Suffer Not the Unclean to Live

560.M40, the xenos world of Equestria is discovered by a small Explorator vessel. The Administratum hurriedly schedules the world for a thorough purging of the native xenos life forms. The Blood Angels chapter of Adeptus Astartes promptly receive a request to purge the world fifty years later. Lord Commander Dante, returning to the Chapter Fortress on Baal from a campaign against the Orks, diverts his forces to deal with the xenos before returning home…

Princess Celestia looked out over the veranda. Her capital city of Canterlot sprawled out before her, and the countryside of Equestria beyond that. Every-pony went about their normal business in the city. In the distance Celestia could make out the small village of Ponyville, where her beloved Twilight Sparkle resided and studied with her friends. All was right in he kingdom. However, Celestia could not shake the feeling that something was about to happen to change that…

Scootaloo sped along at a phenomenal speed. A humongous grin spread across her face as she pushed herself to newer, greater speeds. As she entered the town square of Ponyville the mare found herself jinking and weaving in-between buildings and other ponies, narrowly avoiding collision by a mane’s hair, much to the chagrin of the pedestrian ponies. As she exited the other side of the town she afforded herself a small chuckle. She’s made it through without crashing again. Suddenly somepony turned the corner, and Scootaloo swerved a hard right to avoid crashing, sending her flying across the dirt street and her scooter crashing into a cart of carrots. Several ponies, including the owner of the now wrecked cart and despoiled carrots, gathered around her, their frowns making clear their feelings. Scootaloo looked up to meet their disappointed gazes. Somepony had the angriest eyes, almost fiery. No. They weren't someponie’s eyes… There were too many. Something smoldered to earth. A cry went up from the town.
“Look! Up in the sky!”
Few had time to look up before the first drop pod hit the ground. Smashing into a cottage, the strange object demolished the quaint building. Several more of the pods slammed down all around the ponies, flattening houses, leaving scores of ponies to be crushed by falling debris.
Utter panic. Shell shocked ponies huddled in fear, hoping to survive the rain of wood and metal. Ponies ran helter skelter, seeking shelter that did not exist, for their flimsy wooden houses could not halt the descent of these pods, nor shield them from the impact. Scootaloo hauled herself to her hooves, just before one of the pods smashed into the ground right beside her. The concussive force from the impact sent her, as well as the ponies around her flying in all directions. A jagged piece of timber from the carrot cart sailed through the air and impaled it’s former owner through the skull, his lifeless corpse ragdolling next to Scootaloo’s inert form. She looked at her hooves, bits of brain and fragmented skull splattered all over them, then at the corpse, positioned in a mangled parody of death. She wanted to vomit. She did. Scootaloo looked up. Like the pedals of some terrible flower, the pod opened. Out stepped several bulky armoured figures, in gore red armour.
“Squad Bloodspear on the ground.” One boomed, it’s great echoing voice nearly deafening the traumatized pony. “Brother, cleanse and REJOICE!” They took up their weapons and began a steady advance into the village, the booming reports of their rifles like hammers in her ear drums. Her ears began to bleed. Suddenly one of the figures took several, slow, striding steps towards her. No, not towards her. It walked to a gravely wounded pony near her as she desperately tried to drag herself away, clearly in the throes of shock, muttering under her breath. With cool contempt this thing, this MONSTER, leveled a pistol at the wounded pony, and fired a shot. The pony popped, in a shower of blood, ending it’s suffering in an extreme display of violence. Scootaloo gave a small squeal of terror, one she quickly stifled. It was enough to catch the attention of the monster. She lay as still as she could, hoping it would ignore her. Amazingly the monster shook it’s head and walked off to join it’s brethren.
Her heart beat like a hammer in her chest. Her breathing steadied as it walked off. Her ears still ringing she could hear the dead and dying ponies, and the distant boom of the monster’s weapons. She breathed a sigh of relief, thankful she could not count herself among those being slaughtered around her, though she debated whether she was the fortunate one. Then suddenly she saw a flash of red in her periphery. With a sharp turn of the head she looked to the right. Another monster stood over her. It stared at her for several seconds, watching this writhing bloodied, scared, tiny mare. It shook its head, and raised it’s massive foot.
“Disgusting…”
The boot made impact with her skull. Blackness.