Pony Tales from the 41st Millennium

by ProfCharles

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Crossover, Dark, Main 6, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 5518

The enemies of the Imperium of Ponykind are without number, as are the heroes who stand against them.

The enemies of the Imperium of Ponykind are without number, as are the heroes who stand against them.

A collection of short stories showcasing life in the ponified 41st millennium.

Published 2013-04-14 19:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-04-14 19:10:02 UTC

Applejack

Great Southern Desert, Aesusess

“Hold the line! Hold the line!” cried an orange Earth Pony, her Stetson threatening to blow away in the wake of a nearby explosion. “Stop those bastards! For the God-Princess!”

“Yes, Captain!” cried the troops of the Appleloosan 76th, or the Desert Rangers as they prefered to be called, as they charged towards the advancing Rhinox, saddle mounted lasguns firing into the horde.

Captain Applejack surveyed her position. Ahead of her were the Rhinox, savage beasts whose appetite for war matched no others. Slightly larger than a pony, with sharp horns and thick, shaggy hides, they wielded a motley collection of crude and primitive weapons and armour.

Behind her were the gleaming towers of Aesusess Secondary, the second largest city on the planet. And her troops were tasked with holding the line against the horned menace.

Another explosion tore at Applejack’s hat as a crudely made artillery shell detonated nearby, sending a dozen ponies into the God-Princess’s wings. Applejack had no time to mourn, however, as she spotted a mob of Rhinoxes break away and charge towards her through the newly created gap.

Adjusting her lasrifle, she turned to her squad. “With me, sugarcubes! Lets show these waddling pigs how it’s done! For the God-Princess!”

“For the God-Princess!” the squad roared back, before following Applejack’s lead and charging into the fray.

Within seconds Applejack was surrounded by a whirlwind of horns and axes and crude pistols firing wildly into the melee, but she was more than skilled enough to keep up. Whirling on the spot, she downed one Rhinox brute with a well placed buck, snapping its horn, at the same time as firing her lasrifle into another. She spun once again, rearing up and trampling a third Rhinox beneath her hooves. A fourth knocked her onto her back, its horn trying to gore her through her barding. By pure luck, it found a gap in her armour, leaving a long bloody scratch along her barrel, barely missing her internal organs.

Crying out in surprise, she bucked upwards, her hooves cracking against its bony chin and knocking it to the floor, where a well placed stomp put it out of its misery.

She turned to face the next foe, but to her surprise none were left. Glancing around, she saw what remained of her squad regroup around her. Less than a quarter of them had made it through that tussle, despite outnumbering them two to one, but that was more than enough. They were Guardsponies, after all.

Applejack looked around, ignoring the pain coming from her barrel, and instead focused on the horde before them.

“Job’s not done yet,” she said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “Lets give these—”

Whatever she was going to say next was cut off as an artillery shell struck the middle of the group, the explosion sending her flying.

Applejack landed hard, rolling on the ground. Her whole body burned with pain, and she felt something wet run down her back. Her vision beginning to fade, she lifted her head and saw a group of Rhinoxes turn and head in her direction.

“Oh horseapples...”

Rarity

Nobles tower, New Canterlot Hive, New Canterlot XXI

Lady Rarity fussed at the mirror, using a brush to get her luxurious and gorgeous coiffure just right. After all, a mare such as her had to work hard to win the heart of Governor Blueblood.

Rarity stifled a squeal of joy at the thought of her charming prince. Blueblood had been surprisingly charming to her so far, since most ponies chose to avoid her, and not just because she wasn’t a true noblepony.

After all, many ponies were terrified of psykers.

Rarity sighed at the gaping holes where her once beautiful eyes used to sit. Burnt out by the soul binding, all that was left of them was scarred tissue marring her face. Still, her third eye more than made up for their loss, granting her extraordinary psychic powers. Even if they made her face horrifically ugly.

If she still had eyes, she would have closed them as she concentrated, sending out a burst of psychic energy, levitating a fine, silk blindfold over her face, hiding her eyes. She could have done it with her inherent Unicorn magic, but she preferred psychic manipulation. Most Unicorn psykers did, due to the greater power and precision it granted. After all, why wear rhinestones when you could have diamonds?

A quick glance in the mirror at the snow white unicorn within showed her that she was perfect, ready for her meeting with her prince. Technically, he was only the governor of this system, but the archives suggested that Blueblood’s family line could be traced back to the God-Princess herself.

How the Ecclesiarchy hasn’t deemed that heretical is anypony’s guess, she wondered to herself as she walked through the lavish mansion that made up the top most spire of the hive, her staff of office floating alongside her.

Lost in thought, she was surprised to find herself outside of Blueblood’s study. She paused, before shooting a quick glare at the guard stood in front of the door.

The poor colt nearly fell over himself as he turned to announce her presence. “M-my Lordship? The Astropath Rarity is here to see you.”

“Send her in,” was the curt reply. Rarity stepped past the guard without giving him another look and into the room.

Blueblood’s study was extravagantly furnished, with rugs, tapestries, and furniture made from rare White Tail wood. Sat behind a large desk was the stallion in question—tall, strong and with a face that looked like it had been chiseled from marble. Rarity could feel her heart swoon.

“Rarity,” he said, standing up, “you look as dazzling as ever.”

“Oh, my Lord, you flatter me, surely,” Rarity giggled.

“It’s not flattery when it’s the truth,” he said, flashing a smile at her. “But I didn’t call you here just to admire your beauty.”

“Oh, then why did you summon me?” Rarity asked playfully.

Blueblood moved over to a bookcase. “Because I’ve been working on a little project, one which I am hoping someone of your talents can help me with.” He pulled a book of the shelf, causing the whole wall to slide into itself, revealing a secret passage.

“Oh my,” Rarity said, approaching the passage. “Have you been a naughty boy?”

Blueblood grinned at her. “Very.”

The two unicorns grinned and stepped into the corridor together. There were a few twists and turns, but overall it was a short route. At the end of the corridor was a large chamber, shrouded in darkness. Stood in the center of it was a ring of ponies, all wearing robes.

Rarity’s nose wrinkled as a foul stench assaulted her, and her horn tingled from the heavy psychic presence in the room.

“My Lord?” Rarity asked, concern heavy in her voice. “What is this?”

“Let me show you.” Blueblood put a hoof on her withers and pushed her forwards. The circle of ponies parted, admitting Rarity into the center. The foul stench and the tingle in her horn grew stronger.

Rarity opened her third eye fully and cast it about the room, gasping in shock. Located in the center of the circle of ponies was an alter, strange glowing runes upon its sides. And on top of it lay the eviscerated body of a young filly, her now activated witch sight showing her the horrors that had happened during the filly's final moments.

"Blueblood," Rarity said, her eyes fixated in horror upon the corpse. "What is the meaning of this?"

Rarity felt Blueblood’s lips move near her ear, his breath on her neck. "The meaning? Why, for the glory of Slaanesh, of course."

"For the Glory of Slaanesh," droned the amassed ponies.

Rarity flinched as if she had been slapped, the forbidden word an assault upon her very soul. Her horn screamed in protest and blood dripped from her nose.

She turned her head in shock, staring at Blueblood, her witch sight showing him for who he truly was.

An emaciated pony stood before her, cheeks gaunt and stretched in a rictus grin, drool leaking from between crooked teeth. A mad, feverish glow lit up his eyes, giving him a predatory look. He was a perversion of beauty and grace, given mortal form.

Rarity didn't have time to think before she slung a psychic bolt against him, snapping his neck instantly.

Panting, she looked around herself as the remaining cultists stared at her in hate and anger, before advancing on her as one.

"Hail Slaanesh," they chanted as one, ceremonial knives appearing from beneath the folds of their cloaks. "Hail Slaanesh and die."

Fluttershy

Emergency field hospital, Kneth Prime

"Wounded!" a nurse cried as another stampede of injured soldiers entered the already overflowing field hospital, her voice drowned out by the screams of the dying.

Battle Sister Fluttershy of the Sororitas Hospitaller flitted from bed to bed, tending to injuries, applying medication, changing bandages and offering a few words of comfort as needed.

"Sister, we need you!" cried a nurse, beckoning the yellow Pegasus over to a gurney, where a patient struggled against his bonds. "We need your help, this one's delirious!"

Fluttershy flew over to the group instantly, observing the situation. Without a word, she grabbed the stallion's head and stared deep into his eyes.

"Shush now, little one, you are safe," she murmured to him. With his attention now locked onto her, a nurse pumped a sedative into his bloodstream, sending the wounded pony into a deep sleep.

"Thank you, Sister," said the nurse. "We can take it from here."

Fluttershy nodded and flew off, only to be called down by another group.

"Sister! She's suffering from severe internal bleeding!"

Fluttershy nodded and picked up a knife, making a series of quick, clean incisions into the mares chest, seeking the problem.

A minute later and she found the piece of shrapnel that had penetrated the armour and cut a vein.

A few seconds afterwards and the mare died, Fluttershy still elbow deep into her body.

"I'm sorry," Fluttershy whispered, closing the mare's eyes. Another cry for help interrupted her mourning.

She left the bed and headed deep into the fray of doctors, nurses and dying soldiers.

Here was a Unicorn missing both hind legs, there was a Pegasus with a face full of shrapnel, a mare fused into her armour, a stallion driven mad by the horrors of war. The tide of injured never abated.

And Fluttershy was there for each and every one of them.

She flew down an aisle, eyes floating from bed to bed, patient to patient, when a weak voice caught her attention.

"Sister..."

She looked to one side and saw a wounded old stallion, a colonel judging by his pips, beckoning her. Fluttershy moved to his side and began to check his bandages, but her waved her off with a hoof.

"Don't bother sister, I've been in enough hospitals to know the truth. I'm dying." He coughed up some blood and went to spit it out, but glanced at Fluttershy and thought better off it.

"I'm here for you," Fluttershy said, her voice almost lost in the din of the makeshift hospital, wiping the blood away with a cloth.

"Thank you," the stallion wheezed, before reaching up to his throat and removing his ID tags. Alongside them, on a chain, was a heart shaped locket. After fumbling with it, Fluttershy took it off him and opened it, revealing the picture of a young mare wearing a matching uniform.

"She's beautiful. Your daughter?" Fluttershy asked.

"Yes. Sergeant Cloudkicker. I'm so proud of her," the stallion said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Sister, if I go before... Before..."

"I'll find her," Fluttershy promised, holding the stallion's hoof in her own. "I'll find her and tell her how proud you are."

The stallion sniffed. "Thank you, Sister. Could you... Could you stay with me, until the end?"

"Of course I can," Fluttershy said, gripping his hoof tighter, but the old stallion didn't seem to notice.

"You know, I always dreamed of dying with a pretty mare by my side," he joked, barking out a short laugh that devolved into a coughing fit. "Never thought it would come true though."

Fluttershy stroked the stallions head comfortingly. "Don't strain yourself too hard," she admonished.

"Heh, I suppose you're right." The stallion fell into silence. "My vision is fading now. The God-Princess, Celestia, she's waiting for me, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is," Fluttershy replied. "Waiting with open wings."

"Did... Did I make her proud?" There was fear in the stallion's voice now.

"As proud as you are of your own daughter," Fluttershy said. "She is so, so proud of you, and she loves you like only a mother can."

"Like a mother... Good... Remember.... Find her..." He closed his eyes, and a moment later stopped breathing.

"I promise I'll find her," Fluttershy whispered to the dead stallion. Then she stood up and left his bed.

There was still work to be done.

Rainbow Dash

Above the Volcanic Wastes, Knung

"...and then I kicked that Gryphon so hard his beak snapped clean off!" Laughter followed the rainbow maned Pegasus's declaration as she thrust a hoof into the air.

Captain Rainbow 'Danger' Dash looked around the small gunship at her fellow drop troopers, all proudly wearing the uniform of the Cloudsdale 84th, along with the converted Wonderbolt badge proclaiming them veterans of several drops.

They were an elite regiment, trained to the highest specifications in the subtle art of dropping behind enemy lines with all the fury of a lighting bolt.

Only the best for the God-Princess, after all.

The mood in the cramped Valkyrie was relaxed and easygoing. Dash smirked to herself. Her story had done an excellent easing tensions and calming nerves.

Not that her boys needed it, but old habits were hard to break.

"Entering DZ in five," a clipped voice said over the intercom. Rainbow acknowledged it with a curt reply as she began checking over her equipment one last time.

Wing mounted Lascarbines...check

Ammo...check

Armour...check

Grav chutes...check. Not that I need them.

Rainbow smiled. She was ready to bring down hell on the God-Princess's enemies.

Her smile turned into a frown as she remembered who her opponents were. Traitors... There was nothing she hated more than a traitor. The God-Princess gave them life, gave them homes, gave them protection from the horrors of the universe, and these... Bastards had the gall to spit into her face.

Her jaw began to ache, and she realised that she had been grinding her teeth together. She began to take deep breaths to calm herself—she could be hotheaded on the battlefield, but not before a jump. That's how most rookies died.

"Two minutes to D—" an explosion rocked the ship, cutting the pilot off. "We've been hit! Repeat, we've been hit! Triple A detected in the DZ!"

Dash leapt into action without pause, bucking the emergency hatch release. As the door fell away, she yelled at her troops.

"Out out out! Last one to hit the ground is grox-fodder!"

Her squad quickly vacated the out-of-control gunship, until only Dash and the pilot were left. She ran to the cockpit and stuck her head inside. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the co-pilot slumped in his chair, whilst the pilot struggled with the controls.

"Come on, we're getting you out of here," Dash said, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"No—Ah!—No can do, ma'am," he said, indicating to a large piece of shrapnel impaling him to his chair. Removing it would probably kill him. He turned to look at her, wincing as his insides tore. "Give 'em hell for me."

Rainbow paused for a second, before slowly nodding. "Will do. See you on the other side."

Before he could respond, she ran down the length of the gunship and flung herself out of it.

Moments later, it exploded in a fireball, burning shrapnel falling down to earth around her.

Rainbow ignored it. She had traitors to kill.

Pinkamena

Merchants wing, Ilenuona Space Station

Pinkamena Diane Pie crawled through the ridiculously spacious ventilation shaft in search for her targets. It's almost as if the pony who built this place wanted to be assassinated.

She paused at an intersection, brushing a lock of her long, straight mane out of her face, before checking her map. Okay, the meeting room where the targets are located is 100 meters to the... Left.

Pinkamena put the map away and turned down the appropriate shaft. A frown grew on her face as she mentally reviewed her targets again. A group of merchants trying to secure their dominance over the black market by directly trading xenos tech with Craftworld Gryphons. Bah, I shouldn't have to deal with something minor like this. I'm a bucking temple trained Eversor assassin! I should be taking out cults of daemon summoning heretics! Not a bunch of dodgy traders and their xenos mistresses.

The pink Earth Pony suppressed another sigh. She had been the nearest assassin, and this mission was time critical. Who knew when both groups would be together in an easily accessible location next? At least she could take compensation in the fact that she had free reign to plan this how she wanted.

Pinkamena grinned at the thought of the coming carnage.

She heard voices ahead, and slowed her crawl, making as little noise as possible. There was a grate in front of her, and looking out of it she saw her targets sat around a table.

There were ten ponies lined up on one side, only half of which appeared to be combat capable, whilst on the other side was an equal number of Gryphons, all of them wearing brightly coloured wraithbone armour and weapons. One of them was stood farther apart from the others, wearing a red and black checkered suit with a grimacing mask upon its face.

A harlequin! Pinkamena thought. I haven't fought one of those in ages! Maybe this will be fun after all.

She quickly checked her weapons—an Executor Pistol in one armoured hoof and a Neuro solleret on the other, along with a power sword hidden in her tail and a belt of melta bombs around her waist—standard equipment for an assassin such as her.

She kicked out the grating and leapt into the room, landing perfectly balanced on her hind legs, sending its inhabitants scrambling for their weapons.

Leveling her Executor pistol at the assembled ponies, she fired its destructive explosive bolts into them, shredding most of them, leaving little more than mangled corpses on the floor.

Her tail twitched, followed by an achy shoulder, and she dived forwards, one of the Gryphon's wraithbone swords narrowly missing her. Rolling, she leapt up into a graceful arc, coming down in front of the last of the ponies, jabbing at them with her Neuro solleret. The hypodermic needles quickly pumped its deadly toxin into them, killing the ponies before they hit the floor.

With her primary targets down, she turned to face the advancing Gryphons. The element of surprise now gone, Pinkamena was forced to rely on her weapons and her training.

Just the way I like it.

Fast as lightning, she snapped her pistol forwards, this time unleashing a hail of razor sharp needles. Most of the Gryphons jumped out of the way, but the small confines of the room limited their movement, and three of them slumped to the ground, covered in the poisoned needles.

Pinkamena grinned. She had chosen the poison to specifically target Gryphons.

She leapt forwards again, rolling into the group before they could bring their own ranged weapons to bear. She jabbed again, and her solleret connected with another Gryphon, the long needles on it easily passing through its armour.

She whirled, aiming her pistol again, but she only fired a single killing needle before the harlequin leapt forwards and kicked it out of her hoof; the Gryphon she had struck slumping to the floor unnoticed.

Pinkamena glared at the deadly clown. It moved gracefully, seemingly in three places as once, it's mask screaming of unfathomable horrors.

Pinkamena ate unfathomable horrors for breakfast.

She rolled away from the group, using the motion to move her power sword from her tail to her now empty hoof, the armoured solleret upon it easily gripping the blade.

Now armed with a melee weapon in each hoof, she charged forwards, a whirlwind of steel, poison and death.

By the time she had reached the harlequin again, three more Gryphons had fallen, and Pinkamena still didn't have a scratch on her.

The last two Gryphons warily circled the pink Pony, until there was one on either side of her. Pinkamena didn't bother to divide her attention between the two, instead allowing her instincts—and her pinkie sense—to dictate the battle. The two Gryphons charged forwards instantly, seeking to trap Pinkamena between them.

Instead, she rolled to the side, coming up underneath the normal Gryphon, before bucking it into the harlequin and its outstretched Harlequin's Kiss. There was a cry of surprise and pain as the monofilament wires in the Kiss were injected into the airborne Gryphon, instantly liquefying its insides.

Pinkamena could feel the harlequin's glare through its death mask. It leapt forwards without warning, spinning elegantly through the air thanks to its flip belt.

Pinkamena wasn't nearly as acrobatic as the winged performer, but in the tight confines of the room, that was to her advantaged. She leapt up onto the table, off a wall and met the Gryphon in mid air, her power sword swinging.

The harlequin tried to spin in mid air in order to block it with its own power sword, but that left it open to a quick jab from Pinkamena's solleret, the needles easily sliding between the joints of the armour.

In seconds, the battle was over. Pinkamena landed on the floor, panting heavily. She looked around the room and the twenty mangled corpses littered across it and grinned to herself. She collected her pistol and considered using one of her melta bombs to destroy the room, but reconsidered. This was a message to the enemies of Ponykind.

To further drive the message home, she used one of the ponies communication devices to summon a squad of arbiters, before leaping back into the vents to make her escape.

As she crawled through the air ducts, she couldn't help but hum a merry tune.

After all, Pinkie had a party to plan.

Twilight Sparkle

The Lost Library of the Royal Pony Sisters, [DATA PURGED ON ORDER OF THE INQUISITION]

Inquisitor Twilight Sparkle marched through the dark corridors of the long abandoned library, a squad of stormtroopers struggling to keep pace. Twilight ignored them. The prize she sought was far more important than some guardsponies comfort.

The prize was more important than anything.

Harsh screams sounded in the distance as her horn informed her that the deamonic inhabitants had come out to play.

She turned a corner and came face to face with a horrific warp beast. Without blinking, she smacked it with a her force staff, sundering its body and banishing its essence back to the warp.

The sharp crack of hot-shot lasguns, colloquially known as ‘hellguns’, firing behind her informed her that the guards had also encountered resistance.

Twilight ignored it, moving deeper into the library.

Bookcases surrounded her, filled with ancient knowledge. Twilight ignored that as well, her prize more important than the rest of the library combined.

A tug on her horn informed her of which fork to take at a crossroads, and she turned down it without stopping.

More warp beasts leapt at her from the shadows. This time, she pointed a storm bolter at them, held aloft in a telekinetic grip, unleashing several inferno rounds into their unholy bodies.

They fell, dead, before getting within a meter of her. A scream behind her indicated that at least one stormtrooper wasn't as lucky.

Twilight looked behind her just long enough to confirm that none of the warp beasts had snuck up on her, before trotting off at a brisk pace down the corridor.

Twice more they were ambushed by warp beasts, and twice more they were defeated. Twice more did ponies die to the hellish fiends.

Twilight hurried on, deeper into the library. She could feel the prize calling to her, beckoning her forwards. She had to reach it. The fate of the Galaxy was at stake.

Soon enough, she reached a large chamber lined with rows upon rows of bookcases, creating a faux tunnel towards the center, where an altar lay, the prize resting upon it.

And between Twilight and the prize was a draconequus, a greater deamon of Discord. It wore a reptilian head, perched upon an eagles body with the wings of a bat and a butterfly, along with limbs from a frog, an elephant, a bird and some sort of ungulate.

“Inquisitor Twilight Sparkle,” it said in a voice as smooth as rancid butter. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“You know who I am?” Twilight asked, warily approaching the deamon, storm bolter ready to fire at a moments notice.

“Of course I do. We all do. Discord has taken an interest in you,” it said. “Oh, but where are my manners. I am Tumult the Betrayer. My friends call me Tim.”

“Discord is interested in me?” Twilight asked, the forbidden name rolling a little too easily of her tongue. “What for?”

“Oh, now that will be telling,” Tumult said, wagging a finger. “And anyway, we have more pressing matters to attend to, don’t we, Inquisitor?”

“The prize.”

“Indeed. To claim it, you must simply defe—” A hail of storm bolter shells interrupted the deamon, his face disappearing behind a wall of fire as the inferno rounds exploded. He backed away, waving a limb to dispel the flames. “Very well, if thats the way you want to play it.”

The draconequus crouched down onto all fours, charging at Twilight. Immediately, what remained of the stormtrooper squad leapt forwards, hellguns blazing on full auto. Tumult barely slowed down as the lasers struck him.

He reached the group faster than his mismatched body should allow, turning one of the soldiers inside out with a flick of an aberrant limb. The stallion never had chance to scream.

Twilight sent her force staff spinning towards the daemon with a burst of psychic energy, smacking him in the face, staggering the draconequus. Tumult roared in pain, half of his face scared and blackened by attack.

Twilight grinned as her staff floated back to her side. "Aim for the head!" she ordered.

Without missing a step, the remaining stormtropers—of which only three remained of the ten stallion squad—opened fire, the over charged lasers stinking the daemon repeatedly in his ready wounded face.

Tumult staggered back once again, but recived his footing quickly. With a beat of his chaotic wings, he leapt up into the air, disappearing in to the darkness above.

A minute passed with nothing happening, Twilight and the stormtropers starring upwards, weapons raised in case he returned.

All of a sudden, there was a noise behind them. And they all spun around to see Tumult diving at them from their rear. He reached them before they could respond, tapping two of the stormtropers on their heads.

Moments later, and they opened fire upon each other, before slumping to the ground, dead.

The final stormtroper lost what little self disipline he had left and charged forwards, firing wildly. A few seconds later and he slumped to the ground, blood pooling from a hole in his chest.

"Just you and me now, Inquisitor," the daemon rumbled, a grin streaching its horrific face.

"Is that supposed to impress me?" Twilight asked, warily pacing around it.

"Maybe, maybe not. My father, however, wishes to extend you an offer."

"Not interested."

"You haven't even heard it yet." Tumult somehow managed to look insulted, clutching an appendage to his chest.

Twilight responded by throwing a psychic blast at the daemon, staggering it backwards once again. As it fell back, it stepped in the remains of one of the soldiers and sliped on the slick, gore splattered floor.

This was all the distraction Twilight needed to hurl her force staff towards, impaling the draconequus through the stomach.

"I'd die before I make deals with daemons. I won't betray the God-Princess," she said, approaching it.

Tumult laughed. "That's what Luna said. And we all know how that turned out."

Twilight responded by pulling her staff out and ramming it through his eye, silencing the daemon once and for all.

She watched impassively as the body dissolved before her eyes, only leaving a small pile of brightly coloured dust as any evidence that the daemon had existed at all.

She collected her staff and trotted to the center of the room, where a shaft of light was illuminating an altar.

Upon the altar was the prize. Two stone orbs, with old equish inscriptions upon them, and an unassuming old book, its title also in old equish.

Twilight stared at the book, a smile growing as she translated the anicent runes.

The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide.

Authors notes

A few days ago (well, more like a week and a bit now), I got this crazy idea for a 40k/MLP crossover. Which is weird, since I haven't played 40k in about 5 years.

So yeah, I then went down to the crossovers group to bounce some ideas around (thanks for the help guys!) and this little Slice of 40k life popped out, more as a thought experiment than anything else. Note—if you head down to the crossovers group and track down my thread, there may be some background spoilers. Just a warning if you wish to avoid that sort of thing. If you enjoy that sort of thing, feel free to join the discussion.

I have to say, I really enjoyed writing this, although I really had to push myself to finish the last 200 words or so. I particularly enjoyed writing Fluttershy (I cried) and Pinkamena.

Heh, guess who my favourite characters are. I'll give you a clue: it's connected to the word count.

For those of you who are unaware; this is a Rhinox. They are the Orks of this setting. I envisage them being a little bigger than Big McIntosh (maybe even Princess Luna sized). And yes, AJ took out four of them in close combat.

You may begin your cries of 'Mary Sue' :trollestia:.

Because all the characters are at near constant war, some of them have gone through character development at a slightly faster pace than in the show. So Dash is already in the Wonderbolts, Fluttershy isn't quite as timid and frightened (at least, not in a medical setting. She's still scared of some things. She wouldn't be Fluttershy otherwise). Twilight is still antisocial, however, and even with the boost to their char dev, they are still the same characters. I hope.

Eversor assassins use combat drugs to enhance their combat powers. It usually turns them into an unstoppable monster. With Pinkie, however, it turns her into Pinkamena, who by this point is a fully independent split personality. I intend to have much fun with that.

Discord is the fifth god of Chaos, the god of Disharmony (or rather, the twisted god of freedom and independence, if you're into that sort of thing).

I toned down the effectiveness of magic, to counterbalance the typical fear and predudice associated with psychic powers. Also, non unicorn pyskers do exist. They're as common as unicorn pyskers (more common actually, as each race makes up a third of the Imperium's population, so only a third of them would be unicorns). So yeah, magic<psychic powers. Or to use my original analogy—why use a hammer when you have a sniper rifle? I'm sad that got cut, but it wouldn't make sense for Rarity to say that. The rhinestone/diamond comparison makes more sense anyway.

Gyrphons=Eldar. Craftworld Gryphons try to restrain their savage impulses, Dark Gryphons revel in them.

Any more information can probably be found on a 40k wiki. Here, let me google that for you.

I started this off as a little writing experiment, because I've found myself stuck in a rut recently. This is probably due to the impending deadline for my dissertation on the water quality of a nearby river (Spoilers—it's very clean). I'm glad I was able to finish it at any rate.

Do I want to continue this? Hell yes. Will I? I don't know. I'm already trying to update three stories, start a fourth, edit and restart a fifth and I've kinda promised to write a one shot for a friend as well (Sorry Kitsune!), not to mention a whole host of abandonded fic ideas (like my LunaBon romance one shot). Heck, I really struggled to finish this one. So yeah, biting off more than I can chew at the moment.