without a word and reached the mag-lev bay, entering the pod that would carry them to the deck with their quarters.

The mares were silent at first while the vessel accelerated toward the bow. Rarity sometimes lifted her head as if to speak, but each time she would falter, coughing lightly and turning her head away. Applejack grimaced and sighed.

“C’mon Rares, let it out. We’re listenin’,” the farmer said.

Rarity’s ears pinned back, and she chewed her lip briefly. “I’ve spoken to both Delgan and Solon about Twilight.”

Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy perked, staring at the unicorn intensely.

“They… say that tracking the Inquisitor’s ship through the Warp is impossible for them,” Rarity said, sounding very tense. “They captured some of those Sisters of Battle and are interrogating them, as well as gathering evidence of where they’ve been. Things like munitions and seals origins, as well as their training worlds.”

Pinkie and Fluttershy’s hearts sank. The tone of Rarity’s explanation said it all. This was not an explanation that would give them hope.

“The systems they’re coming up with are… very well defended, supposedly,” Rarity said, looking away to the wall of the mag-lev pod, “but frankly, they don’t think the Inquisitor would bring Twilight someplace where the soldiers came from.” Rarity scowled. “Solon was very forthcoming about the situation. This Inquisitor… he wanted Twilight for something special. He wasn’t here to simply seize an enemy for judgment.”

“Okay, but… but they’re gonna look, right?” Pinkie asked, her voice quivering.

“Yes, they will,” Rarity grunted, “but despite everything… all their technology and sorcery and… the monsters dwelling in the bulkheads… they don’t have any real expectation of success.”

A deep sigh came from Applejack. Fluttershy cringed, tears already crawling down her cheeks. Pinkie hung her head, her mane flattening out.

“Right sportin’ of them to try,” Applejack admitted, “… If they actually bother.”

“What? Why wouldn’t they?” Rarity asked, turning her head.

“C’mon Rares. Ya really think they’re gonna bring the whole dang fleet around t’look fer ONE pony?” the farmer asked.

“It’s not JUST one pony! It’s Twilight!” Pinkie protested.

“Yeah, an’ she’s done pretty good in the pirate life an’ the Warsmith is right fond of ‘er, but let’s be serious ‘bout this,” Applejack said darkly. “This’s a war fleet. People die and disappear all the time. Shucks, Ah heard they lost a CHAOS LORD wanderin’ ‘round the ship’s core a while back. Gone, without a trace. Whole place was up and ready to go ten hours later. Ya really think they’re gonna hold up this whole operation fer Twi even if they knew exactly where she was?”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the mares. The mag-lev car slowed, and the access barricade sunk into the floor. Applejack walked out into the next hall, and the others trudged after her miserably.

“… I think they will,” Pinkie Pie said.

“What?” Applejack asked, stopping.

“Shmithy is… he’s… more than just Twilight’s commander. Or… Or owner,” Pinkie insisted hesitantly. “He’ll save her. I believe in him. I believe in their friendship!”

Applejack didn’t respond and started walking again.

“Do you think he can do that, though? Even if he wants to?” Fluttershy asked fretfully.

Pinkie nodded rapidly, her face a firm but determined frown. “Even if Shmithy can’t build a machine to do it, we have Serith and Mantis! They can do all sorts of stuff he can’t!”

“Serith would certainly help Twilight if he could, if just so he could hold it over her and demand favors,” Rarity mumbled.

“Look, Ah’m hopin’ fer the best like y’all,” Applejack said, standing in front of her dorm room. Her expression was grim and she looked at the door like she was staring it down. “Just… Just don’t git ready to give up on everythin’ if that hope runs out, alright?”

Rarity sighed. “Of course. Our obligation is to the fleet, not Twilight. It’s going to be hard, though. Very hard.”

Applejack nodded somberly. Then she spotted Daniels jogging down the hall toward them. “Wyatt?”

The mercenary was carrying a sack with him, and he dropped it at his feet in front of Applejack while beaming at the ponies.

“Hey, girls! Who wants some stimms?”

Inquisition battlecruiser Aesir’s Justice
Guest hall 2-A

Twilight tenderly held the silver bowl of nutrient gruel in her hooves and tilted it back toward her lips, slurping up the revolting but highly efficient foodstuff. By force of habit she tried to levitate the steaming mug of recaf behind it, but was promptly hit by the suppression pulse and a wave of vertigo. The bowl slipped from her numb hooves and clattered onto the table, thankfully landing so that it didn’t spill much of its contents.

“Careful now,” Gholth said conversationally. He sat at the other end of the table, delicately cutting his grox steak cooked in a light gravy.

Twilight grimaced and took the recaf up with her hooves, lifting it to drink with exaggerated care. She sighed contentedly as she put the mug down and licked her lips. “I think there’s something in this. Is it a sweetener? When I said ‘black’ I meant to not put anything in it.”

“Yes, I apologize for that,” Gholth said, pausing to take a bite of his food. “There’s some trykobarbitol added to it. It’s a mild psychoactive serum, to make you more agreeable and diminish your capacity for deception.”

Twilight frowned deeply at the mug. “… I like the recaf on the Chaos ships better,” she sniffed before putting it aside.

Gholth took a sip of his own drink and then leaned back in his chair. “You’re not at all what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” Twilight asked between mouthfuls of gruel.

“At first, I thought I was looking for an artifact. Then I supposed a mutant or a witch would be the most likely bearer of the mark. When I saw you and realized what had been delivered to me through the Emperor’s providence, I was… slightly underwhelmed, honestly.” Gholth smirked. “You have a rather diminutive form for one of the Archenemy’s beasts.”

Twilight continued eating, not obviously bothered. “We have small bodies, but big hearts,” she informed him matter-of-factly.

The Inquisitor drank his own beverage some more, studying the mare. He spoke again after putting his glass down. “If I may be more blunt: you do not look or act like an agent of Chaos, Miss Sparkle.”

At this, Twilight hesitated. She was well aware of the lethal enmity between Chaos and the Imperium, and as such was quite surprised at the humane treatment she’d received so far. She didn’t want to test the Inquisitor’s beneficence, but she imagined that she would eventually have to even if she had no idea what he wanted.

“You are an agent of Chaos, obviously. You wore custom-crafted power armor marked with profane emblems. You assaulted the soldiers of humanity with Chaos weapons and fought against the Emperor’s chosen warriors. When you awoke you were quite upset to find that you had been separated from your former allies. You belong to the dark gods, and yet…”

He trailed off, and Twilight interjected. “Not the dark gods. Solon.”

Gholth tilted his head to the side. “Pardon?”

“I serve no gods,” the Princess said firmly. “At least, not directly. I am an agent of the Iron Warriors, and the Chaos Space Marine Solon, specifically.”

“Do you imagine that makes some great difference?” Gholth asked, again returning to his food.

“Obviously, it does. You said I’m different before I’d even told you anything important,” the mare retorted. “I serve the Iron Warriors due to a personal debt. The Chaos Gods mean nothing to me.”

“Your armor bears their symbols,” Gholth reminded her between bites of his steak.

“That’s true, yeah.” Twilight grimaced slightly. “I don’t really like that, but the armor is pretty great, so I live with it.”

The Inquisitor put his fork down while he chewed his food, looking thoughtful. “You claim to serve the traitors and heretics, but not their gods. Surely you see the error in this logic? You said yourself that you do not serve the Archenemy directly.”

“Yes. Obviously, if I’m working for them, and they serve the dark gods, then one way or another I’m going to be doing some work that the dark gods wanted and that’s pretty bad,” Twilight admitted, leaning a foreleg on the table and scratching at her chin. “I realize that this is probably meaningless to you, but I do regret having to fight and kill on behalf of a malicious power like Chaos.”

“It is little comfort indeed to look upon the Sisters you’ve slain with the knowledge that you would have rather not,” Gholth agreed.

“Oh, no, not those ones. Those fights were in self-defense. But there are lots of other Imperial humans I killed who didn’t do anything to me!” Twilight insisted.

After a few awkward seconds, she cleared her throat. “I think that’s the trykobarbitol talking. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Please, go on,” the man opposite her drawled, pushing his empty plate aside. “It does not surprise me that a slave of heretics and traitors has killed loyal servants of the Emperor, and that is not why you’re here. But I would nonetheless like a full accounting of your crimes.”

“That’s… not why I’m here?” Twilight asked cautiously. “I kind of got the impression that I wasn’t taken as some sort of elaborate punishment, given that you were after me specifically but didn’t know who I was. But… what do you want with me, then?”

“I would really prefer we cover your offenses against the Imperium first,” Gholth mused, resting his fist against his cheek. “But I suppose you’ve been waiting long enough for an explanation for,” he made a gesture that seemed to encompass the meal and the ship itself, “all of this. You’ve obviously been taken into custody under the Inquisition for a reason other than being drilled for information or a swift execution.”

A squad of naval armsmen stood at attention along the walls, and Gholth gestured to one of them. “Bring her to section L.” As the man nodded and rushed off, the Inquisitor straightened and looked across the table at Twilight. “To begin broadly: you are here to serve as a weapon, Miss Sparkle. My intention is to use you to destroy the most hated and malevolent foes of mankind.”

The alicorn blinked. “A weapon? … I guess do have some experience in that…”

“I’ve little doubt. What manner of enemies have you faced before, Miss Sparkle?”

“Well, there’s the human soldiers, unfortunately. And the occasional Astartes. There’s been some Tau, some Genestealers and infected cultists. Some other assorted Tyranids. A LOT of Orks.” She scratched at her chin. “And then the daemons. There have also been several threats I faced on my home world which you would probably classify as various aliens and psychic phenomena. I think that’s everything.”

“Tell me about the daemons,” the Inquisitor said, his voice quiet yet carrying an sense of intense anticipation.

Twilight felt her heart seize up briefly, and she blinked at the man across the dining table. His face looked like it could have been made of stone (and some third of it was anyway full of metal), but it was very obvious he was far more interested in this topic than the Imperial soldiers she had killed. She wet her lips nervously.

“Well, there were some of them in…” she almost said “Ferrous Dominus” and hiccupped, “-in the Chaos base. Those were different, though. They only seemed to exist for whatever reason the Iron Warriors summoned them for. And, er, the parties, I guess. They were mostly under control.” She furrowed her brow. “The other times I’ve seen daemons, they fought me.”

“Go on,” Gholth pressed.

“The Iron Warriors can summon daemons, but whenever they appear outside of the prepared rituals they seem invariably hostile,” Twilight explained with a tired sigh, as if the creatures were pests rather than lethal nightmares manifest. “There was an incident on… on my home planet, and a few on our ship, and one on a ship that WASN’T our ship, and some kind of Warp artifact, and then there was the Eye of Terror.”

Gholth’s augmetic eye gleamed. “You’ve been to the Eye of Terror?”

“Yes. Was hunted by daemons, betrayed by allies, and the ship almost ate me. Awful place. Do not recommend.” Twilight lifted the recaf mug as if to take a sip, remembered that it was drugged, and then put it back down with a frown.

“Superb,” Gholth said, his voice very deliberately calmed. The man was excited, but Twilight didn’t quite know why. “This is the enemy you will be called upon to face, Miss Sparkle.”

“What? Daemons? Why?” Twilight was perplexed. “You have thousands of soldiers. Millions? More? Why would you go to all this trouble to make me fight Warp beasts for you? What can I do that they can’t?”

While she was speaking, the soldier that had left earlier returned to the hall and approached the Inquisitor. He whispered into Gholth’s ear, and then quickly fell back into a guard position alongside the others.

“That is a good question, Miss Sparkle. Albeit one I was hoping you already knew the answer to,” Gholth stood up from his seat. “Come. There is someone I wish you to meet.”

Twilight dropped down from the chair and onto the deck, and then trotted after the Inquisitor. The guards followed her every move, glaring at her through visors of deep electric blue or lenses of jeweled green, but not a one kept their hands on their weapons. It was a bizarre feeling, to say the least, to be surrounded by dangerous enemies but unharmed and mostly unrestrained. The Inquisitor had gone to some lengths to keep her safe during her capture, ensured she wasn’t harmed, and even left her free to move and act beyond binding her wings and magic, but the message he wanted to send was very clear: she was entirely at his mercy.

She followed him into the hall, studying everything she could see. Alternate paths, bulkhead reliefs, augury nodes… and the guards, of course. Sisters of Battle stalked the halls outside of the guest hall, their boots hitting the deck plating in perfect lockstep. Candles and incense burners decorated their armor on backpacks and pauldrons, swaying with their march and leaving a smoky trail behind their patrol.

Twilight tapped the side of her head, feeling the bolt that had been added which – she was guessing – disabled her augmetic eye. She dearly wished it could be taking pict-captures and doing analysis of the various soldiers right now. Among everything else, a constant deluge of interesting but likely irrelevant information would have been EXTREMELY comforting in her current predicament.

“This way,” Gholth announced, not slowing his pace as Twilight lagged behind. The mare reluctantly sped up, and they soon approached a door being guarded by several Sister of Battle.

Unlike the naval armsmen, the Sisters brandished their weapons freely. Flamers and boltguns were carried at the ready, capable of blasting away the approaching guests at any moment. One of the warriors had her chainsword drawn, and her finger grazed the trigger as Twilight stepped past. The weapon murmured, its engine stirring but failing to awaken fully. The mare studiously avoided eye contact.

Gholth glared balefully at the woman, but said nothing while he started punching buttons on the access cogitator next to the door. After a few seconds the access lumen blinked and the door opened. A man stood on the other side, just beyond the doorway.

Twilight’s eye widened. “Daniels?!”

Apprentice Inquisitor Regil recoiled in surprise, his eyes equally wide. Gholth didn’t quite know what to make of it, and he was further confused when the young novice turned a furious glare on him.

“I thought you said the xeno’s psychic power was suppressed,” Regil said tightly, his hand already on the laspistol in his holster.

“It is.” Gholth arched his eyebrow. “She did not utilize her psychic abilities. I have been keeping a careful watch for any such breach.” He tilted his head to look down at the pony. “Why did you refer to Apprentice Regil as ‘Daniels?’”

“What? That is… he just, uh, looks kind of like someone I know, that’s all. Sorry!” Twilight’s ears pinned back in embarrassment, her eye darting around to avoid that of the men in front of her. “You know how it is when you meet a new species and you mix some of them up. Heh heh! … Ugh.”

Upon brief observation the man in the next room was not Wyatt Daniels: His eyes were the wrong shade of brown, his jaw was narrower, and his stature slighter all around. He also possessed a cranial augmentation that fed a pair of tubes from the left side of his head to the base of his neck while the mercenary she knew had no augmentations, or at least none that he had shown off to the Equinoughts. Yet the resemblance between the man in front of her and the man who had shown up at Sweet Apple Acres that fateful day to hunt for Tau reconnaissance was quite remarkable.

Gholth stared at Twilight Sparkle critically for a few seconds, and then looked back at Regil. “And why are you so shocked to hear a name that is not your own, Apprentice? Why do you jump to accusations of telepathy?”

Regil glared at the Inquisitor and adjusted the collar of his jacket. “We possess many names, Lord Inquisitor. That one means nothing to me now, but I…” he trailed off, his glare shifting to Twilight briefly. “Never mind that. It is not something to discuss before the menagerie.”

“Do not refer to them as ‘menagerie’ where they can overhear,” the Inquisitor snapped back. “Your conduct is becoming a problem, Apprentice. If your behavior does not improve, you WILL be removed from this operation.”

Twilight watched anxiously as the younger man was dressed down, deeply regretting that she had said anything. She really shouldn’t have identified him; even if it had been Daniels, such an outburst would have just gotten him in trouble. Watching Regil fume silently under the Inquisitor’s lecture wasn’t really pleasant either.

“If we are quite finished with these tedious delays…” Gholth said, gesturing to the room.

“Of course,” Regil replied, his irritation once again buried under a mask of cool deference. “This way, Lord Inquisitor.”

Twilight cautiously followed Gholth and Regil into the next room, casting a glance over her shoulder at the veritable wall of armored Battle Sisters blocking any other routes through the hall. The place Regil was waiting in seemed to be a shrine, if she were to make a guess. There were several statues of winged humans and people in armor, skulls adorned nearly every wall and mantle, and there were clusters of candles EVERYWHERE. The ceiling was high, even by the standards of the wastefully roomy human warships, and had a domed ceiling that was covered by a series of heavy shutters. The room’s lighting was obnoxiously dim, with some underpowered track lumens on the walls to add to the delicate glow of the candles. A few large metal lanterns hanging from the statues provided the most illumination, and censers hung from them on heavy chains that steadily leaked incense smoke into the room.

In the middle of the room was a larger statue of a man in power armor holding a sword in front of him. Purity seals and scrolls were attached to the base and to the statue’s legs, and the lantern-slash-incense burners hung from each of its massive shoulder pauldrons. At its base was a short woman kneeling with her face toward the statue and her hands clasped in prayer. Twilight presumed this person was who she was here to see, since she was the only person who seemed to be waiting in the room.

“Vija. She has arrived,” Gholth said, beckoning to Twilight. “This is Miss Twilight Sparkle. She is the Light.”

The woman flinched. She was a slight figure, slim and short compared to the human women Twilight had met in the past (who, to be fair, were almost all soldiers). Her hair was very pale blue, almost the color of ice, and it hung loose past a pair of plasteel tubes built into the back of her head and running to some sort of metal bulb built into the small of her back. She wore a tunic that was clean but well-worn, and a pair of delicate sandals could be seen under the hem. The clothing was frankly quite primitive even by pony standards and although she wasn’t too familiar with Imperial crews, seeing it on a void ship probably marked the woman as someone special.

Vija slowly turned around, and Twilight confirmed the woman was definitely someone special.

One gentle blue eye peered out from beside a lock of hair, widening immediately at the sight of the purple pony. Twilight’s remaining eye widened similarly at seeing her face. Where the left side of Vija’s face was not unusual, the right side was covered in thick, oblong blisters that started with a single bulge in the middle of her forehead and then spread down the right half of her face, covering her eye, cheek, ear, and then tapering off over the side of her neck. Twilight gulped, immediately recalling some of the disfiguring afflictions of the Nurgle cults in the fleet and wondering which one this might be.

Then the blisters split open, one after another in rapid sequence, and the mare’s jaw fell open. They weren’t blisters at all. They were eyes. Nineteen of them in total, including the one that was positioned normally. They were all different; some looked normal but had different colored irises, some had strange, luminous pupils, and one was a solid black riddled with ice blue veins without any visible iris or pupil at all.

Twilight felt bad for staring, but the woman seemed equally stunned at the sight of the purple pony. Vija’s eyes fixed on Twilight’s face, then her cutie mark, and then she looked up at Gholth with an expression that contained both confusion and fear in equal measure.

“Not what you expected, is she?” the Inquisitor chuckled.

“What… IS she?” Vija asked, clutching her hands together over her stomach. She held a rosary of silvery beads with the Imperial Aquila attached, and they rattled gently along with her nerves.

“It’s still early in my research,” Gholth admitted, “but Miss Twilight is a pony. A xenotic equine. A psyker. And an… ally, it seems, of the Great Enemy. Formerly, that is.”

Vija flinched, her many extra eyes blinking. It was a surreal, somewhat grotesque sight the way the eyelids flickered in uneven sequence from top to bottom, like a rolling wave of flesh and hypnotic color. Twilight turned her head up at Gholth.

“Miss Sparkle, this is Vija. She is an… advisor of mine, you could say,” he gestured warmly to the woman. “She is a mutant, obviously. I’m sure that means little to you, given your previous employers.”

Suddenly Twilight’s ears perked. “Wait, you… you called me… the Light? Why? What does that mean?” she asked suspiciously. “The only things you knew about me were that name, my cutie mark, and that I would be on Ishrem station. How?”

Gholth made a strange, subtle gesture with his fingers, and Regil grimaced and stepped aside while tapping at a bracelet. A strange, opaque bubble shimmered into being around them, encompassing the middle of the shrine room. Twilight’s ears flicked, picking up a very slight, uncomfortable noise, and she stared suspiciously at the bubble’s perimeter.

“I realize this probably isn’t the most convenient time for this request but can you undo whatever you did to break my optical augment?” Twilight asked sourly. “It usually offers me some kind of brief, esoteric explanation or analysis whenever I see something unfamiliar, and I’d really appreciate that capability now.”

“I must decline,” Gholth said politely. “Knowledge is power, Miss Sparkle, and it must be guarded carefully. I will tell you what you need to know, but I’m sure you understand that you will not be given leave to peruse a warship of the Inquisition and mine its secrets for yourself.”

Twilight looked extremely unhappy to hear this; Gholth hadn’t seen such a scowl on her since she had first woken up and realized that she had been captured. “First the Dark Mechanicus, now you,” she grumbled. “Fine, then. Am I permitted to know what that bubble is? Is it some kind of internal security measure that will electrocute me if I try to escape?”

“The white veil is a secondary security measure. It will keep any eavesdroppers from overhearing this conversation, and cut off any transmission impulses from hidden devices that could record us.” He gestured to Vija. “She was my source, Miss Sparkle. It was she who witnessed a magnificent disruption in the Warp, and overheard the whispers of the damned. She brought to me a word: the Light. A place: the husk of an asteroid, hiding a pirate’s den. And an emblem: your… ah, what did you call it?”

“My cutie mark,” Twilight repeated.

“Hmm. Strange name. Slightly embarrassing,” Gholth admitted, “but yes, that too. All meant for the eyes and ears of the Great Enemy.”

Twilight arched an eyebrow, and then looked over at Vija. She squirmed, her many eyes all shifting to look away in various directions and avoid eye contact.

“Vija has Warpsight,” Gholth continued. “A marvelous, unique Warpsight. We have many mutants who can see into the Sea of Souls in ways that defy mortal calculus and understanding, but Vija can do so much more than that.”

Regil suddenly interjected. “Lord Inquisitor, is it completely necessary that Miss Sparkle be told the particulars of this power?”

Gholth turned to look at Regil. Their eyes locked, and thought neither said anything, Twilight could only imagine there was a great deal of meaning that crossed between them. She had seen the Inquisitor admonish the Apprentice before, but on this occasion Gholth furrowed his brow and turned away.

“This is, of course, a slight diversion from your ultimate question: why are you here?” Gholth continued. “It’s time I got to the point. You are to be my weapon, Miss Sparkle, because you can destroy daemons.”

Twilight blinked. Twice. “Well… sure I can. If you give me a gun. I’m just not sure I’ll be more help than the angry ladies in armor.” She paused. “I can do it even without the gun, of course, but I’d need you to unlock the suppressor. And even then, guns are generally more convenient.”

Regil’s stare was measured but withering, his eyes practically boring holes into Gholth’s back. Vija stared at the Inquisitor and cringed, and then kept fretting. Gholth was obviously unhappy with the answer, but his reply was calm and confident.

“Miss Sparkle, do you know what happens to a daemon when you shoot it?”

The pony Princess brightened substantially. “Yes, I believe so! I’ve only read three works on daemonology and can hardly be considered a journeymare, partially on account of it being inherently unfathomable to those of sound mind and partially because I’m still new to the prerequisite scientific literature on Warp Harmonics and Psykant Neuro-Diffusion. But combat against daemons is a fairly elementary concept, and one that I decided to study early once it became clear that I would be doing a lot of daemon shooting!”

Vija gulped and Regil sighed and started massaging his head.

“When a daemon is exposed to violent kinetic force or – in the case of las, fire, or plasma weaponry – extreme thermal discharge, the ‘flesh’ of the daemon suffers a catastrophic reaction similar but not necessarily equivalent to that experienced by normal material composites such as metal, dirt, organics, and so on. This reaction destabilizes the ‘false atomics’ that make up what WE perceive as the daemon’s material body, and it undergoes a rapid conversion back to Warp energy. This explains why daemonic wounds often appear to be leaking prismatic gases: the Empyreal non-matter is being forcibly reverted and loses the coherence of the daemon’s material form. Now: this Warp energy itself sometimes reacts in unexpected ways to the incoming gunfire…”

Twilight trailed off, looking left and right like she was searching the shrine for something. “Do you have a diagramming slate? Or a chalkboard? A chalkboard would be perfect.”

“No. Move it along, please,” Gholth commanded, gesturing with his hand for her to hurry up.

“Right. Okay. So, once a daemonic body suffers sufficient damage, it will USUALLY collapse as the remaining Warp-associated matter loses integrity and can no longer maintain a working quasi-biological state. Again, this is usually accompanied by a shroud of prismatic gas-like emissions as the daemon’s remains rapidly disintegrate. I can attest to this observation personally.” Twilight felt moderately proud of that admission, but the humans in the room did not look impressed. “After a daemon is destroyed in the material universe, its animating energies bleed back across the dimensional veil. In addition to this personal energy being returned to the Warp, the daemon’s soul – as in, its intellectual sentience – reconstitutes itself somehow, effectively reanimating the daemon back in the Warp. The psykant matri-”

“That’s fine, you can stop now,” Gholth interrupted blandly. “I’m rather impressed, Miss Sparkle, and quite pleased. You’ve made this much easier for me to explain.” He again clasped his hands behind his back. “As you said, a daemon that is destroyed in the Materium simply retreats to the Immaterium to be reborn. Even if harmed in the Warp, such damage tends toward even lesser permanence in a realm where the physical laws of mortality have no sway. Daemons are immortal in the truest sense of the term: they do not fear death, because they do not and cannot die. Neither age or illness or even violence can leave an enduring mark upon them, much less remove them from existence. Yet in battlefields across the galaxy the defenders of humanity perish by the hundreds, thousands, or more simply to press them back to their abyss. Victory over our greatest enemy can never be achieved; we can merely purchase respite while they plot their next blasphemy.”

“Yes, that’s all true. Very unfortunate,” Twilight agreed. “So…”

Then the Inquisitor pointed to Twilight. “You, Miss Sparkle, may hold the secret to turning this bloody, impossible stalemate. You can destroy daemons.”

Twilight blinked. “What?”

“Utterly. Permanently. Vija has seen this,” Gholth insisted. “This ability is not unheard of, but in all the galaxy there have been but a few such weapons or individuals. You are one of them, Miss Sparkle.”

“Uh… no. No, I’m not, and no, she hasn’t seen it. I never met or heard of Vija until today,” Twilight said with a somewhat anxious chuckle. “And if she was somehow observing me before now with all those eyes… well I really doubt that, given how surprised she was to see me. But even if she did, I don’t know what to tell you, Inquisitor. She’s wrong. I haven’t destroyed any daemons. Except in the traditional, non-permanent way.”

There was a tense pause. Gholth frowned deeply, thinking. Vija bit her lip, clutching her rosary. Regil’s clenched fist trembled slightly, and he looked like he was desperately restraining an outburst.

“… I hope this doesn’t mean you have no use for me and have to dispose of me now,” Twilight said nervously, chuckling while her ears pinned back. “I can still fight daemons with you if you really want! I just don’t think I’m going to be nearly as effective as you expected.”

“You-” Regil started to speak, but Gholth held up a single index finger, silencing him.

“Vija,” the Inquisitor said, “explain what you’ve seen of the Light. It seems Miss Sparkle does not understand…”

“THAT is your assessment of this farce?” Regil asked icily. Gholth shot him a glare, but the Apprentice just crossed his arms over his chest, having said his piece.

Twilight noted the tension and then returned her attention to Vija. The mutant woman was clearly steeling herself, whispering under her breath while clutching the rosary and squeezing her normal eye shut tight. Her other eyes all focused on Twilight uncertainly, shifting away in uneven sequence, blinking, narrowing, and sometimes changing colors in ways that were both fascinating and repulsive. Then she dropped her arms and addressed the pony properly.

“Many of my eyes are able to see into the Warp. Each of them can focus in a different manner or sense some unique phenomenon. The… The Inquisitor has sanctioned my service because these abilities allow me to observe daemons in the Warp and interpret clues as to their plotting.”

“You can… spy on daemons?” Twilight asked uncertainly.

“That’s a decent enough explanation, yes,” Vija began, sitting down so that she could more easily look the mare in the eye. “Many Solar months ago, I was observing a Warp storm far to the galactic East. There were curious aspects of this Warp storm, as there are for many such phenomenon. The Inquisitor requested I search for evidence of Chaos sorcery.”

Twilight gulped loudly. Assuming the mutant was referring to the right system, the storm had, in fact, been a creation of Chaos magic, and one that Twilight absolutely did not want the Imperium investigating. Had this woman identified the Centaur system as the source?

“I had many findings to report, but among my survey I felt a significant surge within the Warp, like a…” she trailed off, looking frustrated. “I’m… unsure how to describe it in ways that could be of use to you. Its power was not unheard of, but its nature… Among my trainings, studies, and missions, I’ve never witnessed anything remotely like it. It briefly shook and redirected the nearby eddies of the Empyrean, and in that moment, thousands of alien souls perished, as if their spirits were plucked from their bodies all at once and dragged through the veil with brute force.”

Beads of sweat collected on Twilights head and slowly rolled down her neck. “Okay, yes, that did happen. Those were Orks, though! I killed Orks! Did you want help killing Orks?”

“While the thought of a psychic power that can eliminate a greenskin army in one fell swoop is intriguing, that is not what we are here to discuss,” Gholth nodded to Vija.

“During that moment, immediately before the surge, a daemonic presence I was observing was… undone,” Vija said, her voice almost breaking. “It was destroyed, utterly and completely. I’d never seen anything like it.”

Twilight blinked.

“The flow of time is not constant in the Warp, and as a result many daemons exist simultaneously in the past, present, and – I assume – the future. After these daemonic spirits were unmade, a hole was burned in the continuity of the Empyrean. They were removed from any sense of time itself. These… holes are still there. They will always be there, surely. To the denizens, perhaps they always were. And each one is marked indelibly with a psychic imprint of the soul that slew them. The purple star…”

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA,” Twilight held up her hooves, still sweating anxiously, “I think I know what specific event you’re referring to and I’ll confirm that it was me, but I don’t remember destroying any daemons! Like I said, I was fighting Orks! If that happened and it really held my magic… ‘imprint’ or whatnot, then it wasn’t intentional!”

“You destroyed two immortal daemons, carving them out of unreality itself, and it wasn’t even a deliberate act?” Gholth asked, a somewhat smug smile forming across his face. “Impressive, Miss Sparkle.”

“What I’m trying to say is that I still doubt it was me, and if it was then it probably isn’t repeatable!” Twilight protested.

“The daemons believe it was you,” Vija mumbled.

Twilight’s head jolted up and her eye shrank. “They… They think… I…” Her jaw hung slack as a few key mysteries were suddenly solved. “The daemons think I can destroy them! THAT’S why they’re plotting ambushes and creating needlessly complex schemes to kill me!”

Vija nodded. “Many whispers have I witnessed that called for the denizens of the Warp to rally against the Light. It was… difficult to interpret at times, although knowing how you are associated with the mark does help my understanding now. You have inspired FEAR in them, Miss Sparkle.”

“So you’re saying the Warp itself really IS trying to kill me?!” Twilight asked, understandably horrified.

“No, that is an overstatement,” Gholth interjected. “The Warp, despite everything, is not a unified, gestalt will, and even among daemons you aren’t quite as infamous as you would think for being one of their few truly lethal threats in all the galaxy,” the Inquisitor started pacing, his power armor whirring and clanking gently as he walked a circuit around the mutant and pony. “Many daemons simply have no intellectual wherewithal to comprehend mortality. They could watch another of their kind be obliterated and the thought would not occur to them. Others may not fully grasp the significance, or they might consider – perhaps correctly – that such a threat cannot slay ALL of them, so there is little to fear. And Warpspawn have never been a well-unified force at the best of times.”

Gholth stopped his circuit. “Now then, as for it being repeatable…” Twilight winced. “Explain the procedure.”

Twilight glanced up at him, and then dropped her gaze immediately. “I, uh… I don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say about it…”

“Proceed, Miss Sparkle,” Gholth commanded.

Twilight considered refusing. She didn’t really want to explain the Elements of Harmony or go over any details of the second siege of Canterlot. To simply decline to cooperate further MIGHT not result in an immediate execution, considering the lengths the Inquisitor went to capture her safely and even keep her (somewhat) comfortable. On the other hoof, he had also casually attempted to drug her already and she didn’t believe for a second that he didn’t have other coercive methods or wouldn’t use them.

“It used a… magic booster. Or I guess, to you, a psykant booster. A power source so great it had to be split into six pieces to be used by me and my friends. We gathered together while the Orks were sieging a city around us.” She wet her lips briefly. “The spell used was some sort of huge ritual casting by the fleet’s most powerful Chaos Sorcerer. The idea was to tap into the Orks’ gestalt psychic presence to destroy them. The Sorcerer said he needed an incredible amount of magic energy to do it, so me and my friends were to act as a power source.”

Gholth was listening very carefully, his optical bionic slowly swiveling in its socket. Regil had a large bracelet with a screen on his forearm and was tapping at it in a manner that suggested he was typing rapidly.

“The spell didn’t work at first. But then I… I seized control of it for myself.” Twilight’s eye dropped briefly before she forced it back up to meet the Inquisitor’s. “There’s a lot that went on in that few… uh… seconds? Minutes, maybe? I lost track of time too, but it wasn’t that long. The Orks were assaulting the casting chamber. I had to draw in even more power and force the spell to conclusion when I didn’t really understand it. When it was over I didn’t really comprehend what I had done, but I knew that it had worked. The Orks in the city were dead. All of them.”

“I see. And this power source? The ‘psykant booster?’ What is it?” Gholth demanded.

“It was a set of legendary enchanted jewels. They did not survive the spell,” Twilight sighed. “Also I kind of blasted the Sorcerer’s soul out, too.”

“Splendid,” Gholth said happily.

“He got better,” she added.

“Unfortunate,” Gholth amended, frowning.

“So… that was it. Somehow, I guess, I obliterated two daemons when I did that. I also had a direct encounter with one a little later, but I’m positive that one escaped alive.” Twilight hung her head. “I’m sorry, Inquisitor, but I do not know how to do what you wish.”

“Of course you don’t,” Regil snapped, his expression seething as he finished his notes. “What a complete and utter waste of time and lives.”

Gholth turned his head to look at him, his expression distinctly disappointed. “Really, Apprentice Regil? Is that all you have to say after a story of such a remarkable feat?”

“If any of what she says is true, which I still doubt, how is this creature of any use to us?” the younger man asked, once again forcing his tone toward a more neutral tenor.

“It is very likely true, given how well her story matches Vija’s observations,” Gholth said, scratching at the side of his chin. “In addition, I’ve been probing her thoughts for signs of dishonesty. Her words are not deceptive, although I sense great fear from her.”

Twilight’s eye twitched. “You can… read my mind?”

“No, of course not,” Gholth said, brushing off her question without elaboration. “If her story is true, then this power exists. It may not be a simple matter to harness it. It may prove infeasible as a regular weapon in the great war against Chaos.” His eye narrowed at the other man. “It will require much more research, but make no mistake: what we have here is something of inestimable value to the Imperium of Man. I will study it, and I will use it. Is that acceptable, Apprentice Regil?”

The younger man met the Inquisitor’s eyes, and then he straightened his posture. “Of course, Lord Inquisitor. If you believe this project is of worth, and I may supervise the research, then I have no objection.”

“Good,” Gholth said coldly. Then he turned sharply to Twilight. “We will begin when we reach our destination. I have an initial trial in mind, so prepare yourself, Miss Sparkle.”

“Normally preparing myself would mean donning my power armor,” Twilight pointed out, “so-”

“No,” Gholth replied curtly. “Your armor is a profane artifact. It will be studied, melted to slag, and then discarded into the void once we reach real-space.”

“What?! Why?” Twilight demanded hotly, her anger rising in a manner that she hadn’t felt since waking up. “If the symbols bother you, you can just take them off! Hay, give it a new paint job if you want and stamp that mutant bird thing on the front, I don’t care! Don’t destroy it!”

Both men gave her quiet, withering stares.

“Okay, well… are you going to replace it, at least? The Imperium can make power armor too, right?” Twilight demanded.

Regil actually chuckled, which was a surprising sound to hear from him. Gholth started heading for the entrance.

“We don’t make that type of plate in your size, Miss Sparkle. I will requisition… something for you, eventually. For now you needn’t worry about that.” He swiped a hand toward the door’s access panel and the door opened. “I’ll have the security team supervise this room until we’re ready for you. You may get to know Miss Vija in the interim.”

The Inquisitor stepped out without waiting for a response, and Regil swiftly followed. The moment both men were through, Inquisitorial armsmen started moving into the room to surround the shrine. Vija shied away from them, most of her eyes closing as she cringed.

Twilight groaned and looked up at the blast shutters protecting the shrine’s dome.

“Girls, wherever you are out there, I hope you’re okay…”

Harvest of Steel
Deck C-13 – equine bunks

Warp translation complete. All vessels accounted for and holding formation. The fleet seeks fresh victims…

Suuna shuddered at the growling voice over the vox caster, and then sped up a bit to keep pace with Trixie. The unicorn was trotting down the halls in her power armor and hat, glancing left and right at each door they passed. The odd crewman passed them by – usually pausing briefly to marvel at the pony in power armor and a wizard cap – but there was little traffic in this part of the ship so soon after Warp translation. Most of the combat crew were resting or cleaning their wargear, and most of the non-combat crew were still organizing what little useful cargo the Company had taken from Ishrem before leaving.

It wasn’t clear to Suuna where Trixie was leading her, but the mare had stopped several times to briefly peruse cogitator consoles before moving on. She was unusually quiet in this, and it was making Suuna a little bit worried. Her expression was quite serious, and occasionally she seemed lost in thought before shaking her head and grimacing.

“Are you cold, Suuna? You look uncomfortable,” Trixie asked.

Suuna shook her head slightly. “No. Just nervous. It feels like there’s a… frustrated energy among the soldiers,” she said hesitantly. “What happened on the space station?”

“Imperial ambush. Or something like that,” Trixie mumbled, not looking back at her assistant. “Quite unfortunate that Trixie put off visiting the station right away. It seems the Equinoughts could have used some backup.”

Trixie sniffed haughtily and Suuna arched an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Trixie to lament missing out on a fight or, for that matter, show much concern for the other members of the Company. She distinctly remembered Trixie scoffing after seeing a readout of the mining nexus and claiming that the place looked like a run-down death trap. Which it had been, apparently, but not for the reasons she thought.

“Ah, here they are,” Trixie said, turning toward a storage room and tapping her boot against the access panel.

The door opened, and Trixie recoiled. Fluttershy was racing around in a circle frantically biting like she was trying to catch her own tail. She was still without her armor, and after a few seconds she started flapping her wings wildly and rolling around on the floor. Trixie gawked at the sight, but before she could recover from the surprise Rarity had suddenly rushed in front of her.

“Trixie, DARLINGGG, do you have any food?” the snow white unicorn asked, drawing out the word “darling” to a bizarre degree. Her eyes were intense and rather bloodshot, and her horn was glowing and dimming intermittently, like a dying lumen.

Trixie stared for a moment. “Do you want a ration? There’s probably a crate of them in here somewhere.”

“No! Not a ration! By the sun, isn’t there any REAL food in this wretched monster’s iron belly?!” Rarity cried, rearing up and kicking her feet. “DARLING if I don’t get some real calories I am going to do something DRASTIC!”

Then Rarity suddenly fell back down, her head hanging to one side slightly. “Drastic. That’s a nice word, isn’t it? I should use it more often. DRASTIC.” She giggled, her eyes staring vacantly at nothing.

“… What the HAY is going on here?!” Trixie asked after a stunned pause.

“We’re copin’. Whatcha want?” Applejack asked. She was sprawled across Daniels’ lap, looking like she was on the verge of falling asleep while he slowly brushed her mane. Her armor suit was lying on the deck next to them, its rear section peeled open like a cicada’s abandoned shedding.

“Trixie wanted to ask about Sparkle,” the magician said, taking a large step away from Rarity. “What’s the plan on getting her back?”

“TWILIGHT!!” Rarity howled, suddenly falling over and wailing toward the ceiling. “I’m so sorry! We failed you! DRASTICALLY!!”

Fluttershy stopped rolling around and sniffled, looking like she too were about to break down into sobs. Then she suddenly bit onto the end of her tail like a predator attacking a victim who had let its guard down. Then she fell over.

“… Coping, huh?” Trixie asked, arching an eyebrow.

“We ain’t done yet! Leave us alone!” Applejack sniffed.

Trixie groaned, her ears flipping down. “Is there anyone actually working on fixing this rather than moping about it?”

“Pie is in the next room pitching strategies to the Warsmith,” Daniels replied.

Trixie stared at him incredulously. “WHAT?”

Daniels leaned over toward another access panel and tapped it, and then a door opened to a smaller room with a logistics cogitator. Pinkie Pie was standing up in front of it, her rear legs on a chair and her front legs propped up on the console desk. Warsmith Solon’s face was projected on the screen, staring at something out of frame while the pink pony spoke.

“-and put it in the main hive’s water supply, causing a mass infection with clearly supernatural origin,” Pinkie said, her voice and expression uncharacteristically serious. “Launch a few raids in the interim to let people know there’s Chaos Space Marines but keep most of the army on the down-low. Then they’ll dispatch an Inquisitor to check up on things, and BAM! We nab him!” She punched a hoof into the monitor like she was socking the Inquisitor, and the display briefly flickered into static before reforming.

“Ashide from the dangeroushly long time-frame – it could take monthsh before an Inquishitor ish dishpatched to inveshtigate the attacksh – mosht Inquishitorsh do not have operational knowledge of their peersh’ activitiesh. That’sh by deshign, to limit the damage from capturing and interrogating one,” Solon explained. “The chancesh of a random Inquishitor having a lead on Gholth ish very near zero.” Gentle flickers of light flashed briefly on the face of his helmet as he spoke, cast from whatever machining tool he was working with.

“Darn. Okay… let’s see…” Pinkie frowned and rubbed her chin with a hoof.

“… WHAT?” Trixie said again, even more incredulously.

“Mare, Ah dunno what ya want from us,” Applejack grumbled.

“Trixie WANTED to hear how we’re going to rescue Sparkle,” the unicorn snapped, “but instead you’re all hopped up on space drugs and goofing off!”

“Hey! You can’t talk to us like that,” Fluttershy complained, “I’m invisible!”

“You’re not invisible,” Suuna pointed out helpfully.

The pegasus yelped and ran, almost tripping over her own hooves to hide behind one of the empty storage containers.

“There are very few optionsh available to ush, and none have a high likelihood of shuccessh,” Solon explained. “We have no meansh of tracking Missh Shparkle sho long as she’sh in the Warp. Once she ish shecured by the Imperium it will be posshible to locate her, but there will be many, many more obshtaclesh.”

“And you’re going to let THAT stop you?!” Trixie demanded, bristling.

“Okay, wait, new plan,” Pinkie Pie interrupted. “First, Shmithy invents a time machine. Then we go back to Ishrem and travel backward in time and stop Twilight from being abducted in the first place!”

“Absholutely not,” Solon replied firmly, “I hate time travel.”

“That… That’s your main objection to it?” Suuna asked, baffled.

“Well we would need him to build the time machine, so obviously he gets a veto,” Pinkie reasoned aloud. “All right then, let’s talk magic options. What if we sacrificed people to Tzeentch? Like, a LOT of people.”

Trixie’s magic turned on to smash a fist-shaped ball of magic against the door panel, and it quietly slid shut. Then she turned around and started heading back toward the exit.

“Ya done already?” Applejack asked, yawning.

“This is going nowhere. What a waste of time,” Trixie grunted, stepping out into the hall with Suuna following.

“Can you bring back snacks?” Rarity asked. “I still want snacks. Trixie? Miss Assistant? Please?”

Trixie again summoned a magic hand to slam the door shut behind her. Then she turned and continued down the hallway, fuming quietly. Suuna hesitated, glancing the other way, and then rushed to catch up with the unicorn.

“Mistress Trixie, our room is back that way,” the assistant helpfully informed her, pointing behind them.

“Yes Suuna, Trixie is aware,” Trixie replied curtly.

“… Are you going to bring the Equinoughts some food after all?”

“No Suuna, Trixie has better things to do,” her voice was a little colder this time, apparently annoyed that her assistant could come to such a conclusion.

“Like what, if I may ask?”

Trixie glanced back over her shoulder. “Trixie isn’t sure why Sparkle is so important to everyone all of a sudden. She’s apparently expendable enough to send on doomed missions all the time, and it’s not like most of our enemies are trying to take her alive.” She scowled. “But the daemons wanted her badly enough to do some longshot psychic dream plot and even roped Trixie into their schemes, and Trixie resents that. A LOT. So Trixie needs to keep an eye on her.”

“Uh… okay, that… makes sense,” Suuna said dubiously. “But you can’t do that when she’s been captured by the Imperium, of course.”

“Correct. Who know what sort of stupid drama she’ll get caught up in while enslaved by the Imperium?! With the daemons still hunting her, her cycles are numbered!”

“So what are you going to do?”

Trixie narrowed her eyes. “If Warsmith Solon and the Equinoughts aren’t going to get her back, then Trixie will have to do it herself.”

Trixie evidently found the location she was looking for, and she stopped in front of another door with a large purple symbol painted on it. Suuna had never been in this section of the ship before, but the area looked like it was devoted to crew quarters that were (slightly) larger than the normal ones for combat personnel. At first she assumed it was Twilight Sparkle’s room because of the marking on the door, but a brief study of the purple symbol in the door changed her mind. It was an octagram, not a starburst, drawn in thick, dark purple line without the interior being filled in.

Trixie tapped the access panel, and then recoiled when the lumen flashed red and nothing else happened. “What’s the matter? Why isn’t it opening?”

“It’s locked, Miss Trixie,” Suuna explained with a slight smile.

“Do you know how to unlock it?” Trixie asked, frowning at the barrier.

“A sufficiently ranked officer could do it. Probably any Iron Warrior, or a Techpriest…”

“Trixie keeps telling the Astartes that she needs greater access to their secure areas! They never listen!” Trixie scowled and banged her greaves against the door, filling the hall with the ring of ceramite slamming against hardened steel. “HEY, OPEN UP!! TRIXIE NEEDS TO TALK TO YOU!!”

Suuna looked back and forth, a rather embarrassed expression on her face while Trixie continued making a racket. When the unicorn paused she could hear some kind of muffled sound coming from the room, but it was not a reply and the door didn’t open. Increasingly frustrated, Trixie glared at the access panel and her horn lit up.

“Trixie has sure been getting a lot of use out of this haywire spell,” she remarked as she started flooding the internals with magic energy.

The panel started blinking rapidly, and then the lumens changed colors. First they flashed red, then green, then yellow, and then bright white before blasting out in a burst of sparks. Tortured squeals and rapid beeping came from the device, and a flood of corrupted data-screed consumed the monitor display.

Trixie walked up to the door and pushed it to the side with telekinesis. It resisted at first, groaning and rattling on the frame’s rail, but then the access panel made a rude-sounding noise. The door slid open smoothly, and a shout of alarm came from inside.

“What the blazes do you think you’re doing?!” Hierophant Mantis roared while he rushed to the entrance. He was sweating and breathing hard, with his pale face flushed a bright red. While he was obviously very angry, Trixie doubted that accounted for the exertion.

She arched an eyebrow, and then leaned slightly to one side. Trixie could see Snow Fallie laying on a bed with her head sticking out from under the covers, and once spotted she squeaked and ducked under the blanket entirely. Mantis growled, his face darkening further.

“I had the door locked for a REASON, Miss Trixie. Now what do you WANT?” the Hierophant demanded angrily, and a spark crackled between his curved horns.

“Trixie wants to make a deal,” Trixie said, her tone curiously grim.

“Oh? And what are you offering? It had better include getting a Techpriest to fix my door,” Mantis said, his eyes narrowing.

“Not with you,” Trixie clarified.

The goat-horned cultist hesitated, and then glanced behind him. “With… Snow Fallie?”

“Don’t be stupid,” the unicorn said flatly.

Mantis looked up at Suuna, obviously baffled. She shrugged helplessly. Mantis look at Trixie again.

“Cool off, clean yourself up, and follow Trixie,” the magician ordered, backing up and seizing the door again with her magic. “We’re going to save a Princess.”

She slammed the door shut.

Inquisition battlecruiser Aesir’s Justice
Reflection shrine, room 2-L

“So… Vija…” Twilight’s gaze darted back and forth uncertainly, wondering what sort of social mannerisms were appropriate to a mutant servant of a daemon-hunting Inquisitor. “Uh… wanna swap eye stories?”

She smiled as broadly as she could, which made her expression look painfully forced. Vija sat on her knees, staring dubiously at the purple pony. Her hands still clutched the rosary, but her overall posture had relaxed a lot since she first saw the alien mare.

“I don’t want to do that at all,” the girl replied. Her mutant eyes were closed now, leaving one side of her face looking like a swollen, lumpy mass of tumors or welts. It was far more disturbing this way than when they were open, Twilight decided.

“I think it would be a good start to building up a little trust,” Twilight said, turning her smile down a few notches in intensity.

“I don’t think we should be trusting creatures of Chaos,” Vija said dubiously.

“Ah, but I’m not a creature of Chaos at all!” Twilight retorted, pressing a hoof to her chest. “I’m a creature of HARMONY contracted to a particular Chaos Lord because he’s done me several favors.”

“That… doesn’t sound like much of a difference.”

“I kind of thought the same before you told me I was some sort of living anti-daemon weapon,” Twilight said with a chuckle, “but now the difference seems quite meaningful!” She coughed into her hoof. “Anyway, I lost my left eye when a Chaos Space Marine shot me in the face with a bolt pistol. Then the Warsmith who he had usurped made me this bionic replacement!”

Vija blinked owlishly. “Your ally shot you?”

“No, they weren’t allies. Well, I guess they sort of were, given they were the same Legion and had usurped my friends, but I think it shouldn’t count,” Twilight argued, pouting cutely.

“Did this traitor hurt you because you are a threat to Chaos?” Vija asked, cocking her head slightly to one side.

“No, he was just a big jerk, that’s all.” Twilight snorted. “He didn’t think I was a threat at all. And then he died.”

“What happened to him?” the mutant asked, leaning forward slightly in anticipation.

“Friendship,” Twilight said, her voice turning strangely grim.

Vija leaned back again, an eyebrow arched skeptically.

“It’s more dangerous than you’d think,” the mare insisted, still looking very serious. “Is the Inquisitor your friend?”

“Hardly,” Vija replied, trying not to scoff outright. “He is my lord sponsor.”

“Meaning…?”

The girl grimaced. “People who look like me are not allowed to live in the Imperium normally. There are many on this very ship who believe my life is an unacceptable heresy that is best redeemed with holy flame.”

“I’ve heard of the Imperium’s treatment of mutants. And the Inquisitor saved you?”

Vija hesitated. “Well, yes, but…”

She trailed off. Twilight was watching with a polite but clearly intrigued smile. She looked up and glanced at the armsmen standing guard in the room. Ten faceless masks staring at her from behind glowering blue visors, holding lasrifles wired to their backpacks. The most familiar sort of companionship for her, but none the more comforting for it.

“I was born to a Navigator house,” Vija said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Do you know of them?”

“A little bit, yes,” Twilight replied. “A strain of sanctioned mutants with genetically heightened Warpsight who are needed to travel through the Empyrean, right? If I recall correctly they’re an essential component of the Imperium’s FTL travel networks and so the Navigator houses enjoy significant political and economic influence.”

“… Yes. That’s right,” Vija replied, reluctantly impressed. “These houses must breed new Navigators constantly, and some of them engage in experimental biomancy to perfect their stock. I am the result of one such experiment.”

“A successful experiment?” Twilight asked.

The mutant girl shook her head.

“I figured as much, but I didn’t want to be sound insensitive,” Twilight admitted.

“My eyes are… they see a great many things, but it’s too much. The subtle currents of the Warp elude me. I cannot concentrate on the immediate Empyrean region around me. My whole perception is much greater than that of a Navigator, and yet I cannot perform their vital task. I am a failure.” She clutched the rosary to her chest again. “Once it was clear that my eyes did other things, I was of little use to them. I was scheduled for a series of increasingly destructive experiments that would eventually kill me. Then…” her expression firmed. “Then the Inquisitor arrived. He had been given a tip, apparently, of my existence by retainers who wished to see me destroyed more quickly and decisively than the experimentations would manage. They thought my presence was a heresy and a threat, and sought to bring the judgment of the Imperium’s Inquisition upon the house.”

Twilight leaned in closer, totally engrossed. “What happened when he arrived?”

“When the Inquisitor arrived he studied the reports and took me away. Since then I’ve been with him, searching the Empyrean at his direction.” She raised a hand and gently rubbed at one of the eyelids on the right side of her face. “It is thanks to the Inquisitor’s protection that I yet live. But his sanction comes with the price of servitude.”

“Oh yeah, I know what that’s like,” Twilight giggled. “But you’re still not friends? You don’t trust him?”

“Trust? I have no right to such a luxury,” Vija said, looking away. “I do not make my own decisions.”

“You should,” the young Princess retorted. “Maybe you still can.”

Vija hesitated, glancing back at the purple pony.

“Servant or not, mutant or not, everyone should have a friend,” Twilight scooted closer, almost touching the woman. “Everyone needs someone you can trust and rely on. Even the genocidal, corrupted monstrosities back in the fleet have friends!”

Vija chewed her lip anxiously. She had so many questions now, but felt ashamed to ask them. That she was so intrigued by the prospect of companionship was a terrible weakness by itself. To feel this way from speaking briefly to some blasphemous purple alien…

A door slid open.

“Miss Sparkle, with me,” Gholth announced as he strode into the white veil and then out through the other side of it. He did not address Vija or make eye contact with either of them while he walked through the shrine toward a door on the opposite end.

Twilight hesitated, looking up at the mutant girl next to her. Gholth paused his stride, backed up into the veil perimeter, and then snapped his fingers sharply. Vija flinched and hung her head in submission, not uttering a word. Twilight frowned but did as instructed, trotting after the Inquisitor. The armsmen guarding the room turned and left, some retiring their shift and others following Gholth into the hall. Regil emerged a few seconds later, his face utterly ashen and fixed into a cold scowl.

While Twilight and Gholth left, the Apprentice Inquisitor stopped in front of Vija, removing a large pill from his pocket. “Here. The Inquisitor requests you search the Empyrean for any threats or impediments to our progress.”

The mutant took the pill carefully and then slipped it into her mouth, chewing it slowly. It had a revolting, distinctly chemical flavoring as it coated her tongue, and Vija felt an energetic sensation down her spine as it dissolved. The pills generated a euphoric rush amidst a surge of calories, and she could feel her heart start to race almost immediately. She did not need the substance to use her Warpsight, but Gholth sometimes used them to expedite and improve her assistance.

“Our progress… where are we going?” Vija asked, sitting down on a bench.

“Classified,” Regil said curtly. “You can simply explore the region around us, or focus on the ship itself, I suppose.” He snorted. “Do not strain yourself, mutant. I do not expect any serious challenge to our next berth, and if there were I would not expect you to predict it.”

Vija nodded miserably, and then her human eye closed. It was like a switch was flipped immediately, and all of her other mundane senses immediately went silent. She could no long smell the incense in the room or feel the coldness of the metal deck. The gentle tremors of the void ship, which she had grown quite used to over the years, gave way to a strange sensation like being carried along in a stream.

Her other eyes searched. Some gleamed with eldritch light. Some dilated. Some changed color, went completely white or black, or seem to roll backward in their sockets. One of them seemed to adopt a curious runic symbol over the iris, like the ritual patterns he’d seen from some of the more advanced psykers. The eyes shifted back and forth, up and down, searching independently (or randomly) to track whatever strange energies they each perceived.

Regil found the image grotesque, of course, but he waited calmly as her eyes performed their blasphemous duty. While more skeptical of Vija’s abilities than Gholth, the girl had picked out and located Twilight Sparkle; while he didn’t think much of the equine alien either, the chances of Vija imagining the “cutie mark” in a fever dream and then somehow tracking its interstellar location a week ahead of time by sheer coincidence was obviously impossible. He could admit there was something unique in her Warpsight, but he doubted it would be of any use without better direction. What was she supposed to see in the wake outside the gellar field?

Vija’s eyes started twitching to the side. One after another. Some of them remained oriented that way, staring to her right. More and more of them glanced in that direction, and her breath quickened. One of them pulsed with an eerie yellow light, and Regil’s hand twitched toward his laspistol.

“No… No… Not again… How…?” Vija mumbled, turning her head. Her body seemed to withdraw, and she gripped her shoulders with her arms. “They’re everywhere… Reflections of their prey… So… So many eyes… they’re still there…? How? HOW?”

Regil frowned. He placed his hand on his pistol properly, fingers wrapping around the grip.

“Shhh sh sh shhhh…” she made a whispering noise to herself, and then more twitching, staring, and pulsing. “They’re here… but I can’t… SEE it. Something… in the way. Driving it… a path… opening… to…”

One of her eyes bulged, swelling out of its socket like it was going to burst. It had a bright yellow pupil and was riddled with veins. It twitched back and forth, up and down, staring at something intensely that only it could see. A wisp of smoke started to leak from it, and Regil drew his sidearm.

“All right, that’s enough!” He grabbed Vija by the shoulder and shook her roughly, his other hand holding his weapon pointed at the ceiling.

Vija’s left eye snapped open, and she began shivering violently. The rosary she carried slipped from numb fingers, bouncing onto the floor at her feet. The eyes on the right side of her face rapidly returned to “normal,” with many of them closing and others losing whatever supernatural glow or trait they had briefly taken. Then she slowly turned to look at the apprentice Inquisitor with an expression of heightened trepidation.

Regil let go of her. “Well?” He did not holster the laspistol.

Vija raised a trembling hand to the right side of her face. “I… saw it again. The threads of fate winding through the tides. The hall of eyes! They were staring, watching, whis-”

“Expedite your report,” Regil said icily.

Vija flinched. She took a calming breath and then lowered her head, searching for her dropped rosary. She found it and reached down toward the floor, only for the man in front of her to suddenly bat it away with the side of his boot.

“The Emperor’s word is not yours, mutant, and I dislike it when you profane His holy symbols with your touch,” Regil said, his voice increasingly grim. “Your salvation will not come through prayer, but SERVICE, so get on with it.”

Vija choked back a terrified sob, wringing her hands anxiously. After several deep breaths, she managed to compose her thoughts well enough to speak.

“The trail that led us… to the space station. It’s still there. It reaches further, now. I don’t understand, but they know,” she said with a whimper.

“Who is THEY?” Regil demanded.

Vija shook her head. “I don’t know. Daemons, maybe? It doesn’t feel like it.”

“So some unknown THING knows something. What is it they’ve determined?” Regil asked.

“They’re… I think… they’re hunting her still. The Light. It was hard to make out. Something shielding it. Like trying to eavesdrop on a conversation in an armored vehicle.”

“Really? And where did they divine her presence?” Regil asked.

Vija looked away, trembling.

“… Well? Your other observation tracked her to Ishrem. Where does this presence sense is her next location?” Regil demanded. “Why do you hesitate?”

“The next location is… this… this ship. Twilight Sparkle is here,” Vija said, looking up into Regil’s eyes.

He stared back blankly, and then massaged his forehead with his free hand. “’They’ have identified the Aesir’s Justice?”

“Well… no. It doesn’t quite… work like that,” Vija admitted, shivering.

“Then ‘they’ have located us within the Warp? Is there a need to retreat to realspace?”

“I… I don’t think so, no. The whispers within the tides didn’t-”

“Then what PRECISELY is the nature of the threat?!” the Apprentice boomed. “I don’t want to hear more of your arcane mumbling! The Inquisitor tolerates your presence because your intelligence is ACTIONABLE! What is the matter?!”

Vija hung her head miserably. Part of the problem with her vision was that it was difficult to interpret and prone to interference, but another was that Regil had shaken her out of it too early. Nonetheless, she didn’t dare blame him for the failure. It wasn’t as if she could promise better results if she tried again.

“… Useless,” Regil hissed, finally holstering his laspistol. “It is a black mark against the Inquisitor that he seeks aliens and mutants to aid his machinations, and another that he sanctions such incapable ones,” he turned toward where the Imperial rosary had fallen and picked it up off the deck. “Remain here. I will have the guards escort you to your room until you are needed.” Regil turned an acidic glare on the girl as he pocketed the rosary, and then headed for the hallway exit. “As such, you should expect to remain there until the Inquisitor departs my ship.”

“Yes… Of course, my Lord,” Vija said weakly.

The doors had slid shut and locked before she’d finished the sentence.

Inquisition battlecruiser Aesir’s Justice
Deck 3, section 8

A set of heavy blast doors began their long unlocking procedure, and Twilight looked up at one of the armored women standing guard. The Sister of Battle looked down at the purple mare with a long, silent stare, her expression hidden by the helmet of her power armor. Then she aimed her boltgun directly at Twilight’s face. The pony gasped and recoiled in surprise, and Gholth turned sharply to address the warrior.

“Put your weapon DOWN, soldier,” the Inquisitor growled, his eye glinting ever so slightly with an eldritch glow. “What exactly has this creature done to provoke your ire?”

The Sororitas obeyed his command immediately and lowered her boltgun, but she kept staring at Twilight. “It should be manacled.”

“What? Why?” Gholth asked, his tone quite impatient. “Miss Sparkle’s wings are immobilized and her psychic powers disabled. Are you afraid she’s going to KICK you?”

“It can still flee freely if it wishes,” the Sister replied.

“Flee to WHERE? This is your ship!” Twilight retorted before Gholth could.

Twilight was actually hoping to goad the Sister into giving her some good ideas for escaping or hiding, but the woman instead straightened up and finally broke eye contact (or visor contact, as it were).

“Simply musing aloud, Lord Inquisitor. My apologies for the distraction.” She did not sound like she was sorry.

The blast door finished opening with a distinct, heavy thud, and Gholth quickly led Twilight into the hallway beyond while casting a withering glare over his shoulder. Twilight immediately guessed that this section of the ship was not the sort that saw a great deal of casual traffic, judging not only by the heavier security but also by the look of the doors beyond it. There were gun turrets mounted in the ceilings, all the doors had additional mag-locks, and there was a lot of warning text and chevrons stamped onto the walls.

Twilight eventually looked up at Gholth. “I thought your Apprentice was pretty hostile, but the crew of your ship don’t seem to like you much either.”

Gholth released a grim chuckle. “Regil is not my Apprentice, and this is not my ship,” he admitted.

“Really? I guess that makes sense, given how reluctant he is to defer to you…” Twilight mumbled. “So whose Apprentice is he, then? Are they on this ship?”

“Ah ah ah, no more of that, now,” Gholth chided the pony next to him. “I won’t be interrogated about my allies, Miss Sparkle. You will content yourself with what I divulge, and seek nothing more. This is part of your training.”

Twilight looked rather offended at the idea, but the Inquisitor continued. “I have decided to inform you of my relationship with Apprentice Regil and this vessel because it is immediately relevant. After speaking to him at length about the potential risks and benefits, it has been decided that you are to be locked in stasis for the duration of our trip through the Warp.”

Twilight frowned, remembering an overview of that particular technology from the Company archives. “So I’ll be frozen in time until we get to wherever we’re going? Why?”

The Inquisitor seemed annoyed at the question at the end, but he answered anyway. “To be blunt, the Apprentice and the Adeptus Sororitas find your active presence on this vessel intolerable, and do not trust my countermeasures to restrain you. Stasis was the most obvious compromise to ensure you remain unharmed yet unable to sabotage anything.” He pressed a hand against a red screen, and then a humming sound came from the adjacent room. “I would have preferred conducting some psionics exercises and evaluations right away, but it is also to our benefit if this project proceeds in more favorable environs.”

Gholth entered the room, which was a tiny cell that could have accommodated but a few humans standing. Dominating one side was a machine that Twilight presumed was the stasis device: It had a glassine capsule covering that looked large enough to accommodate a Space Marine, built over a metal bed covered in bulbs and wires that leaned up against the wall. A visible mist leaked from the device, and Twilight felt colder just looking at it.

The Inquisitor tapped at a control panel for a few seconds. “Enter the vessel, Miss Sparkle, and you’ll be spared a tedious and stressful week of Regil’s complaints and being threatened by random guards. I will awaken you when we have reached our destination. For you, it will seem as if I had turned the device on and off as quickly as I could flip the switch.”

With a loud click and hiss, the glassine shielding slid open. Underneath was an uneven cushion extending from the bottom to the top of the vessel, surrounded by projection nodes. It was clearly not made for anything shaped like a pony, but at least it was big enough.

“It will seem like that if nothing goes wrong, you mean,” Twilight corrected, stepping up to the machine.

The Inquisitor raised his eyebrow. “And what do you imagine might happen to go wrong?” he asked, crossing his arms over his breastplate.

Twilight looked up at him. “They’re going to come for me, you know.”

“… The daemons?” Gholth guessed.

“No,” Twilight replied. “Well, actually, yes, that’s a very good guess and at least as likely as what I was talking about. But no.” The mare coughed lightly into a hoof, and then looked back up. “My friends. They’re coming. You can’t stop them.”

“Doubtful,” Gholth said with a patronizing smile. “You will be brought to my laboratoriums, Miss Sparkle. And after some training and study, you will become humanity’s holy sword: a vessel of the Emperor’s wrath that strikes down those abominations which thinks themselves immortal. Now. Enter the machine.”

Twilight said nothing further, climbing into the bed and laying on her side. It sat at a rather severe incline, and she couldn’t “stand” nearly as well as a human, but when the glassine cover descended it covered her without difficulty.

The projectors above and around her pulsed.

Then the projectors pulsed again.

Twilight blinked, wondering if the machine had malfunctioned. A descending hum was coming from the machine around her, as if it were powering down. Several clicks came from the glassine shield covering her and sealing her inside the stasis device.

It then occurred to her that the machine had in fact worked perfectly. The shielding opened, and mist – a curious, abundant, and uncomfortable byproduct of this procedure, apparently – started leaking out of the bed onto the floor.

“Did you enjoy your rest, Miss Sparkle?” Inquisitor Gholth asked.

The purple pony frowned. “No, not really. I don’t think I slept at all, technically.” She hopped out onto the floor, testing her limbs. “I think my wings are starting to cramp, though. Can you unbind them for a bit? There isn’t even anywhere to fly off in here.”

“No,” Gholth said curtly, walking out the open doorway. “This way, Miss Sparkle.”

Twilight made an inarticulate growling noise and followed. The ship was shuddering slightly, and she was pleased to see that the heavy blast doors protecting this section of the ship were already open this time. She didn’t bother to make eye contact as she and Gholth strode briskly past the guards, and then the Inquisitor took a sharp right down another major artery of the vessel.

“Are we back in realspace?” Twilight asked while they walked.

“No. But soon,” Gholth assured her.

“May I know what system we’re approaching?”

“You needn’t worry about such trifles, Miss Sparkle,” the Inquisitor assured her. “You’ll see the world soon enough.”

Ignoring the pony’s aggravated, one-eyed glare, Gholth made another turn and approached another guarded door. The Sisters of Battle keeping watch straightened on his approach, although their visors lingered on the purple creature following him.

“Lord Inquisitor. The Captain is conducting our Warp exit. The Navigator has almost completed the ritual,” one of the warriors said, inclining her head.

“Good. My men are already making preparations to depart,” Gholth said. “Open the door to the bridge.”

Two of the power-armored women shared a glanced, and then faced the man once more. “We were instructed not to let anyone enter the-”

“And I am instructing you to open the doors and let us in,” Gholth interrupted. “Think wisely on which order you obey.”

The Sisters did not hesitate further. One turned to a console, and after a few seconds the double-doors slid open. Gholth stepped through without another word, and Twilight followed closely.

The bridge of Aesir’s Justice was very different from that of the Harvest of Steel, which was hardly a surprise. An oblong island was raised in the middle of the cavernous room, surrounded by two stories’ worth of cogitator banks and control consoles. A cluster of screens covered the front of the room, dominated by a central monitor that must have been at least 20 feet tall and half again that in length.

On the central island sat a woman in large chair. Twilight had to guess she was the ship’s Captain, judging by her post and outfit, which was much more well-decorated than the rest of the bridge officers. Next to the chair stood a similarly well-decorated Sister of Battle Twilight had never seen before, but Gholth knew as Palatine Arthwin. Looming above and behind the Captain’s chair was a much larger and more elaborate throne covered in candles and purity seals. Upon this throne sat the Apprentice Inquisitor Regil.

Twilight spotted him right away, and he her. The Apprentice scowled, and then directed his displeased expression toward the Inquisitor, but did not interrupt; the Captain was speaking with the Navigator on one of the smaller frontal screens. Most of the rest of the bridge crew did not notice the intrusion, being too busy with their own preparations for Warp exit. Tech-clergy swung censers of incense and prayed to the cogitators and crewmen labored over control panels (while also praying to the cogitators, but less formally).

The ship began to groan and the deck under Twilight’s hooves started to shudder. The Navigator’s voice shrank to a whisper, barely noticeable over the ruckus by the rest of the bridge crew. The shuddering intensified.

“We are beginning detranslation! All systems nominal! Emperor, deliver us from the sea of souls!” shouted the Captain.

The process for a normal ship to exit the Warp was quite different from that of the Harvest, Twilight observed. The process was clearly more difficult, with the vessel shaking much more than the daemon-ship ever had. Frost started appearing on the bulkheads despite the perfectly normal temperatures inside. Most of the crew, not afforded large, secure chairs like the Captain, braced themselves against something, including the Inquisitor. Twilight had an easier time with four legs, but she was surprised by the violence with which the Warp released the ship.

“Detranslation cycle complete. Gellar field is disengaged,” announced a Techpriest as the shuddering finally stopped. “We have arrived.”

The large screen flickered, and then blinked on. A distant sphere of blue flame was in the center of the image, and a much smaller – but clearly much closer – brown planet was sitting between the system’s star and the ship. Data-screed poured across several of the secondary monitors, while others switched to additional scopes to pick out particular details of the system. Orbital stations, moons, cities, fleets. Twilight was deeply interested in these displays, but Gholth clasped his hands behind his back and promptly began giving orders to the crew.

“Contact the system patrol fleet immediately and submit authorization codes. We require escort to nav-point omega,” the Inquisitor declared. “Advance in-system with void shields up and periodic augury scans. We’re almost there, but we must keep our guard up.”

Some of the crew visibly resented being ordered by the man in the pit with them, but they went to work immediately. Twilight nudged her head toward the planet on the screen.

“Is that my new home?” she asked.

“Your new home is by my side, Miss Sparkle, no matter where I take you,” Gholth explained. “This world will host us for a time, but we have SO much to do…” Then he looked up at the command throne, locking his eye with its occupant. “Just a little further, Apprentice, and you will be rid of me at last. But before I depart I have a message to your master as thanks for her aid, and a warning for what may come next. I-”

The Navigator screamed.

Everyone on the bridge fell silent, including the Inquisitor. A painful, wheezing rasp came from the man in the monitor, and his third eye was wide open, staring up at nothing. The Navigator shrank back in his chair, an expression of shock and horror written across his features.

“Im... Impossible. No, it… NO! STAY BACK!! IT’S COMING!!” the Navigator howled.

“What’s coming?” Regil demanded, standing up from the Command Throne. “Get ahold of yourself!”

“My Lord! We’re reading another Warp breach nearby!” shouted a crewman.

“Where? From what?!” the Captain demanded.

Before anyone could answer her a deep, rainbow-colored crack opened in space ahead of Aesir’s Justice and then yawned open. The crew watched, dumbfounded, as a massive void ship erupted from the breach directly perpendicular to the Aesir’s path. The vessel was huge, and seemed somewhat familiar to the augury crew, but there was only one individual who recognized it immediately.

“Told you they’d find me,” said Twilight Sparkle, unable to suppress a delighted grin.

Harvest of Steel
Bridge

“Proximity alert! Enemy vessel within 1,000 meters!”

“Shields are up. Weapons primed. Defensive turrets are active.”

“Teleportarium relay is charged. Boarding pods loaded. Combat crews awaiting orders.”

“The great eye opens! The Harvest sees what has been lost! It HUNGERS!! Find it! Take it! KILL THOSE WHO TOOK IT!!”

Warsmith Solon regarded the screaming, mummified crewman, and then looked down at the center of the bridge. The Destiny Cube was suspended within a crucible of probes and wires, and electric arcs hummed noisily as they lashed between the octahedron’s corners and the machine’s prongs. On the deck below the device sat Trixie, a thick bundle of cabling plugged into the back of her neck and a look of intense concentration on her face.

“Well done, Missh Lulamoon. It sheemsh you were correct,” Solon said with a grim chuckle.

“Told you T-Trixie would find her,” the pony magician said, her voice cracking slightly from exertion.

The Warsmith lifted his right arm attachment, which was clearly some kind of laser but had a focusing apparatus that looked more like an egg beater. “ALL COMBAT CREWSH, PREPARE TO BOARD!! FIND SHPARKLE AND RETURN HER TO THE FLAGSHIP!! IRON WITHIN!! IRON WITHOUT!!”

Author's Note

Now that's a cliffhanger!

In-chapter art by Charlot, while the above little icon is by Loom!

Friendship is Magic

Black Horizons
By SFaccountant

Chapter 11
Friendship is Magic

Harvest of Steel
Section 8 mess hall

“… and then, with a mere gesture, Lord Serith lifted the child up in the air, and it was revealed that it had a third arm! None of us really knew what that meant at first except for the pilot, but we soon learned that we had unwittingly ventured into the lair of a Genestealer Cult! A hive of brainwashed humans and aliens hiding underground and breeding an army! An insidious, wicked power that is not NEARLY as sexy as it sounds!”

Trixie stood upon one of the mess hall tables, clad in her armor but without her helmet and pacing back and forth over the top. A crowd of ponies and humans were gathered around her, their eyes wide as they hung onto every word. Suuna sat at the end of the table, eating quietly and looking slightly embarrassed to hear their recent adventure narrated.

The unicorn suddenly reared up. “TREACHERY!! The cult turned on Trixie in an instant, threatening to bury us in rubble unless we surrendered! But in a cunning act of double-treachery, we defeated the brainwashed hobos’ trap and escaped with the Destiny Cube!”

“Destiny Cube… what? What’s a Destiny Cube?” Rainbow Dash asked, using her wing to scratch her head.

The pegasus was sitting with Fluttershy outside the crowd of spectators, eating her usual lunch of nutrient gruel and recycled water. The mares were not wearing their power armor, and Rainbow Dash again boasted several med-patches and bandage wrappings. Her left foreleg was especially well-covered, such that she could barely bend it. Fluttershy, in contrast, had nothing but a small cross patch on her forehead.

“Isn’t she talking about the artifact?” Fluttershy asked, poking sadly at her bowl of steamed greens with a fork. While she was loathe to complain under any circumstances, she missed the quality cuisine of her hometown much more than her squadmates.

“It’s called the ‘destiny cube?’ I don’t remember that,” Rainbow mumbled.

“I think she just made up the name,” the other pegasus admitted, “like she made up the pitched firefight against Sentinel walkers and that duel against Miss Whyd to gain entry to the sanctuary.”

“Oh, okay.” Rainbow shrugged, winced at the throbbing pain in her shoulder, and then scooped up her cup with her wing. “I guess it doesn’t matter. She can’t remember what actually happened after the crash and before we met the cultist lady, right? I’m kind of peeved she forgot I took down a bomber, but the part with the Sentinels was pretty awesome!”

“… I’m still really worried about what happened to her,” Fluttershy mumbled, squirming in place. “Doctor Heartthrob agreed with my diagnosis of her wound and confirmed that she was never infected by the Tyranids, but nobody can get Serith to explain himself.”

Rainbow snorted and put down the tin cup, now drained of water. “I don’t know what to say. She looks fine, sounds fine, and her personality hasn’t changed a bit. Speaking as somepony with experience in brain damage, you don’t get off any easier than that.”

Fluttershy didn’t respond right away, listening to Trixie relate a (greatly embellished) account of the Equinoughts fighting through a Genestealer ambush. Then she slowly turned to look at Rainbow Dash, her forehead creased deeply in concern.

“Yeah, so… that thing the big Genestealer does where it stares at you and you just kind of feel your body shut down? Has some side effects,” Rainbow admitted, her ears pinning back. “I think I’m mostly okay, but AJ had to remind me who that little orange kid is in some of the pict-captures of her and Rarity’s sisters.”

Fluttershy winced and covered her face with her wings.

“Little did we know, even as Lord Serith scoured the mind of Trixie’s prisoner, that the insidious aliens had already laid their trap!” Trixie announced, a dramatic sting playing from the vox node on her gorget. “One of their own had infiltrated our team! A carrier of the cruel alien plague that turns your mind and body against your friends and allies!”

Gasps rolled through the crowd.

“This sabotage was hidden so well that even the victim was not aware, reacting with true shock and horror at the revelation of the cult! A ticking time bomb waiting to be delivered into the very heart of the fleet! And yet the driver accused TRIXIE of being infected! Pfeh!”

“Well it obviously wasn’t you since you’re here now,” said a man in the crowd, “but at the time it does sound pretty reasonable to think it was you.”

“Was it Chrysalis?” a bright yellow pegasus asked. “I haven’t seen her since we left Gessheim. Well… probably haven’t. I suppose we can’t really be sure, huh?”

“Please hold all questions for after Trixie is done,” the magician said, clearly aggravated, “or better yet, hold them even longer, until after Trixie leaves. Moving on…”

Trixie’s horn lit up, and the lumens above suddenly flickered and turned off, briefly casting the mess hall in darkness. The crowd recoiled in surprise and confusion. Then they turned back on, and the crowd shrieked as they found themselves staring up into a giant, snarling Genestealer.

“TERROR stalked those cracked, abandoned halls, creeping after our heroes!” Trixie continued even while her audience scrambled away from the hololith. “Vile aliens were joined by their twisted brothers! Hateful, tormented men and women haunted by the cruel genesis that had been forced upon their parents! Forever doomed to be slaves to the monster at the heart of this labyrinth!”

A couple more hololiths appeared to join the Purestrain Genestealer. These ones were hybrids, wearing dirty laborers’ garments and carrying salvaged weapons. One had sharp, curved teeth and a long tongue that hung out of the side of its mouth, while the other had a third arm that held a pistol while his other, larger hands gripped a pair of knives.

“Trixie fortified herself with magic and joined the fray as the Equinoughts advanced into the darkness of the underhive! Enemies swarmed our positions, desperate to block our progress! We burned a path through their barricades and smashed them aside in a harrowing race against time, knowing that across the ruins, the enemy was regrouping, rearming, and converging! And then, at last, Trixie found it: the Patriarch! The dastardly alien mastermind that had inflicted this cruel fate on the hapless citizens of the Imperium!”

“You weren’t even there for that battle!” Rainbow Dash interjected.

“Trixie will not be accepting editor commentary at this time, thank you,” the magician retorted before immediately slipping back into her narration. “Bigger than a Space Marine, with claws like swords and a mind empowered by an unfathomable intellect, the alien monster was more ferocious than any Ork and more cunning than any daemon! Its will invaded our own, taunting us with visions of misery and carnage!”

The hololiths vanished and a silhouette of shadowy blue appeared, looming over the audience. A pair of gleaming eyes like windows of fire were set in the face, and they shifted left and right as if slowly studying the crowd. The ponies in the audience shuffled backward nervously, and some of them ducked behind the legs of the humans watching with them.

“The beast was mighty, and we fought on its own home turf. But before Trixie’s wit, the Warsmith’s weapons, and – less importantly – the power of friendship, the Patriarch found itself overmatched!”

A series of flashing projectiles bombarded the hololith from nowhere, complete with Pchoo Pchoo noises for effect. The shadowy enemy staggered to its knees, and then a spear of pink magic pierced its back from behind, breaking it into a hundred motes of light.

“VICTORY!! The Patriarch was no more! His many cultist drones scattered throughout the underhive were STUNNED as the psychic shock of its death reverberated through the Warp, pummeling their puny minds with the anguish of its final moments! Despair filled the enemy, and they fled in terror and confusion!”

“Wait, what about the person who was secretly on their side? Didn’t they try to stop you?” a mare asked.

Trixie deflated, extremely annoyed at having her tale interrupted again. “No. As a matter of fact, THAT sub-plot concluded with a harrowing assassination attempt on the Warsmith, which Trixie will GET TO if you nattering pests will pipe down!”

“You weren’t there for that part, either!” Rainbow complained.

Trixie’s eye twitched and her ears pinned back. Then she glanced at Suuna and tilted her head sharply toward the cyan heckler. Suuna stood up and shuffled over to the table nervously, leaning over the pegasi to whisper into Rainbow’s ear.

“Could you leave, please? You’re being very disruptive and Miss Trixie doesn’t seem to appreciate the criticism,” the servant said with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Rainbow huffed and gulped down the rest of her water, and then launched herself toward the exit. Fluttershy squeaked timidly and followed, and the mares quickly exited into the hall.

“It sure is boring around here for a monster ship full of crazy cyborgs,” Rainbow Dash opined while they trotted past the other feed halls. “I hope we find another planet soon!”

“I… don’t hope that,” Fluttershy said, cringing. “These missions are getting harder and scarier. We barely even made it onto the surface last time!”

“But we DID! And it was awesome!” Rainbow insisted, doing a small somersault in the air. “We just need to make sure Gaela comes with us next time. Having Chrysalis turn into Gaela does NOT cut it.” Then she stopped, touching a hoof to her chin. “In fact, maybe we should get her linked up with Equinought Squadron officially?”

“No,” Fluttershy said immediately.

“But then we wouldn’t have to hope she gets assigned to our team when we get sent on a mission!” Rainbow protested. “Oh! We can get her a neat icon for her shoulder pad, like we have with our cutie marks! That would be cool!”

Fluttershy silently shook her head, her feathers bristling along her wings.

“What do you think her cutie mark would be if she had one? Like a wrench or a drill, maybe? Or an axe splitting an alien’s face open? I think it would be like the Chaos ponies with cutie marks that have the same theme in each cult but are still different, so probably some kind of tool.”

“THE MASTER SPEAKS!!”

Fluttershy shrieked and bolted, immediately crashing into Rainbow Dash. The pegasi tumbled to the ground in a flailing tangle of limbs and flying feathers, and Rainbow tried to get her meeker friend under control.

“Wait! Stop! Relax! It’s just one of those weird crew mummies in the wall!” Rainbow shouted, her voice muffled from Fluttershy repeatedly swatting her in the face with her flapping wings. After a few seconds Fluttershy calmed down enough to freeze up rather than flee, and Rainbow glared up at the withered man locked into an alcove ahead of them.

“Phil, could you not do the spooky howly shout to get our attention? It’s really getting stale,” the speedster complained.

“You were going to walk by me otherwise,” the man said, facing straight ahead and staring at nothing but moderating his volume this time. Numerous tubes and cables were drilled into the back of his head and coiled around his withered limbs, and they writhed like snakes as he spoke.

“You can just say ‘hey guys, I have a message for you.’ It’s okay, we’ll hear you,” Rainbow sighed and fully disentangled herself from Fluttershy. “So what’s up?”

“YOU ARE CALLED TO THE DEEPEST TEMPLE IN THE HEART OF THE HARVEST OF STEEL,” the crewman boomed, his voice returning to its dramatic bellow. “OUR SERVANTS PLUMB THE SECRETS OF THE ARTIFACT, AND YOU WILL STAND VIGIL!!”

Fluttershy flinched badly, but did not run this time. Rainbow Dash sighed again. “Okay, we get it. Volume down, Phil. Where is the deepest temple? Is it like in the underdecks or within the infected quadrants or something like that?”

“It is approximately 200 meters toward the bow, one deck above. When you reach the primary defense pylon hang a left and look for the enormous iron Chaos Stars. You can’t miss it,” the mummy explained in a slightly subdued tone.

“Got it. Thanks.” Rainbow craned her neck around. “Fluttershy, are you good? I want to check and see if they found anything cool with the Destiny Cube.”

Fluttershy timidly looked up at the twisted figure locked in the wall above them, partially hiding behind her wing. “… Phil?”

“Yeah. That’s his name,” Rainbow Dash said with a shrug. “Well, actually it’s some really long weird thing with a ton of vowels but it’s Phil for short.”

“… Destiny Cube?” Phil asked.

“Yeah. It’s called the Destiny Cube now,” Rainbow explained, turning to face the entombed man. “We can’t just keep calling it ‘the artifact!’ What if we steal more weird psychic stuff during the other pirating raids? It would get confusing.”

“These… people… have names? I never heard anyone else address them like that,” Fluttershy said anxiously.

“Yeah, I know! A lot of people just treat them like they’re some kind of horrible cogitator consoles or something but they totally have names! Me and Pinkie asked them! And then she gave new names to the ones who forgot.”

“Don’t cubes have six sides?” Phil asked, lights dancing across the metal visor implant bolted over his eyes. “The Destiny Cube has eight.”

“Okay, NERD,” Rainbow Dash scoffed, fully pulling Fluttershy up off the ground, “you come up with something better, then.”

“THE HARVEST SPEAKS!!” Phil boomed again, once again causing Fluttershy to pin herself to the floor and spread her wings over her face. “VOICES FROM BEYOND THE GATES HAVE WHISPERED BLACK CIPHER! HEAR THE NAME OF THE CURSED HOUND OF ARRTHUL! CAN’NAAN! CAN’NAAN! CAN’NAAAAN!!”

“Nah, I like Destiny Cube better. Now stop yelling; you’re freaking out Fluttershy,” Rainbow huffed, again lifting Fluttershy upright. “Oh! Do you know where Erin is? Erin Whyd. Maybe she wants to see it too.”

Phil’s head lurched backward, and a snarl of rage and agony that sounded distinctly inhuman erupted from his throat. Then he slumped forward in the alcove, his limp body suspended entirely by the cabling that imprisoned him. Fluttershy hid behind Rainbow Dash the entire time, shielding herself behind the other mare’s wing.

“… She is in storage hall E-962 on sub-deck 3,” the crewman said, breathing heavily.

“Did… that hurt?” Fluttershy asked cautiously.

“Always,” Phil hissed.

“Thanks, Phil! C’mon Shy, let’s go get her!” Rainbow Dash said, immediately charging into a gallop. Fluttershy yelped and raced after her friend, not wanting to be left alone with the tormented mummy locked in the bulkhead.

Harvest of Steel
storage hall E-962

“Let’s see here… I’m seeing a lot of combat training. Formal, informal, plus running security and survival ops… for who, exactly?”

Erin seemed almost startled at the question, and she sat up straighter in her chair. “It was for the refugee sanctuary. Or… Or rather, a cult of brainwashed humans serving an alien mastermind that was convincingly disguised as a refugee sanctuary.”

The pony at the desk nodded absently while she read a holo-screen projected on the right side of the desk. She was a gray earth pony with a short mane and an unusually fluffy chest and ears, and she wore a respirator mask and vest in addition to the ubiquitous Chaos Star amulet around her neck. A stylus was strapped to her hoof for writing, and judging by the various scrolls and dataslates scattered over her work area, she wrote a lot.

Erin was no longer perplexed by the concept of ponies serving in a war fleet, but it made the experience of being interviewed by one no less surreal. Behind her, guarding the door, was an Iron Warrior: a giant in baroque gunmetal plate mail with one of the shoulder pads carved into an enormous golden skull. His chainsword was a massive double-edged weapon much larger than the usual models she had seen in the Imperial military, and painted in black and yellow warning chevrons on each side. This wasn’t Erin’s first time being questioned by an equine or stared down by a Chaos Space Marine, but now that she wasn’t running for her life she could much better appreciate the absurd contrast between the two pirates in the room with her.

“Hmm… deserter, are you? Well that’s all right.” The mare looked up from the dataslate. “Any particular reason why?”

“Well, Miss Bracer, you see…” Erin began uncomfortably.

“Please, call me Jewel,” Jewel Bracer interrupted. “You’re going to spend the rest of your time here going ‘yes my Lord,’ and ‘as you command, Magos,’ and such. You don’t have to talk to us little ponies with such a stiff back.”

“Okay… Jewel,” the refugee took a deep breath before she continued. “The Imperial military never quite sat well with me, I suppose. Way too much ‘give your life for the Emperor’ and too little ‘protect your planet and your family from marauding aliens.’ And, well, look where it got us. The marauding aliens stormed through the system and a lot of us ‘gave our lives to the Emperor’ for no reason.”

“And that’s why you fled?” Jewel asked, arching an eyebrow.

“… No,” Erin sighed. “That’s why I got stuck with some Junior Officer doing remedial disciplinary training. There… was an incident. He beat me. I ended up hurting him back. Not badly, but bad enough that I would have been sent to the mines or the servitor chirurgeon. I didn’t want that, so I fled. I was going to join a smuggler team, but it turns out they’re more picky about new recruits than I expected and thought I might be an informant.”

Her expression darkened noticeably as she recounted the next part of her story. “The refuge took me in eagerly. Lady Nacellus was nothing but kind, and never seemed to suspect me of anything. It seemed strange, but very fortunate back then. It… It makes more sense now.”

“Why do you think you weren’t infected?” Jewel Bracer asked, scratching at the chin of her mask. “This isn’t an interview question, by the way, I’m just curious after seeing the mission brief. You were in a position of some power, right? At the very least you knew your way around a gun. You were obviously in a better position to stop them than most.”

“Well… I don’t know much about the cult, despite having lived with them for a year, but as I understand it the… corruption or whatever… it’s spread through those four-armed xenos capturing and infecting a victim. That and… and through sex with an infected victim.”

“Ah.” Jewel tapped the tips of her hooves together, speaking delicately. “So you weren’t very popular, I take it?”

Erin chuckled at that and shook her head. “The cultists were a randy bunch and they propositioned me plenty. I always refused. I don’t really like men.”

Jewel quirked an eyebrow.

“Er, can I ask you a question?” Erin said, eager to change topics. “How many of you… ponies live in the fleet with the her-ah, excuse me-Chaos worshipers? Are you Chaos cultists too?”

“There are 718 ponies that are formally under the control the 38th Company as volunteers, conscripts, or allied units under our jurisdiction, 371 of whom are deployed with the fleet,” Jewel Bracer replied. “The majority of the deployment is on this ship, the Harvest of Steel, although there are a few dozen scattered among the other craft. As for being cultists, the vast majority of us are not worshipers of Chaos,” Jewel explained, rattling off the numbers with a brief glance at the holo-screen next to her. “There are some who have joined the cults, but it’s not really advisable. They’re not exactly social clubs.”

“Granting your soul to Chaos is one of the few routes to power available for your kind,” interjected the Iron Warrior on guard. “The dark gods are patrons of incredible might and knowledge, and inevitably the masters of this universe. You would be wise to pay them tribute.”

“I’m a middle manager, I don’t need poison breath or tentacles,” Jewel grumbled.

“There are other gifts! You could get a daemonic familiar,” the Chaos Marine argued.

“ANYWAY,” Jewel Bracer continued to Erin, “it’s kind of a long story, but we Equestrians owe a big debt to the Iron Warriors, so many of us serve them here or back on our planet.”

“Is it… a good life? Working for Chaos?” Erin asked, glancing back at the Chaos Space Marine.

“No,” Jewel said without hesitation.

“You seem to get along fine,” the guard interjected again.

“The other day I was almost torn apart by an alien infiltrator and had to talk down a disgruntled Astartes from murdering my work crew!” Jewel complained. “Look, I’ll take service to Chaos over an Ork slave pit or being a serf of the Tau but you guys have some SEVERE labor hazards around here!”

The mare huffed and quickly returned to the interview. “So! I don’t think you’re a good fit for the Merchant Corp since you didn’t finish your training OR pass muster with smuggling crews, which would be the most valuable references, and the only person who might have vouched for your combat record was murdered before we left the system. You also don’t have any professional skills of obvious use on a void ship. I think you’re looking at a boilerplate mercenary or menial signing, unless you wish to separate at our next destination.”

Erin quirked an eyebrow. “I can… separate? You’ll let me leave when we reach the next system? Really?”

“Of course,” answered the guard. “You’ve committed no offense to us, and we have no use for passengers who do not serve the fleet.” He briefly lifted his chainsword to heft it over his shoulder while he glared down at her. “Whether you depart to a station or out the airlock will be decided upon arrival.”

“Could you NOT?” Jewel Bracer asked the Iron Warrior hotly, her eyes narrowing while Erin cringed.

“Threats are good for discipline,” the Chaos Marine retorted.

A lumen flashed behind the guard, and then a voice came from the hallway beyond the door. “Yo! Is Erin here? I wanna talk to her!”

The Iron Warrior turned around and stepped up to the entrance, readying his weapon. “Whyd has an appointment. Begone.”

“Dude, relax, it’s me,” Rainbow said, banging a hoof on the door. “C’mon, lemme in! We don’t have a lot of time!”

Jewel Bracer sighed and left the desk to open the door. Erin stayed where she was, fascinated by the encounter and anxious about speaking up in the presence of an Astartes. Jewel tapped a lever near the floor – a recent modification for those doors that the ponies used frequently – and the metal barrier lifted.

“What is it, Miss Dash?” Jewel Bracer asked once the way was clear. “We’re in the middle of an initial evaluation.”

Rainbow Dash immediately jumped into the air to hover over the other pony. “Yo, Erin! They’re gonna do something cool with the Destiny Cube! You should come watch!”

“What’s a ‘destiny cube?’” the refugee asked.

“She means the artifact from Ulaisse,” Fluttershy explained, poking her head in briefly. “They’ve been studying it.”

Jewel Bracer tapped the guard on his leg and then pointed a hoof at Rainbow Dash. The Astarte’s hand lashed out like a viper, seizing Rainbow by the back of her neck, just above her shoulders. He pushed her back down the floor, and Rainbow Dash yelped as she found herself once again face-to-face with Jewel Bracer.

“We’re in the middle of an evaluation. This is important! She can go play around with magic cubes after we’ve got her sorted and assigned!” Jewel berated the pegasus.

“It’s actually an octahedron, not a cube,” Fluttershy interjected, still sheltering next to the doorway.

“Whatever!” Jewel snapped, causing the meeker mare to squeak and duck away. “Come back later!”

Rainbow grunted painfully under the grip of the Iron Warrior. “That’ll take too long! Just put her with those guys that get trained with Tau guns! The Fire Lancers!”

“That’s a veteran unit! What qualifications does someone who bounced out of basic training have?” Jewel protested.

“I did run an underground colony’s security team for most of a standard year and have at least thirteen kills in my career, including a Genestealer and an assisted takedown of a Tyranid Cult Patriarch,” Erin said. “I may have dropped out of the Militarum regimen, but I’d place my combat record against any human merc you have here.”

Jewel Bracer hesitated. “Well, that’s… good. But the Fire Lancers are xenotech-equipped soldiers. Do you have any experience with exotic alien weapons? Or any alien technology at all?”

“Pst! Say yes!” Rainbow hissed loudly enough for everyone to hear her.

Erin sighed. “No, I have no experience with foreign tech. Never even got a training mission against Ork thugs in the deep thickets. The closest thing to xeno weapon exposure was seeing her weird Eldar gun in action,” she explained, pointing to Rainbow Dash. “I’ve also killed several aliens recently, if that makes any difference.”

“I’ll take it,” Jewel Bracer said, trotting back to her desk. “You can let go of Miss Dash now, my Lord.”

A dusty snort came from the Iron Warrior, and he finally released Rainbow Dash and stood up straight. Far from looking anxious or relieved, the pegasus simply cracked her neck from side to side and stretched her wings.

“Cool. Can we go now? Destiny’s waiting! As a cube, though,” Rainbow said, smiling widely.

“All right, I may as well see what this thing is that was so important you nearly got killed to seize it,” Erin mumbled, standing up and scrubbing the back of her head with her hand. “I’m all done here, right?”

“No. Come back when you’re done gawking at the not-cube,” Jewel Bracer commanded. “When you do I’ll have your new command report and your service pact ready. Understood?”

“Yes, Miss Bracer!” Erin barked, despite the mare’s request to use her first name. “Thank you for this opportunity!”

“You don’t owe me a thing, Miss. Now go have fun with the mystery relic,” Jewel said waving a hoof toward the door.

Erin exited the room behind Rainbow Dash, and a deep, disturbing chuckle came from the room’s guard before the door slid shut and locked behind her.

“Uh, h-hi,” Fluttershy squeaked, looking up at the refugee with an anxious smile while they headed down the hall. “You’re looking… good? Oh! Not that you looked bad before! It’s just, uhm, you, er…”

“You were going through a lot of stuff when we last saw you in the medicae,” Rainbow Dash continued while Fluttershy trailed off, “it seemed like a real drag to have to abandon most of your friends, get chased by monsters, and then have Gaela kill the last person you thought you really knew right in front of you.”

“It… was. Yes. A real drag,” Erin agreed, chuckling ruefully. “But it could have been worse. It could have been much, much worse… to think that Byron had been infected the entire time. Did he know after all, or at least suspect it? Did Lady Nacellus know? What would he have done if he hadn’t been caught by the Mechanicus machine?” She shook her head sadly, her loose chestnut hair flowing back and forth with the movement. “I wonder about it, but I’m glad I don’t know. The Genestealers are too vile to dwell on.”

Then she smiled at Fluttershy. “But anyway, thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to shower regularly. I’d almost forgotten what it was like. And the nutrient slime is at least much more filling than the fungus swill I’m used to.”

The trio passed by a pair of ponies heading the other way, hauling a metal wagon full of what appeared to be scrap armor and escorted by an Iron Warrior. They stopped in front of a wide receptacle in the bulkhead marked out by hazard chevrons, and then the Astartes grabbed the edge of the wagon. With a grunt he dumped the load of waste metal into the receptacle, and then dropped it back down with a hefty clang.

Erin slowed her walk for a few seconds, watching as the massive, armored soldier of Chaos reached over and scratched one of the mares behind the ears. She giggled adorably, and then the ponies started moving again to fetch the next cartload.

“Hey, what’s the hold-up?” Rainbow called, having already advanced to the next intersection. “You just got here and you don’t even have an amulet thingy! You gotta be careful not to get lost!”

Erin quickly jogged up to her pegasus escorts. “Yeah, good call… I suppose they get up to all sorts of terrible things on this ship, don’t they? Can’t be too careful.”

“Most of the important and dangerous places are locked to us anyway,” Rainbow admitted as she started moving again, “but the consecrated decks aren’t. You don’t want to end up there without a good armor suit.” She stuck out her tongue and made a gagging expression.

Erin blinked a few times. “… Consecrated? Consecrated for… what, exactly?”

“Nurgle, mostly,” Rainbow replied. “I guess there’s probably a Khorne and Tzeentch shrine down there too, but mostly Nurgle.”

“I’m not really familiar with the Chaos faith,” Erin said blithely. “On Imperial worlds the Imperial Cult and the Machine Cult of the Adeptus Mechanicus are the only religions that are not suppressed. Knowledge of Chaos is heresy, never mind practice.”

“Okay, well, it can get a little complicated, but the basic rundown is this.” Rainbow lifted a wing with three primary feathers curled, and then unfolded one. “Nurgle is the main dark god around here. His thing is bugs, disease, and uh… well there’s kind of a plant thing there too maybe but I’m not really sure how it fits. Super gross all around.” She unfolded another feather. “Khorne is the Blood God. You won’t need me to tell you that, because the cultists will tell you, over and over and OVER. Really into violence and skulls.” She unfolded the third feather. “Tzeentch-“

“I take offense to what you’re about to say,” interrupted a unicorn in a robe and blindfold, stepping out of a room ahead of them.

Rainbow scowled. Erin stumbled to a halt, staring at the strange mare trotting across their path. Fluttershy immediately ducked behind the human’s legs, her wings quivering.

“This is Shifty Sights,” Rainbow Dash grumbled. “She’s with Tzeentch, the creepy magic god who seems kind of cool at first but just gets more annoying the longer you have to deal with him.”

“Why do you say things that you know will hurt me?” Shifty asked, pouting as she kept walking. Her path looked like it was going to lead straight into a bulkhead, but right when her nose was about to touch the wall a wave of smoke exploded around her robe, completely obscuring her. The multi-colored cloud twisted and churned and then it spread apart, revealing that the pony was gone.

“So you’re the new human?” Shifty asked, stepping up from behind Erin.

The refugee took the surprise with admirable calm, but Fluttershy yelped and scrambled around Erin’s legs to try to keep the woman between her and the Dark Sorceress.

“Yes, I’m the new human,” Erin said, the corner of her lips twitching. “My name is-“

“Erin Whyd,” Shifty interrupted, walking ahead of her. When Erin looked puzzled, she continued. “No, I didn’t look it up.” Erin opened her mouth, only for Shifty to pre-empt her again. “Oh my, no. Mind reading isn’t for me. I can see the future.”

Then the unicorn’s expression suddenly soured and her ears pinned back. “Shut up, Rainbow Dash!”

“She can’t use her power to do anything useful, so she mostly just annoys everyone with them,” Rainbow Dash said.

“What did I just say?” Shifty huffed, an arc of electricity flashing around her horn. “Clairvoyance is EXTREMELY useful! But I’m a combat sorceress, not a fortune-teller!”

“Then stop using it to answer people’s questions before they ask them and give vague, spooky advice,” Rainbow grumbled. “You said something weird to Twilight just ONCE and then she had us drop into the middle of an alien cult surrounded by the biggest army in the system.”

“That wasn’t my fault! Besides, what are you even complaining about? Everyone made it back fine!” Shifty retorted. “Miss Whyd is certainly better off for it!”

“Did you want something from us, Shifty?” Erin asked politely.

Shifty Sights quickly composed herself, reigning in her expression to an easy smirk and tilting her head such that it seemed to face no one in particular. “I didn’t want to miss this experiment! I’ve been helping the cabal unicorns study the…” she paused, tilting her head away and furrowing her brow under her horn. “Destiny Cube? Huh. Not a bad name.”

“Except it’s not a cube. But yes, it is kind of catchy,” Erin admitted.

“She doesn’t know that though. She’s blind,” Rainbow Dash interjected.

“I have magic spatial detection which, may I remind you, can define shapes MORE easily than mundane sight can!” Shifty retorted hotly. “I know it’s not a cube, but who cares? It’s better than calling it ‘artifact register 811.’ Which is still better than calling it the ‘Geo-Sparkle.’”

“Twilight’s name for it?” Rainbow asked, her ears flipping back.

“Yes, which is how everyone working on it came to learn its catalogue ID number,” the unicorn grumbled.

“What’s going to happen when we get there?” Erin asked.

“The Cabal Hierophant has decided to try a deep probe. Basically it means communing with the artifact through brute magical force and prying out its secrets directly,” Shifty explained.

“Okay, and what’s going to happen when they try to do that?” Erin pressed. “You can see the result in the future, right? So you can see if it’s productive, or a waste of time, or even harmful.”

“Unfortunately, the threads of fate wrapped around the Destiny Cube are too numerous and volatile to see anything around it. My clairvoyance is blinded,” Shifty admitted.

“Told you it can’t do anything useful,” Rainbow mumbled. Shifty clenched her teeth in aggravation, but said nothing in response.

“How does it work? Seeing into the future?” Erin asked. “The Imperium uses psykers for many things, but they’re always sequestered away from the rest of us. I’ve never spoken to one before I met Twilight Sparkle and Lord Serith.”

“I knew you would ask that!” Shifty said, her mood brightening substantially. “What you need to understand is the future is not a single, immovable thing, but a spectrum of possibilities spreading out before you! I can latch onto one of these possibilities and follow it pretty far if I devote some time meditating on it, but the further forward you go the less likely the events are and the less clear the picture is. Eventually the vision fragments into nonsense; brief snippets of conversations and images stripped of all context phasing in and out randomly. Interesting, but pointless.”

“So the future you see might not actually be the future?” Erin asked.

“Correct. For my particular form of clairvoyance to be accurate, it requires immediacy. A single decision or two into the future yields limited possibilities, and the overwhelming majority of them coalesce into a clear decision that can be easily acted upon. The further along you go, the more decisions, interventions, and inexplicable twists of circumstance spoil the vision until it’s no longer likely enough to be useful. That’s why it’s best suited to tactical combat – where you must know where your enemy will be and what they’ll be aiming at you in the next few seconds – and worst suited to fortune telling.”

“So when we start doing the thing with the Destiny Cube does that mean you can see what’ll happen then?” Rainbow asked, her tone suggesting she anticipated the answer was “no.”

“No,” Shifty replied. “Certain individuals and objects tend to peel away probability around them, making psychic prediction more confusing than helpful. Queen Chrysalis is one such individual.”

“And the Destiny Cube is an example of such an artifact,” Erin mumbled.

“Precisely.” Shifty paused. “Also Warp engines. I took a tour of the ship’s stern and it was like tripping into a circus funhouse. Didn’t just screw up the future sight, but my spatial detection too. Not a good time.”

“You should really consider just getting your eyes replaced,” Rainbow Dash mumbled.

“YOU should consider getting your own patron before doling out advice to those of us who have one!” the Dark Sorceress snapped. “Tzeentch isn’t like the Warsmith! I can’t just browbeat him into giving me things I want!”

“Sounds awful. Solon is way cooler than your lame nerd god,” Rainbow retorted smugly. Fluttershy remained quiet but nodded vigorously in agreement.

“What’s your planet like?” Erin asked, switching topics and hopefully heading off further argument. “The Imperium spans countless star systems, but I’ve never left Gessheim before now.”

“Our world is an idyllic little globe at the frontier of Imperium space,” Shifty answered, taking a calming breath. “It’s overrun with all sorts of strange beasts and magic, which I suppose you would consider monstrous xenos and cursed artifacts. We were part of a nation of ponies called Equestria, living without any knowledge of extraterrestrial life. Then… the Iron Warriors came.”

Erin felt a slight chill at the last sentence. “Did they… conquer your planet?”

“It’s a long story. The short answer is yes, but we ponies were allies in that effort, not opponents,” Shifty explained, her lips curling into a smile. “In the process numerous other races were brought to heel, including contingents of Tau and Ork warriors that have been abandoned on our world by their war fleets.”

“Some of those races were brought to heel a bit more than others,” Rainbow interjected. “The Tau work for the Iron Warriors now, and the Orks are being slowly wiped out.”

“A tall order,” Erin murmured. “It took nearly two hundred years to cleanse Gessheim of Ork remnants after the last invasion. We still have packs of greenskin raiders suddenly appearing from the forests on Ulaisse regularly enough to make training missions out of hunting them.”

“It wouldn’t be possible at all without the Iron Warriors and the Dark Mechanicus,” Shifty said, “so the 38th makes its home on our planet while those of us with the stomach for it lend them our strength directly. Meager as our power is when not bolstered by gifts from the Warsmith and the Dark Gods...”

“Is it… worth it?” Erin asked hesitantly.

“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash chirped.

“No,” Fluttershy squeaked.

“… It’s complicated,” Shifty Sights sighed. Then she stopped. “On your right.”

A door ahead of them opened, and a tremor ran through the decks as Applejack stomped into the hallway. The farmer was in her armor, although her helmet was disengaged. Behind her was Rarity and Pinkie Pie, neither of whom were in their usual wargear.

“Howdy, Erin! Looks like they haven’t chucked ya in the reactor yet!” Applejack said brightly. Her tail swayed back and forth in imitation of a wave.

“No, they have not. For good or ill, the Iron Warriors seem to have lost interest in me the moment it was confirmed I was not infected.” She smiled. “Mostly that’s good, as far as I can tell.”

“We’re gonna see Twilight do magic with the artifact!” Pinkie said excitedly.

“What exactly that means must be left to the imagination for now,” Rarity admitted. “Twilight confessed she doesn’t know what to expect, but she seemed convinced she was on the verge of a breakthrough.”

“And a few more grains of sand slip the hourglass into the abyss of the Empyrean,” Shifty Sights said to no one, her voice reverberating unnaturally. “Blind, ignorant souls orbit the light while claws of steel and shadow draw closer with every breath. The masters of this galaxy are watching, but alas… the angels may prove faster.”

The others stopped and stared at the cultist.

“… What?” Rainbow Dash ask.

“Hm? Just felt inspired to poetry all of a sudden,” Shifty giggled, an extra spring in her step while she trotted ahead. “I’m so excited! Hurry! Hurry!”

“Why was your voice different? That didn’t sound like you,” Rarity said, sounding concerned.

“Something something God of change!” Shifty chirped before rounding the corner.

“She is so weird,” Rainbow mumbled as the bladed whipcord tail of the Sorceress vanished behind the bulkhead.

“I thought she was starting a song,” Pinkie Pie said, sounding disappointed. “Remember when we did that? Just started singing and dancing out of nowhere? That was fun! We should do that more!”

“Darling, you know the Astartes don’t like extended expressions of joy,” Rarity chided, moving ahead to follow Shifty Sights. “Come on; let’s go see what the spooky alien artifact does!”

“It’s called the Destiny Cube now,” Rainbow Dash corrected.

“Really? Ah kinda like that name,” Applejack mused while they turned the corner. “Although Ah was gonna call it the Seed o’Doom!”

“Pff! Farmers,” Rarity giggled.

The entrance to the psykant labs was a massive vault door shaped like a Chaos Star and secured with massive hydraulic servo arms that locked it in place with clamps. A trio of iron braziers were positioned in front, with human and Ork skulls placed among the coals under the blaze. Wards decorated the vault door; scraps of parchment scrawled over in blood and icons of bone that dangled from the clamps.

Such displays of crude arcana embellishing the heavy industrial nature of the ship wasn’t exactly uncommon among the Harvest of Steel. Shrines to Chaos, the Machine God, and the consecrated decks given over to Nurgle were other examples, each different sort of dwelling possessing its own grim and generally repulsive style. As a rule, most ponies tried to avoid such places. Few of the Equestrians wanted to see the twisted corruption that fueled the flagship up close; the sterile bulkheads and alcoves of trapped, tormented crewmembers was quite enough.

Case in point, Shifty Sights was the only one out of the group to have previously entered this particular lab. While the others were gawking at the vault entrance she trotted up to the guards, a smile stretched across her muzzle.

“Greetings, my lord! We have been invited here by the Cabal Hierophant and Princess Twilight Sparkle!” the Dark Sorceress said, facing straight toward the door even as she addressed the Iron Warriors.

One of the Chaos Space Marines turned toward an access panel and started keying in a code. The other stepped forward, his boltgun gripped loosely in one hand.

“Sparkle has been toying with that thing since we entered Warp space,” the guard informed them, his voice a deep growl within his helmet. “Lord Serith joined her some four hours ago.”

“My condolences,” Rarity mumbled, her ears pinning back.

“They haven’t gotten into any fights yet, but the shouting does escalate from time to time,” the guard explained further. The servo clamps began to move, huge gears and pistons churning to lift the massive blocks. “The vault will be sealed behind you. You may proceed once the quarantine protocols are active.”

Erin’s eyebrow slowly lifted higher as the vault door started to slide out of the bulkhead. The door was nearly a meter thick, which wasn’t exceptional for ship bulkheads but was typically situated on the outside of the vessel where it would be expected to hold back the firepower of enemy vessels.

“This room is very well-protected. Would you expect an incursion here if the ship is compromised?”

“Yes. There are objects within that many of our enemies would seek to pillage if they got this far,” the Astartes explained. “But the seal is hardened to this extent more to keep the occupants in than for keeping thieves out.”

The door finished opening, and Rarity grimaced. On the interior siding there were numerous deep claw marks that had been carved deep into the metal. None of the damage looked recent, at least, and once the sound of moving gearwork stopped the ponies could hear Twilight’s voice from within another room beyond.

“Let’s not keep them waiting!” Shifty chirped, trotting in immediately with a smile on her face.

Harvest of Steel
Section 9 - restricted
Psykant laboratorium sanctum delta

“-and if it is some kind of logic processor, it would seem to only accept input in very specific ways. I haven’t been able to communicate with it at all as far as I can tell, but it is clearly aware of its surroundings to some degree.”

Twilight was walking a circuit around the artifact, her eye fixed on the octahedron. She was in her armor, helmet removed, and the gorget lumen indicated she was speaking through the vox. The artifact stood on a raised platform ringed by telescoping metal rails, with a series of servo arms hanging from above. Particle shield projectors were placed in a triangular position around the platform, inactive; as of yet, the artifact had not displayed any capabilities that warranted safety precautions greater than being stored behind the defenses of the psykant labs.

Outside the pony’s orbit, Serith stood with his halberd, flipping through the book that was constantly chained to his hip. A ring of cultists, both human and pony, stood near the walls. They wore dark red cloaks and carried heavy incense burners in great brass spheres attached to chains, like flails leaking intoxicating smoke. The ponies – unicorns exclusively, of course – also had candles settled on their horn, the tiny flames providing almost as much light across the room as the tiny lumens dotting the ceiling.

“It didn’t act passively, either… The artifact is intelligent. It knew what was happening to those people. It… didn’t tell me about it, of course. Just that they were under threat. Maybe it didn’t know how to explain it.”

“Or maybe it deceived you,” Serith interjected.

Twilight didn’t pause in her anxious circuit around the dais platform, but she did cast an annoyed glance at the Sorcerer. “Can logic engines lie?”

“A logic engine can be made to lie, yesh,” came Solon’s voice from the vox link, “but what you’re deshcribing ish no mere engram. It undershtood your emotional compulshionsh, and knew enough about your fearsh not to warn you of the danger.”

“Allegedly,” Twilight retorted. Serith laughed, and she scowled at him.

“I have built true artificial intelligence, and to divulge falshe data or manipulate emotionsh cutsh againsht their nature. They are poor liarsh. Thish ish, however, a very different short of machine.”

“The Elements approach!” hissed one of the cultists standing along the wall. “The hour draws near.”

Twilight had heard the sound of Applejack’s hoofsteps despite the door that closed off this sanctum from the rest of the lab. She nodded absently to the unicorn that had spoken, and then turned around as the door shifted open.

“Hi everyone! Hello, Erin! I hope you’re feeling better after a good night’s sleep and a hot meal?” the Princess greeted them brightly.

“I mostly had nightmares and the gruel was served at room temperature,” the refugee replied, “but yes, I am feeling much better relatively speaking, thank you.”

Twilight’s smile cracked, and she quickly turned her attention to Shifty Sights. “And Miss Shifty Sights! I wasn’t expecting you here! Hello!”

“Salutations, Princess Sparkle. I’m pleased that Equinought Squadron was able to complete its mission.” The Dark Sorceress’s tone seemed teasing, as if she was giving the punch line to a joke no one else understood. “The fleet, the Imperium, the refugees, the darker powers… your efforts on Ulaisse aided many noble souls. As well as a few less noble ones.”

“Didn’t aid the Tyranids,” Rainbow Dash snickered. “Pirate ponies, two! Freaky bug aliens, nada!”

“We’re ALL quite surprised that you took it upon yourself to slay the Patriarch,” Serith admitted, planting a fist against the chin of his helmet as if he was thinking. “Your adventures under the 38th Company seem to have given you a bit of… bloodlust, Princess.”

Twilight’s eye narrowed. “… I have a greater appreciation now for the threats and evils humanity faced as it spread across the galaxy, that’s all,” she said calmly. “Anyway, we’re here to talk about the artifact, so let’s get to it.”

With a glance upward, several servo projectors unfolded and activated, generating a few holo-screens that hovered around the mysterious object. None of them contained any information that was immediately intelligible or useful to the mares in the room, although Pinkie thought the molecular auragraphic print looked very neat.

“Do you have any idea what it is or where it’s from?” Rarity asked.

“Yes! We’ve made so much progress!” Twilight gushed, returning to her anxious circuit around the dais. “Every insight we make just raises more questions, though! The projections, the observational capabilities, the data extraction, the psykant polar defraction, the processor-“

“Twi!” Rainbow Dash interrupted, already feeling a throbbing in her forehead. “Can you dial it back a little? We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Okay. Sorry.” Twilight composed herself, and then cleared her throat. “Warsmith, why don’t you go ahead? I think you can explain it better.”

“Of courshe.” The floating holo-screens flickered, and one of them suddenly changed to a vid-feed of Solon’s helmet as the vox link on Twilight’s gorget disconnected. A few others shifted to change the information displayed, although none if it was really any more intelligible to the other mares.

“Object 811 ish, ash far ash we can tell, a pshychic cogitator. A highly advanced one that may have attained true intelligence and shelf-awarenessh.” One of the holo-screens changed to display a hex grid of bright blue stones that seemed to be interlinked to each other. “It proved unexpectedly agreeable to our materialsh analyshish. Although few of the materialsh are fully understood, it wash shimple to determine their purposhe. The inner core ish a processhor. The shurrounding cryshtal lattice ish a data shtorage hive. The blackshtone shell actsh as an interface, either amplifying the shyshtem output when needed and protecting the internalsh from pshychic contamination and Warp breach when it’s not.”

“Hee hee! Shyshtem output,” giggled Pinkie Pie.

“That explains the layers up to the blackstone, I suppose. What about the alabaster exterior? Serith said there was something on top of the blackstone,” Rarity asked. “Is it some kind of special transmitter? Anti-gravity plating? Sensory frame?”

“Oh, no, all thoshe functionsh are performed by the other partsh of the device,” Solon replied, sounding quite pleased to get an intelligent question from the fashionista. “The outer layer ish a composhite shubshtrate collected over hundredsh of yearsh of being buried conshishting of calcium reshidue, shediment runoff, and fosshilized excrement.”

“Ewwww!” shouted several of the mares, recoiling.

“Don’t worry, we washed it,” Twilight assured them, rolling her eye.

“So… wait a tick. Ya said this’s a cogitator? Don’t we have a million cogitators already?” Applejack asked. “Even our fancy space hats have cogitators!”

“Well, sure, but they’re nothing like this!” Twilight insisted, sounding giddy again. “The logic engines in our helmets can do some impressive things, but this device figured out that it was being held by a malicious cult and reached out to me from across space to intervene!”

“Did it know you were ALSO part of a malicious cult?” Erin asked, quickly adding, “No offense.”

“Er, no. It probably didn’t. Also I’m not actually part of the cult, I just work with it! Technically,” Twilight explained awkwardly.

“The nature of the artifact may be of ushe to ush if I can figure out how to interface with it. I can think of more than one posshibility for a pshychic logic engine,” Solon said. “But the mosht valuable ashpect ish mosht likely the data being shtored within. Unfortunately, the nature of the technology meansh I cannot shimply plug in an appropriate conduit and exload whatever ish there. That ish where Sherith’sh cabal comesh in.”

“We do not yet know how this device was normally activated, and unfortunately the only other individual to study it was murdered before he could divulge any secrets,” Serith said regretfully. “However, as it is a psychic device, and as it communicated on its own with Lady Sparkle, we are gifted with other options.”

“Where did it come from? It’s not of human construction, is it?” Erin asked. When Serith turned his gaze toward her she straightened and quickly added. “If I may ask, Lord Serith.”

“We’re not sure,” Twilight replied.

“The deshign and function reshemblesh that of Old One artifactsh, but the conshtruction ish far more rudimentary and hash sheveral uncharacterishtic featuresh. It alsho doeshn’t sheem old enough itshelf, although it wash reshishtant to our dating techniquesh.” The helmet facing on the holo-screen shifted away, apparently focusing on something else. “If I were to make a guessh, I’d shay thish wash an attempt to copy a device from the Old Onesh by shome other, lessher shpeciesh.”

Erin twitched while she stood as still as possible, visibly trying to stifle a laugh. Pinkie Pie was giggling into her hooves, while Rainbow Dash snickered loudly, unconcerned. Rarity cleared her throat to silence them, although her mouth was also curling into a smile.

“So we don’t quite know where it’s from or what it’s for, but at least we know what the Destiny Cube is. What now?” Rarity asked.

“Now we have to…” Twilight began, slowly trailing off. “… Destiny Cube? What?”

“We have been planning an effort to probe it more forcefully,” Serith answered instead. “I believe that we now have everything we need. The final preparations may now begin. Lord Mantis!” He lifted his halberd and slammed the butt onto the floor as he called out the name, sending a ringing clang throughout the lab. The cultists surrounding the participants started whispering amongst themselves, and then turned to file out of the room.

“Does anypony know why we were called in for this?” Fluttershy asked, nervously scratching one foreleg with another. “They didn’t invite us to any of the other tests.”

“Hey, yeah. That’s a good point. Why did they want us here now?” Rainbow asked. “Maybe they want us to see whatever’s inside? I guess that could be cool.”

“Can we step back a little? Back to the part about the Destiny Cube?” Twilight asked. “What is that?”

“It’s the psychic space artifact that apparently works as a cogitator,” Erin explained, pointing to the object in question.

“But… It… No!” Twilight shouted, rapidly growing more agitated. “First off, it is NOT a cube! Secondly, it’s an octahedron!”

“That’s really just one point, if you think about it,” Pinkie mused.

“It’s true though,” Fluttershy said, still rubbing one front leg against the other anxiously.

“Look, if you don’t like it, take it up with Trixie. It was her idea,” Rainbow said, waving a wing in the general direction of the exit.

“Why would Trixie get to name the artifact?! She only came along out of curiosity and hubris!” Twilight protested, increasingly agitated.

“Well she did carry it out fer us,” Applejack reasoned.

“All the more important now that we know what the outer shell is,” Rarity mumbled, gagging.

“Rock! The outer shell is rock! That’s what fossilization means!” Twilight fumed. “And Trixie didn’t carry it, Suuna did!”

“Yeah, and Trixie is Suuna’s boss,” Applejack reasoned, “she wouldn’t have come along if’n Trixie didn’t.”

“And her and Serith DID save us, so I think it’s very reasonable to give her naming rights,” Rarity pointed out.

“Thank you, Lady Rarity,” Serith said with great amusement in his voice.

“No! It’s not a cube! I’m not calling it a cube!” Twilight barked, stomping her boot on the deck.

“Dark Gods, WHAT is all the racket in here? You’ll unsettle the Warp itself with your yapping!”

Three new ponies marched into the room, walking past the train of cultists leaving for some other lab chamber. Each of them wore a Chaos Star amulet or clasp and had a cloak draped over their backs. There was a stallion at the head, with two mares following him.

One of the mares they recognized immediately: Vinyl Scratch, sometimes known as Dj Pon-3, was in the rear of the trio, wearing a bright red cloak and hood. She wore her trademark magenta shades as well; along with her shock-blue mane and snow-white coat, she made for a bright and colorful contrast compared to the other two. She gave an awkward smile once she was recognized, and then waved a hoof at Pinkie Pie.

A unicorn mare with a gray coat and curly dark blue mane was second in line. She wore a blue cape with an iron clasp fashioned into a Chaos Star, and her cutie mark was a white snowflake over a blue starburst. She looked quite cheerful, smiling brightly at the sight of the Equinoughts waiting for them.

The stallion was different. His coat was light gray with a patch of ash white over his face; Rarity couldn’t tell whether the color was natural or makeup. A purple octagram was spread on his hip, his cutie mark abstractly mimicking the form of his amulet. Messy, platinum blond hair that hung to his shoulders framed his face, twisted as it was into an annoyed sneer. His hooves were cleft sharply in front, and the dock of his tail was much longer than other ponies, leading to a thick, tangled length of hair that was just barely held high enough not to drag along the ground.

What stood out the most about the stallion, however, was his horns. For one thing, he had two of them rather than the traditional single, striated spike possessed of unicorns and alicorns. They both curled backward over his ears and had a smooth ivory texture to them, and Rarity could see no indication of augments or bodily reconstruction that she’d noticed in other ponies who had been modified by the 38th Company (including, somewhat regretfully, herself).

“I see everypony is here. Good. We can begin at once,” the stallion said, striding past Serith and stopping next to Twilight.

“I have other work to do, and I doubt I would have any usheful contribution to thish exercishe,” Solon announced. “Good luck! I’ll review your reshultsh later.” With that announcement, the holo-screen with Solon’s face vanished.

Twilight cleared her throat and then gestured to the stallion. “We should introduce everyone before we start, actually. Girls, this is Mantis, the Lord Hierophant who has been working with me on the artifact. You already know Vinyl Scratch of course, and her name is Snow Fallie.” Twilight gestured to the unicorn next to Vinyl, and then turned around as if she was going to introduce her squadron.

“I know who you all are,” Mantis said wryly, walking up to the artifact. “The Elements of Harmony, the refugee Erin Whyd, and Shifty Sights of the Dark Sorcerers of Tzeentch.” His voice was deep, rich, and quite pleasing to the ear, even as his words seem airy and dismissive. “Now then-“

Pinkie Pie reared up and started waving a hoof in the air.

“… Miss Pie, do you have a question about the ritual?” Mantis asked after an awkward pause.

“Yes!” she said brightly.

“Go ahead, then.”

“Why do your horns look like that? Why are there two of them? Are you a daemon pony?!”

“None of those questions have anything to do with the ritual,” Mantis replied sourly.

“They are a tiresome lot, aren’t they?” Serith asked with a sigh. “Are you certain their presence is required?”

“Having the Elements present will increase our odds of success substantially and reduce the risk of any serious mishaps,” Mantis explained. “Scratch, prepare the circle.”

“Gotcha, Chief!” A piece of chalk lifted out from beneath her robe on a cloud of bright purple magic. She trotted over to the other side of the artifact platform.

The stallion was about to say something else, but he started in surprise when he felt something touch his horn. He jerked away and whirled around to find that Rainbow Dash was hovering overhead.

“Oh, wow! I think they’re REAL!” Rainbow said, clearly impressed.

“Of course they’re real!” Mantis snapped. “How do you think a pony without a real horn would become a Cabal magister?”

“Well Ah was under the impression that y’all needed a proper unicorn horn to do that, so Ah’m not quite straight on the rules here,” Applejack said. “But it don’t matter to us if yer a Chaos pony! Not the first one we’ve met!”

“I am NOT a ‘Chaos pony,’” Mantis drawled.

The Equinoughts all shifted their eyes to look at the eight-pointed mark on his hip. Erin did as well. Shifty couldn’t see the mark, but she had to stifle a laugh into her hoof. Vinyl stopped drawing the ritual circle and looked back at the Hierophant with an arched eyebrow.

“… All right, I should rephrase that,” the stallion grumbled. “I was not mutated after entering the service of Chaos, nor did my cutie mark change, unlike our friends who have sworn themselves to Nurgle or Tzeentch. My horns have been like this since I was born.”

“Whoa! That’s so cool!” Rainbow said, hovering closer and reaching out toward his horns again. “Was your dad a goat or something?”

“No, he was not, and also STOP that,” Mantis snapped, recoiling

“Dash! Do try to show a little propriety, would you?” Rarity admonished, wagging a hoof. “Besides, what if they’re cursed or something? You don’t know where they’ve been!”

“They’re not cursed!” Mantis protested, looking increasingly incensed.

“It was just an example! Relax, darling. I don’t like strange ponies fondling my horn either. I understand.”

“Do you, now?” Mantis sneered. His eyes were a dark, dull gold that seemed to pulse with energy whenever his gaze met another pony’s. They narrowed angrily, and a dark purple arc lashed between the ends of his horns. “Do you have colts and fillies groping for your head every time you walk through town? How often do you have to explain to suspicious guards that you’re not a changeling who got their shapeshift wrong and didn’t realize it? Have you ever been ambushed with balloons filled with holy water?!”

“That last one actually sounds kind of fun,” Pinkie interjected with a broad smile.

“It’s NOT! That stuff burns!” Mantis retorted angrily.

“… Wait, wha-“ Rarity started, only for Applejack to interrupt.

“All right, we get it. Ya don’t wanna talk about it,” the farmer drawled. “So let’s talk about yer magic thing instead. Ya said havin’ us around will help, right? What’s that about?”

“Right. Thank you,” Mantis coughed into a hoof to clear his throat. “The reason you’re here is because the main subject of the ritual isn’t the Destiny Cube. It’s Princess Twilight.”

Twilight nodded. “That’s right. You see, while studying the-“ then she suddenly recoiled. “Why are you calling it the Destiny Cube too?! It’s NOT a cube!”

“True, but so what? You can’t call it a ‘Destiny Octahedron,’ that sounds terrible,” Mantis explained.

“At least it would be CORRECT!” Twilight barked, slamming a hoof into the floor.

“Anyway,” the stallion said with a roll of his eyes, “the blackstone shielding renders the Destiny Cube impervious to magical effects. This is why nopony can levitate it; it unmakes and repulses mana to protect the core from contamination.”

“Isn’t it a psychic cogitator, though?” Erin asked, scratching the back of her head. “How would you use it if you can’t use… uh… ‘magic’ on it?”

“Presumably there’s a specific kind of input necessary for ordinary use. A certain spell, a key, or a password. Hay, maybe there’s a button hidden somewhere on this thing that you’re supposed to press first. We don’t know,” Mantis lifted a hoof toward Twilight. “What we do know is that the Destiny Cube sends information to Princess Sparkle and is monitoring her somehow, so it must be receiving information back. Therefore, she will be our conduit; our window into the Destiny Cube’s memory. The reason you’re all here, by extension, is to protect her through your own connections to the Princess. With your deep bond of… uh…”

Snow nudged him with a giggle. “Friendship!”

“Right, friendship, yes. With that you’ll be able to shield her projected spirit from any possible threats.”

“Why? Is this dangerous? We expectin’ the Destiny Cube to try to put her down or somethin’?” Applejack asked.

“We don’t really know what to expect at all,” admitted Snow Fallie. “We could have a complete failure, where the conduit to Princess Sparkle is closed off to prevent access, or a complete success, where we’re able to link consciousness with the Destiny Cube and issue commands it will accept. Anything between those two outcomes is obviously possible. Or maybe something else will happen! Isn’t it exciting?”

“Not really,” Rainbow mumbled.

“Other known possibilities – as with any use of substantial psychic power to toy with things beyond our understanding – include a sudden incursion by daemonic hunters or the random disintegration of somepony involved,” Mantis added.

“Okay I take it back, this is a little exciting,” Rainbow said, standing up straight. “Let’s crack this cube!”

“What if I dig around a little bit to find the artifact’s real name?” Twilight asked, sounding somewhat desperate. “It has to have one, right?”

“Most likely. But if the creators treated their logic engines similarly to the way we do, it likely possesses little more than a model type and serial designation,” Serith mused.

“Finished!” Vinyl suddenly announced, flicking away the remains of her chalk with a hoof.

The others looked down at the floor she had been drawing on. A series of large concentric circles had been marked out in chalk such that they resembled a music record. Within the circle were many lines of carefully drawn glyphs, all of which resembled curiously jagged and exaggerated musical notes.

“Is… Is this a magic circle?” Rainbow mumbled, hovering low above the mark. “It doesn’t look like the ones usually Serith draws.”

“Magister Scratch has an unusually… stylized style of glyph markings,” Serith said, walking over to the space and stopping at the edge to look them over. “The runiform focii are accurate, nonetheless. Lady Sparkle, you may take your place in the center.”

“Okay, but I still want to talk about the name after this is over!” the young Princess griped, slowly lifting off the ground and gently moving to the middle of the glyph circle.

Serith gestured to the rest of the mares waiting next to Erin. “Lady Rarity, if you and the equine rabble that dirties your presence could take position on the outer conduit, just inside the glyph periphery.”

“Of course,” Rarity replied frostily as she and the other mares approached the circle and started spacing out around it.

Pinkie reached her spot, but then hesitated, her hoof hovering over the chalk drawing in front of her. “Is this one of those circles that release a daemon if the chalk gets scuffed up?”

“Ha! No way! No possibility of Warp rifts with these things!” Vinyl Scratch assured her. “The worst you’d have to deal with is agonizing psychic feedback. Probably not even fatal.”

Pinkie Pie cringed and then very carefully placed her hoof down on the glyphs, delicately moving into place one leg at a time. The other ponies did likewise, although there was only so much Applejack could do to keep the massive greaves of her armor from disturbing the chalk drawing.

“It is ready. Vinyl, Snow. To me,” Mantis commanded. “We will activate the psykant warding, and then establish the link. Once we have established a presence that the Destiny Cube does not reject, we shall proceed to breach its matrix. Lord Serith?”

The Iron Warrior started to walk a wide circuit around the ponies, his eyes locked on his book. “I am ready. Proceed, hierophant.”

“Good luck! We’re rooting for you!” Shifty said brightly, waving a foreleg. Erin stood next to her, looking toward the exit as if she already regretted coming.

Snow Fallie and Vinyl Scratch sat down next to Mantis. He leaned back on his haunches, lifting his forelegs with the hooves turned upward. The mares each placed a hoof against his, a slight shudder running up their spines at the contact. Their horns started to glow in sympathy, the magical shine swimming between them and mixing erratically.

Twilight closed her eyes. Serith began to speak, his voice emerging in whispers that seemed to run together into nonsense. The warding circle under her started to glow as well, and each of the mares felt a deep chill up their spines.

“And so it begins,” Mantis intoned, his eyes pulsing with eldritch light. “Open the path. Let us see what secrets this rock holds for us.”

Twilight felt her stomach flip as her senses went haywire, and then she suddenly felt like she was falling.

???

Twilight opened her eyes with a gasp.

“Where… Where am I? Is this…”

Twilight was laying on a long stretch of deck plating. The magic circle was still underneath her, quivering with energy, although her friends were nowhere to be seen. Nor were any of the others around who had been in the lab while the ritual had taken place.

There were no bulkhead walls, ceilings, cogitators, or ominous markings in this space other than the warding circle below her. In every direction the floor stretched into the distance with no end in sight. Which isn’t to say the space around her was empty.

Big floating pieces of stonework the size of a refrigerator hovered in the air all around and above her. The stones were cut into large block shapes, as if they were prepared as part of a greater construction. Each one also seemed damaged, with a corner ripped out or a deep crack sundering the block. The blocks all floated in place, slowly turning in a personal rotation separate from all the others, many with debris locked in place floating around the cracks. There were hundreds of them in view, and Twilight presumed there were many thousand more out of view.

“I wish I had brought some paper,” she muttered to herself, looking back and forth. Of course, she assumed she was currently a psychic projection, and therefore any paper she had would also be a psychic projection, and any such hypothetical object wouldn’t retain her writing when she emerged back on the ship. Still, Twilight felt the surroundings would be a lot less unnerving if she could take notes right now.

With nothing better to do, Twilight trotted up to the nearest block to observe it more closely. It looked to be made of white marble, with veins of gold running through it in crooked narrow streaks. The breach in this block had ripped off a corner and the detached piece was frozen some fifteen inches away, with many pebbles scattered between the pieces also frozen in the air. The bottom-most part was just within reach from the ground, and Twilight reached up a hoof to shove it and check if it was being held in place by some invisible force.

The moment she touched it, an electric jolt ran through her body and her senses went haywire. Images poured in front of her eyes, one after another. A void ship exploding. A solar flare. Comets streaking through colorful dust. Breaches in space. A massive dockyard. Crab-like aliens scuttling over the surface of an asteroid. They came with incomprehensible speed, yet each image seemed to burn itself in her memory the way few other images ever had. Sounds bombarded her as well: Screams and lectures, conversation and narration. All seemed to pour into her as a senseless mess of noise strung together, yet each separate sentence or sound registered just as clearly in her mind as the words in a book.

Twilight recoiled, breaking contact with the block. Her eye was wide, and sweat was forming on her brow and neck. Her hoof tingled with energy, despite still being clad in her power armor (whatever that mattered in this psychic dream world, anyway). The memories – shoved into her brain through an artifice she didn’t understand or consent to – remained, clearer and easier to recall than anything she had read in the past few days.

“These… are… data recordings?” she mumbled to herself. It made sense. The artifact was some kind of cogitator which was storing information. She had been linked to it. She had just viewed a considerable amount of information and appeared to retain it, not unlike how Techpriests inloaded knowledge from dataports.

This prospect was strangely unsatisfying. She had touched the block and absorbed its knowledge, but it was all useless. She had no context for any of the images. She didn’t know who any of the speakers were supposed to be and usually couldn’t tell how they were associated with the images they were linked with. Some of them were simple enough for her to figure out: a calm, regal-sounding voice had explained that the asteroid crabs were a species called metamites and that they were nesting. But what did the exploding ship have to do with the 9th Gale Armistice? Was The Haunt the name of the dockyard or some other place related in a non-obvious way? Was the solar flare really that important to the Eldar? Why?

“The data is badly fragmented,” announced a voice behind her.

Twilight jumped, and then turned around. She was expecting to see nothing at all, or be confronted by some avatar of the artifact that had spoken to her on Ulaisse. Instead, she saw Mantis.

The stallion’s cloven hoof was pressed against one of the blocks behind Twilight, and his expression was held in intense concentration, as if he was struggling to power through a difficult spell. After a few seconds, he backed away and released an exasperated sigh.

“Complete success. A perfect entry into the Destiny Cube. A simple method of absorbing the encoded information. No obvious hazards. And yet…” Mantis twisted his face into a grimace. “It’s incomplete. All of them are. We can learn the shreds of information that remain, but it could take ages. How many data blocks are there?”

Twilight hadn’t been completely sure how this ritual was going to turn out, but she decided that Mantis appearing here with her was one of the more likely and reasonable outcomes. She turned around, looking over the various rocks with a deepening frown.

“Why is it like this? Everything is so… disorganized. There’s no directory labels or meme tags or even an anchor codex. I’ve studied a lot a cogitators and none of them were like this!” Twilight complained.

“It may be that this is just how your mind perceives the datastacks. Or perhaps this is the best that our ritual could do in projecting something we could easily interact with,” Mantis mused, trotting between the blocks.

He reared up and touched another one, and then after a few seconds he broke away with shudder. “My primary theory, however, is that the Destiny Cube is damaged.”

“Damaged?”

“Yes. Perhaps the device is simply not immune to the relentless march of time and has corroded over the millennia. Perhaps there was something done to it that damaged its internal memory. If this representation of the memory cells – as manufactured blocks that have been cracked and split open – is true to their functional state , then that would explain why touching them provides a handful of disconnected, vaguely related thoughts and images.”

Mantis started to approach another block, and then hesitated. He looked back at Twilight with a grimace. “If wandering this shambolic library absorbing information at random is all we can do now, we should withdraw and report our findings to the Sorcerer instead. We may delve into the artifact again, but this represents sufficient progress for now.”

Twilight twisted her head around, and then narrowed her eye. “No. Not yet.”

Mantis quirked an eyebrow.

“There should be something else here. Something capable of processing information. The entity that contacted me. The artifact isn’t an inert repository of data. It can think and make decisions.” Twilight lifted off from the floor and then started flying away. The ward circle under her kept pace, locked onto the ground underneath her but moving at the same exact speed. “Follow me.”

The goat-horned pony galloped after her without protest. They curved and ducked through the various floating stone blocks, this time without touching any of them. The sprint didn’t tire them, but at the same time it didn’t look like they were making any apparent progress. One stretch of the Destiny Cube looked like every other one, with the only obvious variation being the exact orientation and degree of damage to the countless floating stones.

“Are Snow and Vinyl here too?” Twilight asked suddenly.

“No. They are acting as support. The psychic bridge, so to speak,” Mantis explained. “Although if this process proves to be safe, they may accompany us in future incursions to speed up the harvesting of these data scraps.”

“You put a lot of time into making this project less dangerous, and even if that turns out to be unnecessary I just want to say that I appreciate it,” Twilight said. “The Chaos rituals I’ve observed and read about don’t seem to place much importance on the safety of the psyker.”

“Yes. In part this is because, well, it’s Chaos and they mostly view living creatures as resources to be expended. But also a necessary component of these precautions is usually more psykers. The Iron Warriors simply didn’t have enough or understand magic sufficiently until they met us,” Mantis explained. “The amount of research on their rituals and sorceries we’ve been able to conduct with a proper unicorn corps is far beyond what the Warsmith had ever expected when he agreed to be… custodian of our planet.”

“That’s… good. Probably,” Twilight said, thinking back to the various examples of Chaos magic she had witnessed since meeting the Iron Warriors. “So… if you’ve been studying Chaos sorcery and daemonic artifice, do you… happen to know what Solon is?”

“No,” the stallion replied curtly. “Scared to ask.”

Twilight probably would have pried further into his studies, but then something caught her eye. Up ahead was something new, standing on a wide, round platform separate from the blocks of psychic information.

It was a monolith of carved marble, not dissimilar to the blocks, but of a clearly different design. It stretched some twenty feet into the air, tapering not to a point but with a small, flat surface on top. The base was a square about five feet wide on each side and built directly into the ground in stark contrast to the many data blocks floating in seemingly random orientations around it. Rather that veins of rough gold giving the monolith a crude, natural look, it had stripes of black running through it in distinct, obviously artificial patterns.

“Is this it? The processor core?” Mantis asked, leaning in to study the markings without touching it.

“I think so, yes.” Twilight looked over the monolith, mildly frustrated that her bionic was unable to return any useful information as a psychic projection. She approached and lifted a foreleg toward the structure.

Stop…

The Princess froze, the toe of her greaves just inches from the monolith’s surface.

“What was that?” Mantis was on alert, his head twitching back and forth and his tail whipping in agitation. The voice had seemed to come from all directions at once.

“The artifact! It’s speaking to us!” Twilight could barely contain her excitement. She had so many questions! How did it end up on Ulaisse? How did it contact her? How much of the Genestealer Cult had it observed? What happened to it? Where did it come from?

She decided to resolve a more immediate concern. “What are you called? I need to settle something.”

“Princess, be serious,” Mantis scoffed.

“I AM serious! I’m not calling it the Destiny Cube!” she snapped.

Harm…… cannot…… break……

The voice spoke haltingly, frequently spilling into stretches of unintelligible nonsense, almost like static plaguing a vox transmission. It was difficult to ascribe emotion to the words, but they sounded almost pained.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Twilight asked, her brow creasing. “Are you running low on power? Is there anything we can do?”

“Hmm?” Mantis narrowed his eyes at the monolith. He could swear that the black strips had just shifted slightly.

Twilight lifted off over the ground, moving closer to a dark ring several feet above her head. “Tell us how we can help. We found our way to you and defeated the Patriarch. What do you need us to do?” The magic circle beneath her quivered.

A crack suddenly appeared and ran from one side of the monolith to the other in an instant, splitting through the construct all the way around. Twilight gasped, her eye bulging in shock. Mantis recoiled, and then looked back at the black strips. They were actively slithering now, and pulling free of the monolith.

Trap…

“Sparkle, RUN!” Mantis screamed at the same time that a spear of inky darkness erupted from the breach in the stone.

“GYAAAH!!”

Rainbow Dash was sent reeling through the air, wings and hooves flailing in a panic. She struck the ground and rolled, leaving a streak of fresh blood across the deck.

“Wh… Wh…” Fluttershy paled, and the other Elements of Harmony gaped in shock. Snow and Vinyl were equally stunned, although they kept their magic flowing regardless.

Erin was by Rainbow’s side in an instant, crouching next to the trembling pegasus.

“She’s under attack,” Serith hissed. “Stay where you are, ponies. Her survival depends on it.”

“Okay! Yes!” Pinkie Pie said breathlessly, standing tall while magic continued swirling around her. “Quick question though: what about our survival?”

Serith didn’t answer, instead flipping the page in his book.

Twilight blinked in surprise as a tendril of shadow recoiled away from her, shocked away by a barrier of powerful magic. She quickly turned and veered away, and another tentacle swiped at her and missed.

“What’s going on?! What happened to it?!” Twilight cried.

“It’s possessed! Corrupted!” Mantis snarled. “This… This is a daemon!”

More shadow-stuff started to ooze out of the breach in the monolith, and then some of it hardened into a long, jointed limb.

“Is the core still there? Can we save it?” Twilight asked in a panic.

“Forget about the core! We have to get out of here! Now!” Mantis shouted, turning and galloping away.

A long, scythe-like talon burst from the tip of the limb, and then it sliced through the air at the armored alicorn.

“Hrk!”

Fluttershy jolted, and the blood drained from her face while streaks of crimson started running down her leg. Her eyes rolled up into her head, and then the pegasus collapsed.

“FLUTTERSHY!” Rarity screamed, recoiling in horror.

“Medicae! Someone get a medicae in here!” Erin bolted away from Rainbow Dash and then scooped up Fluttershy, lifting her out of the magic circle.

“Uh, yeah, see… that’s not really how this works,” Shifty Sights said awkwardly. “We’re in Omega-level quarantine so long as the ritual is in effect. Nobody’s allowed in or out.”

“I will place an alert for support, but Lady Sights is correct. They will be unable to assist until they are certain this sanctum is safe,” Serith explained, touching his fingers to the side of his helmet.

Erin placed Fluttershy on her side, and then pressed a hand against her wound to stem the bleeding. “All right, fine! Shifty, come here!”

“Uh, okay, sure,” the Sorceress trotted up behind her, feeling somewhat at a loss among the panic swallowing the rest of the room. “You know I don’t do healing magic, right?”

Erin reached over to Shifty’s leg, grabbed onto the bandage wrappings around it, and then pulled hard. Shifty yelped and almost fell over before the wrappings came off, leaving Erin with a strip of old, tattered cloth.

“She needs this more than you do,” the refugee said, pressing it down on the deep gash under Fluttershy’s chest.

“Hey, can we put the kibosh on this ritual thing already?!” Applejack yelled anxiously. “Yer gonna get somepony killed!”

“We’re trying to get them out!” Vinyl assured her. “There’s something fighting us! Maybe the Destiny Cube itself!”

Mantis grunted, and beads of sweat started crawling down his brow and neck.

Twilight reeled back as her barrier flashed, once again knocking aside the daemon’s attack. She moved further away and started circling around the monolith, staying well out of reach of the monster. The black ooze continued to seep from the breach in the stone, and as the shadowy mass swelled it formed more discrete shapes.

A second talon erupted from the mass, shuddering as the body behind it emerged and hardened. A seam split on the mound of pitch, and then opened to form an eye with a bright purple iris. More eyes opened up underneath the first, many of them glowing with silvery light.

“What are you?! WHO are you?!” Twilight demanded, her shock and anger rapidly giving way to anger. “Did you destroy the core? Did you break all the memory blocks?!”

“Princess, stop bellowing at that thing and get over here!” Mantis shouted. “We have to leave at once!”

The Hierophant bowed his head and closed his eyes, and dark purple flames engulfed the tips of his horns. His concentration intensified, building a pattern in the Warp while also expanding his sixth sense. He opened his eyes again, and they shined with golden light.

Twilight looked over at the stallion, then back to the daemon. It was still growing, with numerous shadowy tendrils wrapped around the monolith like an octopus clinging to a branch of coral. She clenched her teeth angrily, but resigned herself to escape; the daemon didn’t seem to be answering her questions anyway, and it was unclear what, if anything, they would gain from stopping it.

“Well, if we can’t get anything useful out of the artifact after all, maybe Solon can use you instead,” she spat, turning away and flying toward Mantis. “Hopefully he can turn you into a daemon-empowered space belt or something.”

“Princess, PLEASE stop conversing with the Warpspawn and make haste!” Mantis shouted while the magic energy around his horns intensified.

Latching onto the psychic energy being fed to him by the other unicorns, Mantis ripped open a new exit. It was difficult; much more difficult than expected, in fact. He suspected that the daemon had somehow reinforced the boundary of this quasi-dimensional space to keep them from disengaging, but his ritual precautions had pre-empted such a ploy. A glowing seam slowly tore open behind the goat-horned pony, spilling bright purple light from the breach.

The daemon leapt from the monolith, landing on the cluster of tentacles that made up its lower body. It slid across the ground toward Twilight, eyes fixed on its prey. One of the tendrils lifted from the ground and slid around a data block, yanking it free of its bizarre hovering stasis.

Twilight grimaced and built her altitude higher, preparing to evade. The daemon lifted up the block and spun around once, building up momentum before releasing the stone projectile. When it did, however, it wasn’t aimed at Twilight.

“Oh,” was about all Mantis managed before the construct plowed into him, smashing him off his hooves and into the portal.

Mantis was launched backward into the air, wailing in pain and flailing his legs in a panic. The goat-horned pony slammed hard into a brazier, and a loud crack came from his left foreleg after he bounced off and landed in a heap. Glowing embers and dusty ash jumped from the brazier at the impact, slowly floating down to mix with the blood splashed over the base.

“LORD MANTIS NO!!” Snow Fallie jumped up and raced to his side, and Vinyl Scratch was right behind her.

Serith stopped pacing around the room. “Hmmm... It seems the Hierophant has escaped. Or was ejected.” Twilight still stood in the middle of her ritual circle, unmoving. “This has gotten more complicated.”

Mantis hissed in pain and rolled himself over so he wasn’t lying on his broken leg. “E… Ejected…” he said while blood dribbled from between clenched teeth. “It… It was a trap. A daemon… it was waiting for her.”

Serith stopped short, but said nothing. On the other side of the ritual circle, Erin had finished dressing Fluttershy’s wound and had moved onto Rainbow Dash, still tearing bandages free from Shifty as needed. The Dark Sorceress pouted as her second leg was exposed, but offered no complaint.

“Daemon? Just one? Twi can handle that,” Rainbow grunted.

“It’s not that simple,” Shifty Sights warned.

“Twi has cooked LOTS of daemons! We cleared an entire cruiser once!” the pegasus retorted.

“Yeah, with Luna’s help,” Applejack reminded her. “She’s all alone in there now!”

“She’s not alone. We’re with her,” Rarity said sharply.

“And she will need your protection,” Serith added. “This is no heady incursion into the Warp or brutal mission here in the Materium. The daemon has chosen this time and place for a reason.”

“You… You…” Twilight saw red as the exit portal vanished, taking Mantis with it. Her horn started to pulse with energy in tune with her heartbeat, and her bionic eye generated a targeting reticule. “You insipid, meddling, puerile ball of psychic filth!”

The daemon’s gaze had never left its main target while it was dispatching the other pony, and the eyes narrowed.

“You want to fight?! Okay! LET’S FIGHT!!” The young Princess was beyond infuriated now, and had been cut off from any obvious method of retreat. There was probably a way to get out on her own, but she was increasingly disinterested in leaving before she had sent this intruder and saboteur back where it came from.

Twilight felt magic power flow through her, and then focused the energy on the tip of her horn. She switched her flight mode to hover and tilted down, pointing her entire body at the daemon like a living gun with her horn as the barrel. With a scream of anger and sorrow for that which had been lost, she unleashed her power.

A dart of bright purple energy burst out of Twilight’s horn, striking the daemon. It popped on impact, doing no appreciable damage. The daemon started advancing again, its arms raised to cut down the flying mare.

Twilight lifted her head up, frowning, and the magic charge around her horn faded. “There’s probably a perfectly rational explanation for this,” she said to herself. “I need a chalkboard so I can diagram this out.”

The daemon lunged, and Twilight flew straight up. The talons missed, slicing through the air, and it reached its tentacles toward another of the memory blocks.

“Okay well for SOME REASON most physics are working as expected in this psychic projection of a quasi-planar subspace but my magic power isn’t. As long as the daemon can’t fly I think I’ll be fine. I need to find a way to retaliate,” Twilight said to herself.

The daemon slithered across the ground on its tentacles, and then jumped onto one of the floating data blocks. The tendrils wrapped around the construct fully, as if the Warpspawn was trying to constrict the block, with the main body of the daemon hugging the side.

“What are you doing NOW?” Twilight demanded. “If you’re threatening to destroy the information stored here to make me mad, it… well… it’s definitely working, but it doesn’t change my options!”

The daemon quivered. White light seemed to seep from the data block into its tentacles, and the stone of the construct rapidly turned to a bleak, dusty gray. The daemon’s eyes glowed, starting with its main central eye and then filling each of the smaller ones below it.

“It’s… draining the memory block? Wait! I understand now! This is-“

A beam fired from the daemon’s central eye, slamming into the airborne pony mid-sentence.

“GWARGARGHBLE!!” Pinkie Pie was suddenly consumed by light before rocketing backward into the air. She landed on her side and rolled across the floor, eventually hitting the wall with a yelp of pain. Her coat and mane were scorched, and her eyes spun in her sockets for a few seconds before she passed out entirely.

“Pinkie! No! Erin, can you make sure she’s okay?” Rarity asked.

“I was going to see to Mantis next; is she bleeding?” Erin asked, grabbing hold of another of Shifty’s legs.

“Hey, c’mon, I’m running out of coverings!” the Tzeentch cultist complained.

“And we’re runnin’ outta friends!” Applejack snapped. “One o’ you daggum space wizards get yer act together and DO SOMETHIN’!!”

Rarity shrieked in pain. A long gash opened up over her flank, splashing blood across Applejack’s shoulder pad.

Twilight flinched as the daemon was repelled by a sudden burst of magical light, its claw bouncing off of a shimmering barrier. She turned and fled, the magic circle underneath her sweeping across the gray, featureless floor. The daemon gave chase, frustrated as it was by the mysterious shield.

Twilight herself didn’t quite understand why every attack that should have struck her was deflected, but she didn’t want to test the limits of the arcane defense. Besides, she felt strangely queasy every time it happened, an ache settling in her heart that she couldn’t explain. She banished such thoughts and kept running, returning her concentration to the matter of energy inflows and psychic power.

“This space is a blackstone construct. It’s cut off from the Warp on purpose, which is why I can’t use magic normally here! There no mana source!” She launched into the air again, and started to build altitude while veering back and forth between the floating marble blocks.

“But there IS magic energy here! It’s in the artifact’s system constructs! The monolith! The data blocks! Presumably also a network substructure underpinning this space to move energy from one part of the artifact to the other! Maybe if I-“

Twilight caught a gleaming light out of the corner of her eye, and then dropped back behind a construct just as another energy beam lanced by her.

Applejack bristled as she felt a tingly wave of heat run down her neck and back, and she squeezed her eyes shut while she waited for a more substantial impact.

“Twi, Ah know ya probably can’t hear this, but ya really gotta work on yer evasion,” Applejack grumbled, bracing herself as best she could.

Mantis grimaced, and then looked up at the Cabal unicorns standing over him protectively. “Help me up.”

Snow Fallie helped lift him upright, but Vinyl Scratch hesitated.

“What are you going to do? Do you have a plan?” the DJ asked.

“No. But I have a functional magic defense and a mostly intact skeleton. Help me over to the warding circle.”

Snow hesitated, her ears flipping down. “W-Wait… you mean you’re going to join the warding?”

“Yes. And you two are joining me,” Mantis grunted, giving Snow a push. “Hurry!”

Twilight jumped up into a hover again, this time moving up to the data block she was sheltering behind.

“This feels so wrong… Like I’m… eating a book or something,” she made a disgusted expression before she reached out and touched the flat, cracked surface of the construct.

A massive portal spinning in open space. Needle-shaped void ships like black daggers crossing in front of a star. Maps. More maps. Planets, suns, moons, nebulae. So many maps. A city of black spires, or maybe a planet? Keys. Symbols. Runes. Blood. Voices babbled and lectured above it all, some panicked and angry, others calm and clinical, speaking words she didn’t understand but would probably never forget.

Twilight clenched her teeth as the surge of information flooded into her, but didn’t recoil. Then she went deeper, feeling the current of power underneath the images. A humming wellspring of psychic power holding together the scraps of data that remained.

She felt bile in her throat. Not at what she was witnessing or had beheld but at what she had to do. A desecration she would not have forgiven under less dire circumstances.

She drank in the energy, draining it utterly. Her horn lit ablaze with power, her remaining eye became a window of gleaming light, and her body – or rather the psychic avatar she inhabited in this space – was filled with renewed might. Her armor – useless in this space as it was – simply peeled away into nothing, and her body was surrounded by a shining purple halo.

The marble block was drained of color, and the massive crack that had impacted its face began to spread. It seemed to go gray and then slowly dissolve, coming apart in large chunks that floated away and evaporated.

A black tentacle darted through the drifting rubble, speeding toward Twilight like a spear.

“GWAH!” Applejack pitched to one side, a long bruise appearing on her face.

The Cabal ponies flinched back, and then Mantis limped forward toward the magic circle ahead of Snow Fallie.

“W-Wait! Hierophant, you’re-“

“Be silent, Magister,” Mantis snapped, taking position within the ring of glimmering runes. “I haven’t lost a psyker yet under my supervision and I’m not going to start with TWILIGHT bucking SPARKLE!”

Applejack was breathing heavily and tasted blood in her mouth, but she didn’t step away. The wound she had taken wasn’t nearly as bad as the others had suffered so far. The farmer lifted her head to look the Hierophant in the eyes, and then she arched an eyebrow.

“Not that Ah don’t appreciate it, but didn’t ya say we needed to have some kinda connection with Twi fer this thing to work? That ya brought us here ‘cuz we were her closest friends?”

“Necessity is the mother of invention,” Mantis said through the pain still rolling through his body, “and desperation is the essence of camaraderie. Scratch! Fallie! Get over here!”

The mares were obviously very nervous about their new role, but they stepped up on either side of Mantis nonetheless.

“It’s going to be okay,” Snow Fallie said, her voice shaking only slightly. “Princess Twilight can handle-“

Then her eyes bulged and she was launched violently from the circle.

Twilight flinched as another tentacle tried to swipe at her, only to again hit a barrier and bounce off.

The daemon surged toward her, its body carried high in the air and one claw scything down toward her head.

“Got you!” A beam erupted from Twilight’s horn like a cannon shot, and the daemon’s claw vanished within a stream of purple light.

Its eyes widened as the beam ripped through the side of its body, and the twisted black mass was thrown back. A tentacle whipped back around to try to strike from the side, but Twilight jumped into the air to evade it.

“Yeek!” Vinyl yelped as she felt a tremor run through her body, but after a tense moment no actual harm befell her.

“Is Fallie all right?” Mantis demanded through clenched teeth.

“She landed badly, but nothing’s broken!” Erin announced, kneeling next to the unicorn lying limply next to the wall. “Shifty, get over here!”

“Why? You already took all the wrappings!” Shifty Sights complained while she trotted over. Her body was mostly exposed now, revealing that there were numerous scars carved into the shape of spell runes in her coat. She still had her cape, however, as well as her blindfold.

Erin turned and reached for the blindfold. Shifty gasped and then bit her hand. The refugee recoiled, snatching her arm away.

“Why did you do that, you useless witch?!” Erin screamed, her hand twitching toward her waist for her sidearm.

“The blindfold STAYS ON. ALWAYS.” Shifty said hotly, her blade-tipped tail standing straight up in the air like that of an agitated cat. “Take the cloak if you’re really that hard up for cloth, but you do NOT touch the blindfold!”

“EEYAAAAAGH!!” Vinyl’s glasses shattered as she was suddenly hurled across the room screaming.

“Hrrrgh!” Twilight shook as another tentacle slammed against her barrier, and her senses briefly went haywire. The shield seemed to be weakening with successive attacks, and it was a distinct trans-dimensional magic entanglement that she couldn’t feed with the energy in the artifact. She was running out of time, and fast.

That left only one thing to do with the energy, as far as she was concerned.

“Die! Die!! DIE!!!” Purple energy bolts launched from Twilight’s horn with every word, hammering the daemon back. Tendrils were ripped away by streams of power and eyes were crushed to a pulp before the barrage.

Every energy bolt was weaker than the last, however, and Twilight felt her magic power drain away with shocking speed. The young Princess stopped firing, and then turned to gallop away.

The daemon surged forward immediately, its eyes gleaming. Warpstuff oozed from its wounds like crude oil, splashing onto the ground in grotesque puddles, but the predator paid it no mind. Twilight raced under one data block, but rather than trying to follow, the daemon jumped on top, and its tentacles wrapped around it to drain its energy.

Twilight glanced behind her, furrowed her brow, and then jumped. She twisted in the air to land hooves-first on the face of a different construct, and her wings spread as the knowledge and magic flowed into her.

Dozens of stars passed before her eyes. Stars the size of asteroids, stars the size of some entire systems. Neutron stars. Healthy trinary clusters. Cataclysmic novas. Factoids followed each image; a neat little line of crucial statistics that stuck to each separate vision. It was the first genuinely and entirely beautiful collection of images she’d encountered so far in this space, and fresh anger welled in her heart at the thought that she was going to erase it so she could bludgeon the wretched monster chasing her.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” With a furious scream, Twilight fired a lance of pure energy at the daemon.

The daemon’s eyes flashed with light, and a similar magic lance erupted from it.

The beams crashed into each other, and the nearby data blocks quivered from the shock waves rolling through the space. Bright red pounded against glimmering purple, throwing blasts of coruscating sparks in all directions. A constant roar echoed around Twilight’s ears, and she clenched her teeth.

“You want me?! Was that the point of all this?! Just another stupid assassination attempt?! FINE. COME GET ME!!” Twilight screamed, her beam doubling in strength.

The daemon quivered, feeling its strength flagging even as the construct below it started to crumble away to nothing. Its eyes widened, and its tentacles started slithering outward from its perch. The energy beam streaming from its central eye was pushed back, gradually thinning while Twilight’s magic plowed through it.

Then the daemon’s stray tentacles lashed around two nearby blocks, rapidly drawing their power into its core.

“Well… drat,” Twilight mumbled right before the screaming river of power overtook her.

Mantis screamed in pain, his coat seeming to burn around him as he was shoved off of the warding circle. His eyes fluttered closed as he slumped to the deck, smoke rising from his body.

“Yeah, Ah felt that one too!” Applejack complained, squeezing her eyes shut while wisps of smoke started rising from the gorget of her armor.

Erin threw Shifty’s cloak over Mantis, and then leaned down next to him to check his vitals. Shifty Sights stood behind her, completely naked aside from her blindfold and horseshoes.

“He passed out! His heartbeat is fading too!” Erin proclaimed after checking the Hierophant’s pulse. “If we don’t get a medicae in here soon some of them aren’t going to make it out of this!”

Rainbow Dash growled from where she was sitting on the floor, bloodied bandages wrapped clumsily around her leg and wing. “This is so stupid! She’s right there!” Rainbow pointed to Twilight’s body standing stock-still in the middle of the warding circle. “You’re telling me there’s no way to just… unplug her or something?”

“You may rage against the reality of our circumstances all you wish,” Serith advised her, still staring at the pages of his book. “If we remove Lady Sparkle’s body from its link to the Destiny Cube, which has her soul, what do you imagine would happen?”

“Well it’s obviously not ‘her soul returns safely to her body and everypony’s fine’ or you wouldn’t have asked,” Rarity grumbled.

“Isn’t there ANYTHING you can do?!” Rainbow raged, standing up and bristling in the manner of an angry cat.

“I suppose I could give the warding circle a try myself, if we wish to truly test the prerequisite of having a substantial bond with the subject,” Serith mused.

“Seething resentment is a KIND of emotional attachment,” Shifty offered.

Applejack screamed in pain, and a loud creak came from her armor.

Twilight grimaced as the tendrils wrapped around the flickering barrier, squeezing tighter as if the shield were a metal ring that was slowly giving way. She glared up at the daemon and her horn flashed, drawing on her last scraps of magic power as the monstrosity reared back its remaining claw.

“Hrrrgh!” Applejack started choking as she felt her body being squeezed on all sides. A rattle came from her armor, but as her vision started to swim it sure seemed to her that the wargear was helpless to protect against the damage.

“NO MORE!! I’M SICK OF THIS, DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

Rainbow Dash suddenly bolted for the Destiny Cube, much to the shock of the others.

“GIVE ME MY FRIEND BACK YOU STUPID CUBE!!” Rainbow spun around in mid-air, landing on her forelegs with her rear legs bunched up next to the floating artifact.

“W-Wait! No!” Shifty stuttered, right before Rainbow bucked the Destiny Cube across the room.

Twilight felt a slight lurching sensation.

In an instant, all of the floating data blocks shifted sharply to one side by several meters. Twilight felt one of them brush her wingtips, but otherwise she was blessedly untouched by the unexpected motion.

The daemon, being much larger, was not so fortunate.

A strangle warbling noise filled the air as one of the marble constructs slammed into its side. The tentacle trying its best to crush Twilight was flung loose, and her eye widened at the inexplicable turn in fortune.

Twilight bolted away toward another data block on the opposite side of the daemon from the one that had hit it. She leapt onto the face, her mind filling with imagery of a far-off war and horrific imagery of death. Her mind reached into the construct, configuring the energies there to her will. Behind her, the daemon peeled itself off of the unexpected obstacle, its eyes swimming across its core to spot its prey.

“Eat THIS!” Twilight cried, zipping straight up into the air.

The data block she had touched suddenly exploded on one side, the marble bursting open and launching the stone straight towards the Warpspawn. The daemon’s eyes widened in the split second before impact, crushing it between the memory constructs.

Twilight twisted about and flew away, not bothering to check her handiwork. Daemons were immortal creatures that could not truly be killed; only temporarily banished. She wasn’t at all sure which rules applied to this quasi-physical transdimensional projected space, but the monster had gotten the drop on her too many times already. The magic circle, once a glittering and elaborate golden wreathe under her hooves, was a flickering shambles now. It spun in fits and starts, large sections of the runic script were missing, and the glow dimmed constantly, like a lumen on the verge of dying. She didn’t think she could rely on it to turn away another blade, and she didn’t intend to put it to the test.

The young Princess soared over the vast library of arcane monoliths. They seemed distinctly disturbed now, even more than before. Several were floating unusually high or low off the ground, and the limited sense of uniformity that had arranged the constructs had been severely disordered by whatever had happened.

There was one construct that had not been obviously affected, though.

Twilight landed in front of the monolith at the center of the artifact. The core. The daemon’s hiding place. It still bore an enormous gouge from the Warpspawn’s emergence, and it was a dusty gray just like the data blocks that had been drained of energy.

When Twilight touched the monolith’s surface, however, it was not inert. There was power there. And, surprisingly, emotion. Sadness and fear welled up at her touch, and the young alicorn felt the surface start to give way. Her hoof sunk into the stone facing and started drawing in the rest of her body. Twilight did not resist. There was still something here, some remnant, and she had to find it.

Her senses went fuzzy, and the surroundings faded away into a colorless haze. The sky, or the sterile, well-lit space that passed for the sky here, was replaced by a void filled with stars. The space around her was a flat, empty floor, featureless and stretching off into infinity.

But Twilight Sparkle was focused on the body in front of her. It was an indistinct, blurry thing, like mist trying to squeeze itself into a consistent shape. It was much larger than a human, but beyond that it seemed to defy any distinct appearance.

“Are you… the voice? The one that called to me?” Twilight whispered.

Yes… I am… sorry.

“But you did it! You succeeded! We rescued you!” the Princess argued.

So many… lost. Too many… could not… be saved. Destroyed in mind or body. Failure…

The entity seemed to shudder, a ripple pulsing through the fog.

And then… IT… reached me. Warpspawn. Daemon. Hunter. It… hid here… feasting… gnawing and seeding my… transmissions…

Twilight shook her head. “I can stop it! We can defeat it if we work together!”

I cannot… there is… nothing… I do not have enough… power to resist… immense drain… to… communicate. Links to… memory… failed. Processing… failed. It allowed me… this much… only to maintain… illusion… deception…

Twilight felt a tear crawl down her cheek as the words from the artifact started to break down. “There’s so much I want to ask! So much we could still learn from you! There has to be a way!”

There is… no… way. Survival… you… leave. Last… reserves… will not… endure… core purge.

“What? What does that mean?” Twilight demanded. “You’re not going to survive if I leave?! You can’t!”

A cracking sound came from behind her. A night-black talon, like a farmer’s scythe of pure ebony, emerged from the ground and scraped across the floor. It was nearly ten feet away from Twilight, but it appeared to be dragging something behind it and opening the way.

“There has to be something we can do!” the lavender mare shouted, her bionic eye lighting up. “Don’t give up! We worked so hard to get this far!”

The crack widened, and an eye emerged at the head of a lumpy dark mass.

No more… time.

The mist suddenly washed over Twilight, seeping all around her. She felt a new surge of magical energy around her, but this time it wasn’t her horn draining what reserves it could find. Something was happening. A last, desperate spark of power flared around her, and then it was rapidly consumed.

The daemon drew itself up out of the breach in the ground. Its body was regenerated. Its talons reared back for the kill. The bulbous mass that was its central body opened up, revealing a mouth full of needle-like teeth.

“NO! GET BACK HERE! DIE!!” the Warpspawn snarled, speaking for the first time while leaping toward the pony.

Twilight closed her eye, and then darkness consumed her.

I am sorry…

Twilight gasped and then stumbled, falling onto her belly. Tears streamed from her remaining eye, and her heart thundered in her chest. As she slowly regained her senses, she stared down at the deck below her. It was a music note drawn into a spiral, with a jagged tail. Blood was splattered over it.

“T… Twi?” gasped a voice behind her.

Twilight raised her head and looked around. Applejack was still standing in the circle, looking ragged and heaving for breath like the air had been choked out of her. Fluttershy and Mantis were unconscious and laid out on a bloodied cloth that she recognized as a magic cloak. Rainbow Dash was pinned to the deck under the butt of Serith’s halberd, squirming angrily. Shifty Sights was naked except for her blindfold, and seemed to pause mid-argument with Vinyl Scratch, who had a bloody nose and appeared to be without her glasses. Rarity and Pinkie Pie, both visibly injured, gaped in surprise, their expressions brightening tremendously at the sight of the young Princess.

“What… happened?” Twilight mumbled weakly, light-headed and exhausted. She would have surely slumped to the deck were she not wearing her power armor.

Before she could say anything else Rarity raced toward her and seized her tightly in a hug. Twilight felt new tears emerging when she saw the dirty bandaging tied awkwardly around Rarity’s barrel. She groped for the right words, but she felt utterly overwhelmed.

“Rarity, you… how did…” she started mumbling, but the white unicorn just hugged her tighter, running a hoof through her mane.

“Sssssh…,” Rarity whispered, her mascara leaving dark streaks down her cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re back. You made it, Twilight. Everything is going to be okay.”

Serith watched the display with rapidly waning interest, and then finally took his weapon off of Rainbow Dash’s back. The Sorcerer held the Destiny Cube in his free hand, and although the artifact had clearly survived Rainbow’s attack it now sported a web of black, oil-like veins running over one side. It was not obvious if the damage was from being kicked or something else.

A bright red lumen on the sanctum door turned green, indicating an end to the quarantine lockdown. A loud creak rolled through the room, and the metal barrier yawned open. The still-conscious ponies whirled about, quite eager to leave the confines of the psykant laboratories.

Gaela stood outside the doorway, staring silently at the brutalized equines. Next to her was Spike and Doctor Claret Heartthrob, whose jaw dropped open at the sight. The two Iron Warrior guards were behind her, apparently interested to see what had come of the ritual that someone had called for medicae support.

“What in Starswirl’s name happened here?!” Claret shouted, an arc buzzing around the chain hanging from her horn.

“Daemon attack,” Pinkie said before coughing painfully.

“Told you,” Spike quipped. “It happens.”

“Did you kill it?” Gaela asked.

Twilight heaved a miserable sigh. “No.”

“Unfortunate,” Gaela said, turning around. “Medicae, begin emergency treatment. I will procure a mag-lev cart to carry the wounded to the apothecarion.”

“At this rate they might as well bunk there,” Claret grumbled.

Harvest of Steel
Deck C-13 – Twilight Sparkle’s quarters

“… but I couldn’t save it. I couldn’t stop the daemon, and the core ejected me from the artifact. I don’t know precisely what happened, but my best guess is that it used the last of its energy to expel my psychic presence and save me from the daemon. It’s highly likely that there’s nothing in there but the corrupted data stacks now. Just that and the monster slowly feeding on them.”

Twilight laid on her bunk while she gave her report, her ears pinned back and her expression utterly defeated. Her armor was discarded at the front of the room, and an empty ration tin lay atop a haphazard pile of dataslates next to the metal slat that she slept on. A holo-screen hovered on the wall displaying Solon’s face positioned in front of a dim background of shuddering machinery.

“I’m sorry, Warsmith. I failed,” Twilight sighed. “I dropped my whole team and a handful of others into a war zone, but the whole thing was an elaborate trap after all. It’s only thanks to the Hierophant’s prudence that it only ended with all my friends beaten up rather than me dead or possessed.”

Solon was obviously working on something else while she spoke, but after she finished he looked up to address her. The trio of red lights on the left side of his helmet pulsed, briefly covering the screen image in crimson.

“Failed? Do you think you failed me?”

Twilight arched an eyebrow, then thought about it. “I… suppose the only mission you gave me directly was to recover the artifact and I did that. But… I don’t know. This really feels like a massive letdown for everyone.”

“I can only guessh at the rewardsh within the Deshtiny Cube that are now out of our grashp,” Solon admitted, not noticing when Twilight’s eye twitched, “but in the end it wash a trap. Enemy action that aimed to deshtroy you, shpecifically. Your duty in thoshe circumshtancesh wash to shurvive, and sho you have.”

Twilight grimaced, her eye glancing away.

“… Do you regret it?” Solon asked after a long pause. “Would you have preferred Sherith talk me out of the deployment if you could do it all again?”

“Well, I… I mean… there’s a lot of LITTLE regrets, but, uh…” she looked away again, toward a small bronze amulet sitting on the counter next to her cogitator. A crude metal emblem of a wyrm curled into a circle. The only thing they took from Ulaisse other than the artifact and Erin Whyd.

“I… don’t,” Twilight admitted, feeling slightly relieved to speak the words. “Strategically speaking, we risked way too much to save a single refugee and an arcane death trap. But…” her brow furrowed under her horn. “I’m still glad we saved Erin. And I’m very glad we destroyed the Patriarch. I don’t know if it was the artifact or the daemon whispering to me back then, asking me to tear the heart out of the cult, but… I’m glad we did it. Something like that should not be allowed to survive if we can help it.”

A deep, throaty chuckle can from the holo-screen. “You’ve come shuch a long way, Princessh.”

“… Thank you,” Twilight replied evenly, unsure of what, precisely to make of the comment.

“Are we certain that none of the information you recovered ish usheful after all? No intereshting tidbitsh that you wouldn’t expect to find in our archivesh?”

“I don’t have the slightest idea,” the mare grunted sourly. “That’s the worst part about it all! All the data in each block I touched was all just dumped into my brain with a bunch of holes and zero context! What’s the Hadresparr? Why does it matter when it crossed Saytorian? Why was someone mapping all the trinary star systems in the Hyruso sector? I know that metamites are some kind of space crabs, but everything else that might have made that knowledge useful is missing! And what the hay is a ‘webway?’”

“A webway is a network of shtabilized Warp pathwaysh connected by fixed gatewaysh,” Solon explained. “It ish primarily accesshed by Eldar to enable shafe, shpeedy travel over vasht dishtancesh.”

“Oh. Well… okay then,” Twilight mumbled. “So I guess I did get some coordinates relating to that. I think. They all had the same word associated with them though, so I’d guess they all go to the same place. I don’t know if that’s very helpful.”

“What word wash that?”

“Commorragh.”

Author's Note

Hello everyone!
I'm very sorry about how long this one took, but I have an excuse! I delayed working on this chapter so I could write a chapter of Gear in the Machine instead! And then the file for that chapter just disappeared when I was almost done writing it. Just... vanished. No trash, no trace. Called tech support, no help. :fluttershbad:
So that was quite a bummer, as it ate up a lot of writing time and I have nothing at all to show for it. But eventually I did get this done, and before Christmas, too. Yay? :trixieshiftleft: