My Little Warhammer: Friendship is Heresy

[Purple]

Well that could work I guess. But how about instead they use the power of friendship to unite the various races of the galaxy into a big happy family? And yes, I have become hocked on MLP.

[NecronLord]

I like this less than admiring take on the Imperium.

Go ponies. That's all I'm saying!

[Darksider]

Heretic!

I'm still waiting for the guard to use a few Leman's to crush some ponies into glue, but it looks like EvilSoup's had an attack of real life.

[doom3607]

Or the war over in testing scared him off. Which would kinda suck, I'd like to see how this would turn out.

[NecronLord]

War on the ponies? Clearly I need to pay more attention to that hole. And by attention, I mean oppression.

[Darksider]

War on the ponies? Clearly I need to pay more attention to that hole. And by attention, I mean oppression.

Thanas oppressed the pony-lovers posts. Then we killed all the ponies and sold the horse meat to the Bragulans.


It was glorious.

[Samang]

So, if we judge Equestria by W40K standarts: it's a planet where a large chunk of the population (30%?) are psykers. Capable, among other stuff, of teleporting at will. And their co-rulers are powerful enough to control the rotation of the planet. And the planet barely see any daemon invasions from the warp, despite being a bright neon "SNACK HERE" sign that can probably be seen hundreds of light years across.

I'm not sure the humans have any idea what are they facing. They have no chance. In fact, I think of all the factions in W40K, only the Necrons could challenge Equestrians.

[Purple]

Foolish mortals. You can not defeat us. For the ponies live in the one place you can newer conquer. Your own hearts.

[Night_stalker]

What do you mean by that?

The Inquisidor has a heart. Its in a jar on his desk.

Good luck finding it though.

[Hawkwings]

All ponies are magical. Unicorns obviously, though typically their magic only deals with their special talent (Twilight Sparkle is an exception, since her special talent is magic). Pegasus ponies defy physics as they fly (like when they fly while pulling a cart, the cart doesn't droop down but also "flies") and they control the weather. And earth ponies "bless the land" which makes it healthier and more fertile (you try planting an apple orchard in the middle of the desert!). You could set up a nice terraforming operation with Pegasus and earth ponies.

[NecronLord]

War on the ponies? Clearly I need to pay more attention to that hole. And by attention, I mean oppression.

Thanas oppressed the pony-lovers posts. Then we killed all the ponies and sold the horse meat to the Bragulans.


It was glorious.

A shame I wasn't aware of that thread to counter-oppress.

[NecronLord]

All ponies are magical. Unicorns obviously, though typically their magic only deals with their special talent (Twilight Sparkle is an exception, since her special talent is magic). Pegasus ponies defy physics as they fly (like when they fly while pulling a cart, the cart doesn't droop down but also "flies") and they control the weather. And earth ponies "bless the land" which makes it healthier and more fertile (you try planting an apple orchard in the middle of the desert!). You could set up a nice terraforming operation with Pegasus and earth ponies.

Also this.

[Mr. Coffee]

Can we stop with the constant bullshit about bronies vs horse haters already? Every time I come into fuck user fiction I see this thread and wonder if Soup updated only to find out it's more cocks professing their undying love/hate for MLP. Stifle it till he writes another chapter or some shit.

[Purple]

Now I know how Mr.Wong must have felt when he dealt you that quote in your signature.

[Connor MacLeod]

Can we stop with the constant bullshit about bronies vs horse haters already? Every time I come into fuck user fiction I see this thread and wonder if Soup updated only to find out it's more cocks professing their undying love/hate for MLP. Stifle it till he writes another chapter or some shit.

Or better. They can take it to the testing thread. MORE FODDER FOR THE MEAT GRINDER! Plus I'd love to see COUNTER OPPRESSION in action.

Now I know how Mr.Wong must have felt when he dealt you that quote in your signature.

I have a theory that we all have to face that trial at some point in our lives. It's like a major turning point, or something. Towards what, I have no clue.

[evilsoup]

Chapter 3 - The Hangover

Twilight could hear a slow rhythmic thumping somewhere to the left of her head. She started to open her eyes, but the light burned them; she pulled a pillow over her head. The thumping got louder and louder; and then she realised that it wasn't a sound at all, but a throbbing sensation pulsing through her head. Trapped under the pillow, her breath warmed the air she was breathing and she started to feel bile crawling up her throat.

The purple unicorn tentatively removed the pillow: the light hitting her face made the pain in her head go from irritating straight to jackhammer-of-the-soul. She rolled onto her side, screwed her eyes as tightly shut as possible; but this only made things worse. For an awful moment Twilight was acutely aware of her body touching the sheets and mattress of her bed, which was touching the floor of the library, which extended down to the roots of the tree, which were intermingled with a system stretching out over-

She fell off her bed, hit her head on the floor, felt a sudden flare of pain.

"Uhh..."

Hey, I don't remember getting here, how did- - she heard the crinkle of a page being turned and was suddenly very still. Her throat was sore and very dry, but she somehow managed to croak out:

"Spike..? Is that ... Spike?"

No answer was forthcoming. Twilight staggered to her hooves and half-trotted-half-fell down the stairs, tripped, went flying off the edge of the turn in the stairs. In the moment before she hit the ground, Twilight just had time to think, oh, horseapples-

She felt a familiar pressure all over her body, saw a shimmering light playing over her hair - Twilight was gently lowered to the ground. She blinked once, de-blurred her vision; saw the princess Luna sitting on the ground, book open in front of her, looking at Twilight with a curious expression on her face and forelegs tucked underneath her body. A merest glimmer of purple light moved over Luna's horn, and she spoke:

"Are you feeling better..?"

Twilight's ears twitched with each word, trying to block out the ice-shards of pain stabbing into her brain. She shook her head, nearly lost balance, sat down in a way that could not be called elegant. Her throat was very dry.

"N-no, I ... your majesty, what-"

"I never liked all that."

"Never ... liked ... what, princess..?"

Luna stood up in a single, smooth motion and trotted to the door; pulled it open. In floated a large wooden bathtub, steam roiling off the top.

"Oh, your majesty, that sort of thing. There's a jug of water over there."

The bathtub settled on the floor in the middle of the library. Twilight inched her way over to the jug of water and took a sip; then a gulp. After a moment of silence, Luna spoke again.

"That was good cider your friend brought over. A nice break from the wine my sister normally has. It reminded me of ..."

Her head was slightly clearer now, but Twilight could feel an all-over ache that went straight to the bone. She looked around the room (everything in place), then at Luna; the princess cleared her throat quietly.

"The best cure for a hangover is a long, hot bath. And plenty of water to drink."

----

"Hey-a Applejack! Hey Fluttershy!"

Applejack forced her eyes half-open to see Pinkie Pie looking right into her face, smiling widely. Fluttershy shivered and whimpered lightly, lying next to her on the bed.

"Pinkie ... Pie-"

"Ooo!" - her high-pitched voice sounded like a hoof being dragged over a blackboard, and she was entirely too happy considering the amount she had drunk the night before; "So you're awake! WAKEY-WAKEumphf."

Applejack shoved her hoof into Pinkie's mouth with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

"Sugar. Just ... calm it down, ahkay?"

"Mn mnph mn mnph umph!"

"Okay. Ah'm a-gonna let you speak. Quielty, now."

Applejack pulled out her hoof slowly; Pinkie Pie massaged her jaw. She opened her mouth to speak, took in a deep breath.

"Quietly, now."

"But Applejack," stage-whispered Pinkie Pie; "You said you really needed to be up for market day, so I thought-"

Applejack shot out of the bed, stumbled a little, fell flat on her face.

"Aw, no! Aw HORSEAPPLES, how could ah forget!?"

Fluttershy whimpered pointedly and pulled a pillow over her head. Applejack staggered to stand, then noticed the quality of the light coming from the window.

"Pinkie Pie ... what's the time'a the day?"

Pinkie Pie looked up, eyes narrowed, chewing her lip for a moment. Applejack picked up her hat from the bedpost, put it on; she could hear Pinkie counting under her breath.

"It's, umm ... it's about eleven thirty-four and nineteen seconds. Oh! Twenty seconds. I mean, not now: now it's eleven thirty-four and twenty-three seconds."

"Con-SARNIT! Aw, ah'm never gonna make it home'n back to town in time ta sell any apples!"

"Could you please keep it down..?" whispered Fluttershy, but Applejack was too agitated to notice and Pinkie Pie was intently watching a fly buzz around the room. Applejack hurridly stumbled towards the stairs, to get out through the Sugarcube Corner, then stubbed her hoof on the room's doorframe.

"Youch!" - this seemed to make something click in Pinkie Pie's head, because she just then appeared right next to Applejack.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that, Applejack! I saw Big Macintosh sellin' apples at you stall earlier!"

Applejack sat down heavily, shot Pinkie Pie a (completely wasted) dirty look.

"Then why- why d'ya wake me?"

"Uh, DUH," (another pitiful moan from Fluttershy); "Because you ASKED me to, last night!"

"But, sugarcube, ah only needed to get up so ah could get to the market on time'n ya didn't wake me up early enough for that!"

"Oh! Well, uh, do you want to go back to sleep then?"

Applejack adjusted her hat, then carefully stood up. She looked out the window on the far side of the room, at the clear blue sky.

"Nah, ah'm up now, ah gotta go help Big Macintosh. Uh ... ain't we supposed to be havin' rain tonight? The sky's mighty clear-"

Pinkie spun on the spot, bounded to the window (the creak of the floorboards where she landed eliciting another pathetic whimper from Fluttershy), looked out at the sky.

"Oh, yeah, not a cloud in the sky! Oh! OH! I remember!" - she looked at Applejack again, a broad smile painted across her face; "Princess Celestia took Rainbow Dash with her when she left! Hmn, I wonder what that's all about..."

----

Rainbow Dash glided past the late-morning sun, casting a shadow over the walkways of Cloudsdale. She breathed in the crisp, cold air and laboriously looped-the-loop to change direction and head towards the town hall. It's good to be back here, she thought, briefly glancing up at the compressed-cloud columns at the front of the building as she landed.

The town hall was very spacious; large enough to hold a few hundred standing and about the same amount flying. It was almost empty as Rainbow Dash entered, but for the single orange pegasus talking to- Is that ... Gilda..?

Rainbow Dash blinked, rubbed her eyes; it was not Gilda - the griffon Spitfire had been talking to (walking away now) was slightly larger, with a lighter plumage. Rainbow Dash felt a slight disappointment, but this was replaced with excitement as the Wonderbolt turned to face her and started walking slowly over.

"Hey! Rainbow Dash, is that you?"

The blue pegasus' mouth dropped down to the ground. Spitfire stopped for a moment, raised a hoof, a look of concern mixed with amusement crossing her face.

"Are, ah - are you okay..?"

"Y-you ... you know my name!?"

"Well, sure," chuckled Spitfire; "Winner of the Best Young Flier competition? You saved my life right there, plus we met at the Grand Galloping Gala, plus Princess Celestia told me to be on the lookout for you - why wouldn't I know your name?"

"Yeah, I guess, but I- I mean, just ... you know my name!"

"Ahahaha!" Spitfire was right in front of Rainbow Dash now, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye; "Oh, kid, you crack me up!"

"Ahe-he..." Rainbow Dash laughed along nervously; "So, uh, how's stuff in the Wonderbolts going?"

"Oh, you know: performing for crowds of thousands, doing tricks, spinning around and having kicks. It's a lot of fun. So, uh, how much have you been told?"

"Told..? Oh, by the princess, yeah! Uhm ... not much, really. She just said that there was something she needed good flyers for, so I said-"

"She really didn't tell you anything?"

Rainbow Dash tapped her mouth a couple of times, trying to remember through the alcoholic fog of the night before.

"Well ... she might have told me something, but I can't remember, so maybe you should fill me in?"

"That's what I'm here for, kid. Okay, you're not gonna believe this. There's other planets out there, whole worlds like Equestria, around each star in the sky, okay? And there's life on some of these other planets, alright? All scattered throughout the night sky, all sorts of different shapes and sizes. Some of them can travel between the planets on sort of ... huge ships. You with me so far?"

Rainbow Dash blinked once, looked at the floor, then at Spitfire. This was not what she had been expecting.

"Is this some kinda joke?"

"No. Not even a little bit."

"But there's no air when you get up that high! How do they-"

"I don't know how it works, that's not the important bit. There's one group out there, called the Imperium of Man."

----

"They are ... from what my sister has told me, they are not nice people. Did you ever study history, Twilight?"

Sitting on the grass in the midday sun, Twilight took a sip of ice-cold water before answering.

"Yes, but not in much depth."

"So you know what Equestria used to be like, before ... a long time ago?"

"Uh ... it was lots of little countries, wasn't it? Always fighting each other, until princess Celestia united them all?"

Luna smiled vaguely at the mention of her sister. She had been staring into the mostly cloud-free sky while talking - she won't make eye contact for more than a second, thought Twilight.

"It was horrible. One lot would chase other ponies out of a town; or they would trap them and ... kill them. Or worse."

Twilight raised an eyebrow, nearly smirked at such a suggestion.

"What could it be worse than killing them?"

Luna's head snapped around to face her, a haunted look in her eyes; she looked straight though Twilight.

"Plenty of things. I won't - you don't want to know. Anyway," she turned back to looking at the sky; "There was one group of ponies, they decided that everypony different from them ... had to die. They thought they couldn't trust anypony else, that that was their only chance to survive."

"But that's crazy!"

"I'm glad you think so. They eventually collapsed in on themselves - they stopped trusting each other, which was inevitable, I suppose."

Luna rested her head on the ground, eyes closed, remembering something unpleasant. Birds chirped in a nearby tree, causing Twilight to flinch slightly; she took a sip of the water from the jug in front of her.

"So. What does that have to do with this Imperium?"

Luna opened her eyes, but kept her head in the same position.

"As Celestia described it, the Imperium of Man is like those ponies. They hate all living things but themselves. They teach their children to hate." - Luna shuddered - "But Celestia learned this by befriending one of them. Wel Raleigh, and his crew. Apparently they were last here seventy years ago."

"So ... are we friends with them, or..?"

"Wel Raleigh was an ... explorer, and a travelling merchant." - Luna stood up, started walking towards town; Twilight got up and followed: "He promised he would keep us a secret from the Imperium. But a few days ago, we received a warning that they are going to attack Equestria soon."

"What?" sputtered Twilight; "But- but shouldn't we be preparing!? When are they going to get here!?"

Luna glanced at Twilight; is this filly really so powerful as Celestia says?

"Preparations are being made. Celestia's gathering pegasi, and the griffons have agreed to help, to trap them as they try and land. That is why I am here to train you: in preparation. How are you with moving small things?"

Twilight sped up to catch up with Luna.

"What, with my magic? I'm okay, I guess. I mean, it takes a lot of concentration, but-"

"You can teleport, right?"

"Um, yes."

"Can you teleport things other than yourself?"

"Uh, well, I can take stuff with me when I teleport somewhere-"

Luna stopped abruptly, surveyed the scenery: they were nearing the centre of town. A few ponies were passing on the road, some giving the winged unicorn uncertain looks, but most were already at the market for the day. Her gaze settled at the foot of a tree.

"Twilight, do you see that rock, by the tree?"

"Yes?"

"Bring it over here."

"Ookay..."

Her eyes narrowed in focus, Twilight's horn glowed. An aura floated around the rock and it levitated in the air. It started moving towards them, then suddenly dropped to the floor. Twilight concentrated harder, tried to push all her energy into the thing, but it wouldn't budge. Panting and sweating, she finally gave up.

"I-I'm sorry, Luna, but it must be-"

Turning to face the princess, Twilight saw that Luna was looking straight at her with a strange expression - something between surprise and fear. Luna was breathing a little more heavily than before, and a few beads of sweat had formed on her brow.

"Did you- were you stopping me from moving it?"

"Yes. I want you to try teleporting it here."

"O-oh. Oh, okay." - Twilight nodded, turned to look at the rock. She had read about this in Advanced Magic, but had not had the time to try it. I've got to imagine the rock being here, but not how it should move here...

For a few minutes nothing happened, save for a few sparks shooting off Twilight's horn. She was acutely aware of Luna's intense gaze focused on the back of her head. Then, with a sound somewhere between an imploding paper bag and an apple crushed underhoof, the rock disappeared and flashed into existence, right in front of Twilight. Smiling widely, she turned to face Luna again. The princess nodded, smiled wanly.

"Good, but you need practice. Come on ..."

Side by side, they continued walking towards the market.

----

"Let's see ..." - Spike examined the list of ingredients, checking for what he had in the cart already; "Eggs, check; strawberries, check; a bottle of milk, check; banana, check; apples, ch- oh."

He sighed and started walking, pulling the cart awkwardly behind him, across Ponyville's town square. He had to stop every few seconds to let an oblivious pony cross his path - it was busy, even for a market day. It took him nearly five minutes to reach Applejack's stall; he was taken aback to see Big Macintosh standing there (the usual neutral expression on his face). Oh yeah, he thought; Applejack did challenge Celestia to a drinking competition, she's probably got it even worse than Rarity.

"Hey, Big Macintosh, how's it hanging."

"Eeyou know. Same old, same old. You lookin' to buy any apples?"

"Yes. I need a bag of, uh ..." he checked the list; "Golden Delicious?"

Big Macintosh chewed absently on the piece of straw dangling from the corner of his mouth, nodded at the cart behind Spike.

"You fixin' up a hangover cure for Twilight?"

"Oh, no. Rarity sent me to get this stuff for her."

The red pony raised his eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smile moving over his face.

"Well, that'll be three bits for a bag'a six apples."

Spike paid and took his apples, then turned around to see a familiar figure making her way towards him.

"Hey! Twilight!" - he noticed the taller, dark-blue form of princess Luna walking besides Twilight; "And princess Luna! How's it hangin'?"

"Spike, where did you get to? And ... what's all this?"

"Oh, and good morning to you, too! After Luna took you home, the party wound down. I walked Rarity home, and this morning I helped Pinkie Pie clean up the Sugarcube Corner. Rarity asked me to get all this stuff for her."

Twilight eyed him suspiciously.

"Where did you sleep, then?"

"Oh," chattered Spike nonchalantly; "On the floor. Rarity has pretty thick carpets, you know."

He was suddenly aware of Luna looking at him, a bemused expression on her face. Big Macintosh started chuckling softly; Spike spun around to face him.

"What?"

"Oh, nothin'. You lookin' ta buy any apples, Twilight? Or, uh, princess Luna?"

Twilight looked at Luna, who nodded. She walkled closer to Big Macintosh.

"Umm ... how much for two dozen?"

"Well, o'course that depends on what kinda apples you're lookin' to buy."

"Well, I'm going to be practising my magic on them, not eating them, so I guess whatever's cheapest-"

"Here, let me help ya'll with that-" - it was Applejack, staggering up to the stall. She leaned against the side of it, closed her eyes for a long second; "alrighty, now-"

"Little sister, just what do you think you are doing?"

Applejack tried to fix him with a serious stare, but the sun was in her eyes so she had to keep blinking.

"Ah'm here ta help, o'course-"

"Applejack, you don't look well. Go and have a rest."

"Why, of all the-"

"I think he's right, Applejack," interceded Twilight; "You really don't look very well."

Applejack snapped around to give Twilight a dirty look but instead managed to trip over her own legs and fell flat on her face.

"Hrmph. Maybe ya'll have a point..."

----

Spike relaxed at last as he got to Rarity's front door; just as his hand touched the doorknob, he heard Sweetie Belle's voice piercing the upper frequency of sound and flinched:

"Hey Spike!" - she was suddenly right behind him (how do those ponies do that?); "Do you know if Rarity's up yet?"

He turned around, then jumped backward a foot and hit his head on seeing all three of the 'Cutie Mark Crusaders' standing a few inches from his face, smiling freakishly large smiles. He rubbed his head, stood up, saw Scootaloo sniffing around his cart. Spike took a step forwards, putting himself between Rarity's ingredients and the curious little pegasus.

"No, I don't think so. You'll have to try again later."

"But she's supposed to be taking us to Whitetail wood!"

"Well, maybe you could ask Twilight to- urk-"

Apple Bloom leaned in closer; Spike didn't look well.

"Are you okay, Spike?"

"I- uck-" with a loud belch, a plume of green smoke shooting out of his mouth, curling around in a spiral until it reached a point and - poof! A standard scroll popped into existence. Spike caught it, but stopped himself from breaking the seal; he looked at the cart and thought: if I read this and it's important, then I'll have to leave Rarity alone and go find Twilight...

"Hey, girls; if you can get this letter to Twilight for me, I'm sure she'll take you to Whitetail wood!"

[LadyTevar]

YAY! Finally an Update.

And I hope the Cutie Crusaders dont get hurt by real Crusaders

[evilsoup]

I am seriously considering giving one of them a human skull cutie mark.

[Grimnosh]

I am seriously considering giving one of them a human skull cutie mark.

Almost as amusing as giving one a Glue Bottle cutie mark. Or maybe a Red Shirt cutie mark.

Seriously though, has anyone thought that the Imperium may well have bitten off more then they can chew if Equestria happens to be a Chaos world? After all its more then possible as Chaos can be anything (and often is).

While most Chaos beings are (more or less) unfriendly towards those who live in the Materium, there are a few who are at least neutral and a smaller number that actually are friendly. Said friendly ones (IMO) have been mistaken by the Ministorium as Saints and after I read about Saint Sabbat in the Gaunt's Ghosts book Sabbat Martyr her ability to switch between bodies is very similar to daemonic possession which could easily put her into the "friendly" catigory of Immaterium inhabitants.

[Purple]

Oh my god that is so cute. Who would have ever imagined that ponies get hung over! Lolz...

You are the PONY!
Ave Equestria!

[evilsoup]

To be fair, I'm not the first to use the idea. I did read the start of a fic that went:

Twilight: "...And that's how I learned to stop worrying, and love the Bomb. Always your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle."
Spike: "Twi, do you really think Princess Celestia needs to hear about you guys getting tanked on Pink Jägerbombs?"

[Purple]

It's not who came to the idea first that matters but the one that made it glorious. And that one is you.

[evilsoup]

Chapter 4 - First Blood

Nine days had passed, and things had got worse for unit 14c. Casari had returned after his beating, his nose flattened against his face and several teeth missing; the sound of breath moving through his shattered face (a sort of wet rattle) kept everyone from sleeping properly, Casari included. Khofi, increasingly paranoid in his interpretations of the unit's every glance, had added another week to their period of half-rations, and the air was far hotter and more stifling than it had any right to be in a controlled environment. The heat exhaustion, sleep deprivation and lack of food were combining to make them fall far behind the other units on their combat training, which lead to more punishment beatings.

At twenty minutes to official wake-up time, Madrin sat up. He looked around the cell and saw that the other nine were still lying down. He blew out through his nose, trying to stop the stench of urine from the piss-bucket by his bed from infiltrating his nostrils. It didn't work - it never worked. His gaze settled on Vimel Casari and he felt the familiar stab of guilt at the sight of his friend's face. He looked at the floor, then at his hand; his stomach rumbled audibly, drawing a breathy laugh from the man sleeping next to him, Ginyard Salsot. Madrin stood, carefully picked his way across the prone men to get to the coathooks on the wall, took his and Casari's jackets.

Over the next few minutes everyone in unit 14c got up and got dressed: with a tired carefulness they checked that their uniforms were in order, then checked each other - Khofi had taken to punishing them collectively, so nobody could afford a uniform violation. At twelve minutes to the official wake-up time, unit 14c were standing to attention in two rows. They stood there, still and silent, for the two minutes until custodian Khofi's walked into view: they took care then to stare directly ahead, to make sure their backs were rod-straight.

Khofi walked cockily into view, flanked by two assistant custodians. He snapped smartly around to face them, malicious grin plastered over his face. Madrin noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that one of the assistant custodians was holding a large bag.

"Right then, you scum. Today is a very important day. We are almost at our destination, you see. Compliance position two, all of you."

They all placed their hands above their heads, fingers threaded. The assistant custodian to Khofi's left unlocked the door and slid it open. Khofi reached into the bag and pulled out a thick metal collar; it was hanging open at a hinge.

"So far, we have been keeping you in line with fear of pain," - his gaze lingered for a moment on Casari - "But in the heat of battle, that is sometimes not enough. These collars will provide a greater fear: they are packed with enough explosives to take your head clean off. And I can trigger any one of them with this." - he waved a little shiny remote control - "And before any of you vermin get any funny ideas: if I die, then three random collars will explode."

Khofi put the remote into his pocket, looked over unit 14c. They were still stnading to attention, but he could see the nervous fear radiating off of them.

"Prisoner 14c01. Larek Dag. Get over here."

----

Dutal was on his knees, scrubbing the floor of the same section of gun-deck corridor that he had cleaned daily from the last three years - not that he knew exactly how long it had been since he had been pressed into service. It was a lonely, mind-destroying task: the only real human contact he had was with his supervisor, and the seven other men who shared his cabin. He hadn't had a proper conversation in all the time he had been on board.

The sound of boots on the metal floor, getting closer: Dutal started working faster; this time, if he sees how hard I'm working, maybe he'll leave me alone. The footsteps stopped at the end of the corridor behind Dutal. For a long moment there was no sound save that of the bristles of the scrubbing-brush rubbing against the floor.

"What are you doing?"

Dutal continued scrubbing, closed his eyes tightly. The footsteps started again, then stopped: Dutal could feel Travis looming over him. He could feel an ache over his back - a memory of old beatings. A part of him wanted to run away, but he knew that would only make things much worse. Another part - a tiny, almost-crushed inch of his being - screamed out to turn around and fight. But it was a very small part.

"You're going too fast, you ... you idiotic shit-head!"

The kick hit Dutal in the stomach, sent him sprawling on the floor. Dutal looked up at Travis, resigned to recieving another beating: he made no movement. Travis spat a green gob of phlegm at him: it clung to his ragged work-clothes.

"Fucking slave. No fucking pride. Stand up, you dog-fucking piece of shit!"

Dutal stood slowly, watching Travis for an indication of another blow, bracing himself against the wall. When Dutal was fully standing, Travis took a step towards him, smiling as the other man flinched at his approach.

"See, now: you've had plenty of time to get used to the job. Keeping the corridor clean, I think that should even be within your sub-human capacity. So that only leaves one explanation." - He delivered a quick jab to the gut, making Dutal double over - "I think you're fucking with me. Stand- STAND THE FUCK UP!"

In spite of the acute pain in his gut, Dutal stood. He felt nauseous; he sputtered:

"N-no, ple-ease-"

"No? Did you just- did I hear right? Are you trying to tell me what to do? Bastard!" - he slapped Dutal's face with the back of his hand - "Whoreson!" - and again. He let out a scream of frustration and kneed Dutal in the groin; Dutal threw up over him.

"You- you dare- you fucking dare to vomit on me, you fucking parasite!?" - he pulled his knife out from his belt, brought it up to Dutal's face:

"I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget." - he cut across Dutal's cheek, leaving a nasty gash; a flash of white light filled the corridor, though Dutal couldn't see it's source through Travis - "Hm. I wonder if you'll do your job any better with one eye-"

"Stop." - It was a woman's voice, a voice used to command. Travis spun around to face-

It was an impressive sight; the snowy white fur and feathers, the shifting borealan mane blowing in non-existent wind. Celestia walked towards him, hooves making a sharp click as they collided with the metal floor.

"What are you doing to this poor man?" - she was less than a foot from Travis now: panicked, he lunged with his knife; but his arm stopped mid-arc, a shimmering white light surrounding it. He looked at his hand and the winged pegasus in horror as his fingers were pried off of the knife - it didn't hurt, but it was an irresistible force. The knife floated up high, and then flew off behind the alien creature. He felt the pressure on his arm release; the creature turned to Dutal.

"Oh, my, that's a nasty cut ... here, let me-"

Her horn glowed, and so did the cut on Dutal's face. First the pain dulled, then he felt a strange sensation: as though his flesh was knitting together. He reached up and touched his cheek - it was slick with blood, and the flesh felt a little tight, but there was no wound. Dutal looked at Celestia, smiled weakly.

"Uh- ah, thank you."

She nodded.

"You're welcome. I don't suppose you could give me directions to the bridge..?"

"Uh-uhm, I ... I don't know where that is, sorry, I've only ever seen these sections of corridor. A-and the broadside guns."

"I see." - she turned to face Travis - "And do you know where the bridge of this ship is?"

Travis backed away from her, fear in his eyes, urine trickling down his leg. He opened his mouth, but only a quiet whimper emanated. Celestia raised an eyebrow.

"Never mind, I'll find it by myself. And I'll be watching you, so don't do this again."

Her horn glowed, a sphere of bright white light appeared around Celestia, and she disappeared.

----

Breakfast at the custodians' mess was of higher quality to the rank-and-file: today they were being served reclaimed sausages and fried red potato, as opposed to the prisoners' thin algae soup and lentil-bread. Most of the custodians were finishing their meals and getting up to leave, but colonel-custodian Mangum had not had time to eat: he was receiving a very disturbing report.

"All of it?" he was fanning himself with a sheaf of papers, looking at the senior vat-minder disbelievingly. The vat-minder - a lanky, bespectacled man of perhaps forty, with a nervous disposition quite unsuited to space travel - shuffled his feet, forced himself to meet the colonel's gaze.

"S-sir, it's an ongoing situation, with the emperor's blessing we might s-salvage one of the vats, but..." he trailed off, feeling foolish at the colonel's unblinking stare. Mangum leaned forwards in his chair.

"What exactly does this mean?"

"Er, a-at current rates of spoilage, the regiment will have enough food to last for ... maybe a week. Plus their emergency rations, of course-"

"Shut up."

Mangum considered the implications: if the algae vats were spoiled, then the Divine Might of Right would not be able to supply his soldiers with food; not without breaking into the ship's own supplies, which he doubted the fat admiral would countenance. The colonel had no qualms with his prisoners starving, but he had an emperor-sworn duty to make sure they were up to the fight. Maybe we can procure food on the alien world? - he didn't fancy trying whatever monstrous half-formed abominations doubtlessly passed for food amongst these 'Equestrians', but having his soldiers try it-

Mangum's train of thought was interrupted by a commotion outside his door: he could hear the unmistakable sounds of a panicked mass, and his blood ran cold. Are the prisoners rebelling? Surely not-

"Colonel!" - the scared cry from outside snapped him out of his building panic. He picked up his laspistol and walked to the door (ignoring the trembling vat-minder), swung it open and stepped into the custodian's mess.

The entire room was bathed in light; at the centre of the commotion, surrounded by a wide circle of custodians (some staring slack-jawed, some aiming at it, some looking to their weapons in confusion) stood the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. It's wings were flared open, horn glowing, a single front hoof raised curiously. She looked at him and spoke clearly in a woman's voice, with a tone of strained patience.

"You. Are you in charge of these?"

Mangum almost took a step backwards, but the weight of his laspistol gave him strength.

"Yes." - he swung the gun up to shoot-

-and the pistol was pulled out of his hand, thrown across the mess by an invisible force. Celestia started walking towards him, slowly, voice trembling with rage.

"You are in charge of this? You keep these people in cages, brutalise them, injure them!? Is this the camaraderie of the Imperial Guard that I heard so much about?"

She was looming over him now, looking down into his eyes. He could feel his knees going weak. He started patting his belt for his painstick. She continued:

"I will remember your face. I will find you, personally, if you step foot on-"

He swung the painstick up, electricity crackling over its surface, aiming for the creature's neck; it made contact and she screamed, took a step backwards. Mangum could see that he had cut the creature, there was a small amount of red blood seeping from the wound. He stepped forwards to press his advantage: there was a retina-scarringly bright white flash, and the creature disappeared.

----

"Lord Darkium on the bridge!"

The guard's shout made admiral Kil-ban-Ocean jump, releasing a small amount of gas and causing his thurifer to move. The admiral crane his neck to confirm, yes, that damned Inquisitor really is here again, then opened his mouth.

"Ah, Lord-"

"Send the lift down now, admiral."

Kil-ban-Ocean hesitated for a moment, then turned and nodded to one of the tech-priests.

"It's sending it down now, Lord Inquisitor; to what do I owe the honour of this visit?"

There was no reply, only the high-pitched hum of the lift's struggling old motor. Perhaps he's come to complain about the cold again? ...no, he's probably been monitoring on-board communications, he knows about this little problem! The admiral forced his face into the practiced idiot grin that had led many to underestimate him, and the lift shuddered to a halt. Darkium stepped forward, anger painted over his face, loomed over the admiral. Kil-ban-Ocean widened his grin, met the Inquisitor's gaze.

"Why was I not informed immediately of the situation?"

"I assume you are referring to these reports of an alien on my sh-"

"You know damned well what I am talking about, admiral. Why was I not informed the instant you heard about this intrusion?"

"Lord Inquisitor, I was about to contact you. I did not wish to warn you until I was sure that these reports were accurate-"

The Inquisitor took another step forwards, hand resting on the butt of his pistol.

"It is not for you to make those judgements, admiral. This ship is seconded to me, and you command it by my sufferance. Do you understand?"

The admiral narrowed his eyes, dropped the smile. He felt his lip twisting into a snarl of contempt, but had enough self-control to stop that.

"Yes. I understand."

"When was the first report of the alien's presence?"

Kil-ban-Ocean glanced at the gold-plated Holy Timekeeper to his side, then back to the Inquisitor.

"About forty minutes ago."

"Within an hour of returning to realspace."

"Yes."

Darkium gave him a cold look.

"That was not a question. How far are we from the planet?"

"At our current speed, we should be in position to deploy the soldiers in just under seventeen hours."

"Can we-"

White light and a sound of held breath being released both came from behind Darkium; then there was the sound of regularly beating wings.

A long while ago - when he was barely a fully-fledged Inquisitor - Grimmus Darkium had killed a daemon. It had been on the garden-world of Gaiala, in the aftermath of a foiled Eldar plan: of course, it had turned out that they were the only thing holding back the warp-spawned monstrosity. The daemon - a vast, wriggling mass of slime and toothed tendrils - had seemed fundamentally unreal; sickeningly out-of-focus.

The alien creature hovering in front of him, beating it's wings to keep level with the admiral's podium, gave quite the opposite effect. It looked somehow more real than the command chamber. The white of it's hair and feathers, the clear pink of it's large eyes, the shifting colours of it's mane and tail; all contrasted strikingly with the foreboding darkness and garishly-impressive gold of the surroundings: but something else drew his gaze. It was as if the alien was bleeding into the foreground.

It had an impressive, regal presence. Grimmus took a second to glance around: the admiral and his thurifer were gazing, slack-jawed, in awe of the alien. Kil-ban-Ocena's bodyguard was slowly lowering his arms, trying to take in what was going on; one of the tech-priests was looking, confused, while another was too engrossed in whatever systems he was monitoring to pay any attention. The alien spoke with the voice of a woman, and Grimmus' attention snapped to it.

"So," she said in a calm tone that (Grimmus suspected, from the heavy bruise on the neck) hid whatever emotions she was feeling; "which one of you is the leader?"

The question snapped Grimmus out of the daze the alien's appearance had caused; in two jerking, lightning-fast movements he pulled out his plasma pistol and took aim.

"SHOOT IT!" he shouted, a fraction of a second before his finger recognised a disturbing smoothness where his pistol's trigger should have been. There was a horrible weight in the pit of his stomach that only grew heavier as he looked at his gun, confirming that the trigger was missing. A quick glance over the side of the podium told him that the command chamber's guards were experiencing the same problem.

"That would be you, then. What is your name?"

The alien was slowly moving closer. Grimmus dropped his pistol, moved his arms to be ready to grab his sword and strike; I'll play along, to buy time...

"I am Lord Darkium, of the Holy Inqui-"

"You're an Inquisitor? You were the one to find out about us?"

It knows of the Inquisition? That traitor Raleigh must have told them ... she's nearly close enough now...

"That I was."

"Wel Raleigh didn't give you this information freely. Is he dead?"

"YES!" - Grimmus pulled out his sword and lunged at the creature; but a sudden force acted over his whole body. He was stuck mid-arc, a pale light playing over him. Celestia looked at his sword with an expression of disdain: with a creak the blade began to bend - all the way around, until the end was pointing at Grimmus's eye, mere inches from his face. She landed on the lift platform, but kept her wings erect. She looked to one of the tech-priests and clicked in the static-esque secret language of the Mechanicum. The tech-priest was stunned into silence for a few seconds, then replied; the alien let out another short burst, and the tech-priest turned to his console.

"What are you- how do you know the language of the tech-priests?" - it was Kil-ban-Ocean; "What did you say!?"

The winged unicorn ignored him and looked at Grimmus. Suddenly he felt the pressure holding him in place leave; he stumbled uncouthly and dropped his sword off the side of the podium.

"How did he die?"

Grimmus met her gaze, his upper lip curved up with contempt.

"Slowly."

"And his daughter?"

"Hah! It's only a matter of time before my agents find her-"

"In the Emperor's name," - it was Kil-ban-Ocean; "What is going on!? Who- what are you?"

"She's a- a daemon!"

This elicited a snort of laughter from Celestia.

"Oho! Daemon! You are a very limited little person, aren't you? I'm no daemon. There is a word to describe me, but daemon is certainly not it."

Kil-ban-Ocean was on his feet now.

"Then what are you?"

She finally deigned to look at him now, the slightest hint of a smile emerging on her face.

"I raise the sun every morning, and I raise the moon every night. That is not a boast, or a metaphor: I have just told your tech-priest to look at the orbital mechanics of this system. When he is done he will tell you that they do not make sense, not without some outside force. I am that force. What do you think would be the right word?"

"Heresy!" sputtered Grimmus; "The God-Emperor of Mankind is the only true god! I know what you are, I name you-"

Celestia took a step towards the Inquisitor, looking deep into his eyes.

"You do not know what I am, little man! If you did you would turn this ship around, and run back to your home, and hide in your bed, and pray to your corpse of a god that I do not come to seek revenge for the murder of my friend!"

Grimmus fell flat on his arse; for the first time in a long time he felt fear. He opened his mouth to speak, but his lips felt numb; there was a flash of light over his lower face, and they had been transformed into two tracks of a zipper, which promptly closed. Celestia rested a hoof on his chest.

"That's enough out of you." - she turned her head to face the admiral; "I know that you are here to kill us all. Before you make the attempt, you should know something: the value we place on friendship. We are kind and generous to strangers: we offer them food, and shelter, and whatever we can afford to give. But if that stranger were to harm our friends, we would not be quick to forgive. If someone was so foolish as to kill one of my friends - well. I would make sure they were unable to do so again. Wel Raleigh was my friend. I helped to raise his daughter - and if anything had happened to her, it would be the worse for you. His murderer will be punished."

She took her hoof off of Grimmus and turned to face the admiral fully; she spoke louder now, making sure the whole command center could hear.

"The only thing stopping me from tearing your Imperium apart is the knowledge of the toll it would take on my little ponies. But know this, admiral: for every hair put out of place on the manes of every pony killed, or hurt, or inconvenienced by your invasion; I will rip a whole world out of your reach."

There was silence for half a minute; Kil-ban-Ocean was speechless, and nobody else would dare speak up. Celestia smirked; her horn glowed brightly for an instant, and then she and the Inquisitor disappeared in a flash of light.

[open_sketchbook]

Oh damn, that was totally badass.

[Darksider]

meh. Whenever someone tries to make girly or kiddy cartoons look badass, it just kinda makes me laugh.

My prediction, the Guard will steamroll whatever forces the ponies can muster against them, but inquisitor moron's decision to proceed ahead of the rest of the battle group will be their undoing. His compliment seems to consist primarily of prison-slaves kept in check with beatings and threats, and his supplies of food have just been cut off. I suspect the fact that the ponies will treat the guardsmen better than their own commanders will lead to a rather bloody mutiny which will save equestria. At least until the rest of the guard force shows up. Then comes the glue-making.