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
So now you just have to wait to learn what the hay all this was about!
Chapter art by BlazingStred. Thanks, Stred!