I

"No, wait, I got this. That's an emperor eagle, right? Imperium of Man?" said a curious man, looking over my costume in a convention hall flooded with people aping every kind of character imaginable.

Close. And kind of right.

"You got the second one. Where'd you hear about it?" I said, pleasantly surprised at this random man. He looked a little unsettled by the gaudy and exaggerated garb around him. Perhaps he was latching on to my costume's relative plainness.

And cheapness.

"Warhammer 40k? Internet, man, an imgur comment section, actually. You guys are like bronies, except 40k's metal as fuck."

I winced a little at his mention of my other greatly loved fictional universe. "Right. This," I gestured to the symbol painted on to the side of the grey helmet I held in my hands, "is the Imperial Aquila. Of the God-Emperor of Mankind, praise be unto his name."

He stared at me for that, but cracked a grin when I smiled. "Sorry. I get a little into it," I said sheepishly.

"Naw, I love that kind of commitment to the character," the man laughed, "I mean, looking at all these more, uh, flamboyant costumes - and then the actors just kinda standing there and chatting. Breaks it for me. You looked perfectly dour for your costume."

"Thanks!" I said, grinning somewhat falsely. In truth, I was ashamed of my pitiful costume in comparison to the elaborate labors of love all around me. The dour look matched my overcoat, smeared in dirt and left outside for a few weeks.

A woman walked up, embraced the curious man, lit up at the sight of me.

"Now, don't tell me . . ." she said, frowning good-naturedly, "you're Imperial Guard? Hammer of the Emperor?"

"Yeah! Well, that's close enough. How'd you know?"

"She plays the game. The toy game," the man started to say.

"Miniature game!" the woman and I instantly corrected, then broke out laughing again.

"Sorry. She plays the elf guys. Eldar?"

I suppressed a grimace. Overpowered bastards.

"Eldar," she affirmed, nodding her head, "I like your get-up. Not as insane as those Space Marines, and really gritty. I don't recognize that uniform though."

The Space Marines were insane, and I didn't want to be sighted with them. A 7-foot tall full makeup of power armor was an incredibly impressive cosplay - a guy in an overcoat with an overburdened belt and a German replica steel helmet, clutching at a fake rifle, was not.

"I'm not going as a Guardsman," I said, causing a flash of confusion on her face, "nah, I'm PDF. 113rd Infantry Regiment of Haufen."

"Planetary Defense Force," I added a second later, "the redshirts for the Imperial Guard redshirts."

"So they're like conscripts or something?"

I was feeling dramatic. "Sometimes. The PDF isn't one force - it's literally a million different traditions and styles and worlds. The PDF can be gang-pressed hordes, proud elite units, tribal warriors with spears on horseback. The only thing they share is ultimate allegiance - allegedly - to the Imperium of Man. They're usually more loyal to their planetary government or hive city. They make good traitors in the books."

The woman joined in. "The Imperial Guard are the soldiers sent around from planet to planet. The Space Marines are the face of Warhammer 40k, and their basically warrior super-soldier monks. The PDF hardly get featured at all."

"Exactly," I agreed, pointed at a man in bulky green armor standing at another booth, "over there's a Cadian, he's an Imperial Guardsman."

The man paused, thoughtful. "Well, tell me the story!"

"Huh?"

"The story. '113rd Haufen?' I love hearing the stories. You're doing something obscure in a niche hobby, I'm intrigued."

"Well, all right," I said. This convention was going better than I thought it ever would. "I'm a PDF trooper from the planet of Haufen, obviously. Infantry. It's a planet with a tilt on its axis that means you don't get very far from the equator without running into frigid or scorching weather. Not necessarily fatal, but exposure would kill you without preparation very quickly. There's a ring of hive cities around the equator, and all sorts of nasty things in the northern and southern wastes, some outposts."

I held out the model gun in my hands, bulky and boxy. "This is the lasgun, standard infantry weapon, based off the Lucius pattern." Oh boy, I was getting into it now. "It's cheap, rugged, and crude. The PDF maintain a lot of outposts in the hostile lands, just to make sure nothing too horrible gaining in strength out there."

He nodded. "I love it."

"The Haufen PDF is somewhat experienced in some parts, especially compared to some of the PDFs on other worlds, but they're still ineffective. If some pirates showed up, sure, they could deal with it. Bloodily. But if a Chaos invasion or Tyranid swarm or Ork horde appear . . ."

I was getting a little negative. I had to salvage a little pride. "I mean, not to say they're all bad. The PDF is like your nation's military. They can be any spectrum of skilled or large, it's just when something really bad happens, they're not enough. Not even close."

"Fascinating! I gotta go, man, but that's great," the man said, and he and the woman moved on.

That was great. There was a lot more I could have said. Culture, regiment structure, how I was from one of the pseudo-Frontier regiments - and of course the worship of the Emperor, Haufen being close enough to Holy Terra that the faith in the God-Emperor was quite strong. If the rest of the convention was to be like this . . .

All that imagination paying off. All those cosplayers going as Ultramarines could suck it and put their two-hundred hours worth of effort away. Heh.

It was hunger that had me walking foor the entrance hall of the convention, where vendors were selling overpriced food. My eye lingered on a well dressed man, speaking with an flamboyant cosplayer hefting a gigantic fake sword from some anime or another. A very nice cosplay, but not one I understood. It was luck that I was still blankly staring at them when they exchanged something small and the well dressed man walked off, snapping a previously unseen suitcase shut and dropping a trinket. He walked off.

I ran over to return it, and laughed a little when I got a good look at the small necklace on the ground. It was unmistakably an Imperial aquila, golden and well-crafted. What a coincidence.

"Hey, man-" I started as I leaned down, grasping at the aquila.

A wave of nausea overtook me with absolutely no warning. It was sudden and was like a physical force in its unexpectedness, and I doubled over in shock.

"Oh God!" I moaned, turning, wondering where the bathroom was, mind and body reeling from such a suddenly overpowering affliction. i didn't get close.

In the corner of my eye, I saw the well dressed man watch me with an almost annoyed expression.

Retching and tugging at my overcoat in a frenzy, I collapsed, and the world when black.

Author's Notes:

+THE EMPEROR PROTECTS+

II

I snapped to consciousness, nerves tingling and ears ringing at what I saw. Detached enough to wonder at the strength of the fight-or-flight reaction a normal-looking forest could provoke in me.

I scrambled backwards, grating against a tree, scraping myself up its face. This was real. The bark was abrasive on my hands, painful. This was impossible. Had I been kidnapped? How had I gotten here?

I thought of my last memories.

How was I in anything other than a hospital?

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" I stammered. "Oh God!"

My voice echoed through the forest, and I looked around again, heaving and wide-eyed. This wasn't right. The trees were beautiful, absolutely gigantic, untouched. I'd seen an old-growth forest a few years ago, and it looked just like this. It was wrong. There were barely any forests in America that hadn't been clear-cut fields at one point, and I clutched at my head with the realization. A minor thing. Oh, God, save me.

Birds were singing. I stayed put, leaning against a tree, sucking in air, sweet and damp. The forest was dark. I glanced around again.

Huh, my overcoat didn't blend in at all with the greens and browns. A stupid thought, the Haufen PDF uniforms were always grey, no matter the circumstance or consequence. Gold was the signa of power and closeness to the Emperor of Man, and a lowly infantryman like myself could only count a dull yellow aquila on his helmet and lasgun...

I shook my head roughly, rubbed my eyes. Now wasn't the time for an imaginary military in a fictional universe.

Lasgun.

The bulky weapon was right there, suspended on a thick bush. Of all the insanity, I froze at this. The gun was different. Clearly not some cheap foam board glued together and painted, it was unmistakably cheap metal bolted together and worn. Bolts. God, what was this? What had happened to my prop?

I reached over and scooped it up, running my hands over the thing gently, feeling the bolts and stamped parts. The thing, the lasgun. Lord above, never mind how this happened, did it work?

I shouldered the toy and squeezed the trigger, and flinched as a beam of red light spat out the barrel, scorching a black mark into an unlucky tree.

"Holy shit," I breathed, and more flippantly, "praise the Emperor!"

I laughed to myself, in spite of it all. None of it made any sense, there were no possible explanations for my current situation, but my lasgun worked. Damn. Praise the Emperor indeed. If my lasgun worked...

It was good not to think of the forest as I feverishly checked over the rest of my costume, fear temporarily replaced by wonder. My God, what was this? More solid materials, real ration packets . . .

I fumbled with the small book clipped to my belt, and held it in front of me reverently.

The Haufen Trooper's Uplifting Primer

I flipped through the pages of what had been a blank book with some fancy marker work for a cover - of course I'd imagined what it really looked like, but the crudely printed text in front of me was archaic and real. The manual for the average soldier, aped off the more canon Imperial Guardsman's Uplifting Primer. Basic weapon maintenance diagrams, litanies for reciting in almost any situation, absurd underestimations of the Imperium of Man's enemies. And in the case of the book in my hands, loyalty to the noble houses of Haufen, who rule in the Emperor's infallible light.

Which was heresy, but the Haufen ruling class was very good at diverting suspicion, and anyway, as long as the planet met its tithe quotas...

Of course, a simple trooper wouldn't know any of this.

I glanced around again, confused euphoria fading, to a forest alive with birds and mostly dark with the thick canopy above. It reminded me of my childhood in Washington, the smell of sap and fresh rainfall. The trees were glistening. In fact, it was like the great southern forests of Haufen.

My God. How did this happen? Where was I? The obvious answer was Earth, of course, somewhere far away from the convention hall, but I was struggling to believe that. It had to be true, but . . . I needed a distraction.

I took off my helmet, and traced my hand over the aquila on its side. I wasn't surprised when I found it was a raised signa, stamped into the metal, not a dash of paint like before. I shook my head wonderingly. My costume really was a PDF kit now. My head was spinning. I sat down to think over my situation, the man with the necklaces, and my surroundings. God save me. Emperor save me.

I blinked at the thought. I mean, I was in a foreign place, inexplicably displaced and with a working lasgun. Maybe the Emperor existed here. Maybe I was on Haufen? If I had a radio- well, vox-caster, as the lore went, I could check on the open frequencies, but a trooper didn't get one of those bulky sets.

I didn't want to think about my situation too deeply. I rose to my feet, and blindly tramped through the foilage, lasgun in hand. God preserve me. Emperor preserve me. Perhaps this was Haufen.

~

I didn't make it far before coming to a break in the trees. A ragged swathe had been carved into the forest, a dirt trail winding between the immense stumps. Branches littered the ground, still with leaves. This trail was logically impassible to vehicles, so damn, there went my Haufen theory. Unless it was a smuggling trail. Either way, it surely lead somewhere, so down the trail I went. I took a swig from my canteen, flinching at the metallic taste from the crude thing.

I walked all afternoon, the sun of this place high in the sky, till I stopped to satisfy my growing hunger. Jesus, why'd I have to imagine Haufen PDF rations as bland, utterly unappetizing nutri-sludge packages? I'd never tasted something so artificial in my life.

Well, of course, the rations were that way because of the food situation on Haufen. Unwilling to be dependent on a nearby Agri-world to feed its thirty billion citizens in the hive cities, the noble houses turned to less savory means. Everybody knew the equator was a stinking mess of fungi and spores, unnaturally bloated life from man's tampering and crop-fliers. Nutri-sludge was derived from that, made mostly non-toxic in the process, and fed to the hive cities and PDF. The base used to be alive, but it was a disgusting life.

Yes, I'd thought it all out. The noble houses were very wise above the masses.

"Praise the Emperor," I muttered. It was a comforting thing to say, and besides, I could hardly do otherwise when I had a real aquila-blessed lasgun in my hands. Every real 40k fan's wet dream. And who's to say He didn't watch over me? My logic screamed no, but the Imperial gear in my hands said otherwise.

"Praise the Emperor!" I screamed at the forest. "In all things! Glory to him! He protects his faithful!"

God help me. Emperor protect me. I finished my meal, such as it was, and continued. Night was falling, and hopefully I would come across a town, or a Haufen PDF outpost. Something. I had an uneasy feeling about the night.

~

Night fell, and my hope was inflamed by the light I could see in the distance, the faint chatter of voices I could hear on the wind. I stopped when the roaring began as I was stumbling down a long hill to the light.

My unspoken hope that I was somehow still on Earth was shattered by the roars. They were of great variety, shrill and guttural, with painfully foreign intonation. My God, no creature on Earth sounded like that. Some were fairly normal, but others sounded so wrong, and I knew fear. I clutched at my lasgun, and crouched behind a stump. The hellish noise was coming from the light, or rather around the light.

I heard the snap of branches behind me and spun, facing a bristling mass barely a dozen feet away. Oh God, it snarled-

"Help!" I screamed as I wrenched myself away, a limb from the creature clawing in my direction. Shit. God. Wait, I had a lasgun-

I found myself on my back as I squeezed the trigger, trying to point the lasgun in the right place. Red light exploded into the sky, the creature recoiling from the miss, and the next shot connected, the creature screeching. I rose and hammered on the trigger as fast as I could, mostly missing with shaking hands. The dark thing hissed and shuddered, ripped away at the foliage it writhed on.

The lasgun clicked dry. I stepped back and fumbled with the catch on the power pack for while, the creature still a few feet away, until I conceded that I didn't really know how to reload my lasgun, and now wasn't the time to learn. That thing wouldn't shut up, that disgusting, foul . . . xeno. There was no way that thing belonged on Earth. The thought was utterly enraging.

I have a bayonet. I don't care. I found myself on my knees, pounding the lasgun's stock into what passed as a face on the creature. It was weak, it scrabbled at my thick overcoat and latched a claw onto my helmet. Its stench was revolting, its fur bristling. I doubled my efforts to smash its skull in.

I hated it. I hated it. Hardly rational.

"For the Emperor," I breathed through gritted teeth, killing this abomination, its wounds steaming.

"For the Emperor!" I howled, swung, and heard a sharp crunch. God, my arms were burning. Was I wounded?

No. Thank the Emperor, that filthy . . . xeno, that obscenity to man, had not injured me.

It occurred to me that monster was clearly not the only one in these woods, though they mostly surrounded the light below. I watched on in fascination as colorful, unnatural lights blazed down below, and the cacophony of unearthly screams reacted by reaching a deafening level. Shapes, dark things, moved with purpose down below, silhouetted by the suddenly brightened light.

A battle, perhaps. I watched, finally getting the empty power pack to fall out, and I managed to pull a fresh one off my belt and slide it in with a click. I remained behind the stump, crouching, lasgun up.

Oh Emperor, there are shapes coming from the light to me. I could see waves of flame and dancing lights not unlike the shots from my lasgun, fending off the monstrosities; but their wielders were hardly better. As they came closer, away from the big light and up the hill towards me, I saw they were hunched over, tiny figures, painfully inhuman.

I didn't want to deal with more insanity. I ran into the forest and covered myself in foliage, and the figures, no, the xenos drew nearer. I watched them closely.

They were ponies. My mind registered the fact as one lit up a lantern, the rest searching around. They were clothed, and the clothing gave me further pause - golden armor on two, but garb that looked like it had come straight out of the nineteenth century. Suits. Tophats. They were speaking - oh God, I could understand!

"There's nothing here. We should go back," yelled a dour-looking pony, scarcely thirty feet away. Pony. I knew what these things were, but they were different and entirely unexpected. I made no move to show my presence.

"You saw it," another said, "the light up here. The native monsters don't do that. There might be a pony! An explorer!"

"And those native monsters are calling their friends," still another pony said, pointing into the forest, wincing at the ever-present roars. "We need to get back inside the walls, now."

I scarcely breathed as they left, still talking, voices finally lost to the monster's roars. Ponies. Xenos. Xenos. My God, I wasn't on Earth.

I wasn't on Haufen, never was. Emperor save me. The thought was natural.

It was too much. I sunk to the ground, back against a tree, blinded by a headache. I'd been putting off this thinking all day, and now it was back with vengeance. It took an hour to sleep. Too soon, too sudden. One could only keep up appearances for so long.

~

I woke and got a better view of the camp below. Wooden walls, makeshift and scarred. Crude wooden buildings inside, the place teeming with ponies. I had to go down there, had to get a better sense of the nightmare. I bristled at the idea, but it was underscored by grim inevitability. It also gave me something to fuss over, a goal, a distraction from analyzing my situation fully. I was garbed in the kit of the Haufen PDF, and there were xenos everywhere. I hadn't seen a human, nary a hint of one.

Before I went down, I read over The Haufen Trooper's Uplifting Primer. I lingered on its intro to the 'Know The Enemy' chapter.

It is the way of xenos to lie and mislead Men. There is only the Emperor and the divine right of Men to the galaxy, and the xenos are infinite in their number and arrogance, in their defiance to this holy creed. No matter when or how, they are never be trusted. The Emperor protects, but hate all the same.

Extreme words, but magically existing ones. Of course I had to be civil, but I wondered at God, and the Emperor as I walked down the hill. God willing, the Emperor would protect. I let a hand rest over the aquila on my lasgun.

Author's Notes:

+THE EMPEROR PROTECTS+

III

They took me in with scarcely a second glance. Errant explorers were common of the 'Wild Fringes', apparently - and disturbingly, they even offhandedly mentioned there were plenty of other species mucking around out here. It was a lot, even compared to yesterday.

The introductions had passed so fast, and my answers so vague and generic, I hardly remembered walking through the walls. I did remember, however, constantly thinking the Emperor protects over the past few hours. The holy phrase was still ringing in my head, oddly comforting. Oddly? Of course it was comforting, more then that, the Emperor's name was inspiring.

Oh, God, that pony's looking at me-

Thank the Emperor. It's gone. Nothing to see here, xenos.

I'd taken a seat beside the door a half-built shack, no builders in sight at midday. No tools, either. Abandoned in the midst of an otherwise dynamic community. The historian in me balked at the sight of the many and varied species around me, mostly ponies alongside a smattering of fantastical races. The Emperor-fearing servant in me bristled at the sight of so many xenos. Still, there was absolutely nothing to be gained by being anything other than quiet and observant.

For now, at least, praise unto Him on the Throne.

I took stock of the situation. I'd been taking stock for the past few hours. I wasn't getting anywhere, and my stomach pained me. I looked around at the xenos around me and opened a packet of nutri-sludge.

They were Victorian. That much was certain. I knew of the show, distantly, but this was different - suits and petticoats, roughshod adventurers and dandies. Mostly suits, though - suits and dirty, timeless working clothes for the earth ponies. Earth ponies, yeah, it made sense. I was remembering a bit.

And the technology was fascinating. I only saw snippets, and I was doubtless far from real civilization - such that passed for civilization in these xenos - but it was intricate, archaic, monolithic...

It was less than steampunk, heh, goodness knows the people at the convention obsessed with that would be disappointing. Emperor's grace, my lasgun was more advanced. The single steam engine seemingly powered a belt disappearing into the apparent town hall, a less rickety and somewhat larger structure in the center of everything. Smoke billowed out of the smokestack, but I could see the machine through an open door, valves and piping and an open boiler ponies heaved wood into. Xenos flew overhead. Cuffs and buckles and stiffly arrogant postures from the few horned xe- uh, unicorns. Right.

I should have been amazed by alien life, by technology, mannerisms, and langauge so disturbingly familiar, if aged - but all I could see was the sparkling magic, the sorcery and abomination before His will. The glory of the Imperium of Man, I knew all about that from the wiki - the past glory, the faded gilding and bloody struggle for survival. A shell of what once was unthinkable technology, near wizardry or sorcery in its appearance, so advanced it was - the damned stuff of the Warp superseded by human hands.

Of course a humble PDF trooper of Haufen didn't know about the Warp and the forsaken damnation of Chaos. What I did know of was the magnificent Capital spire on Haufen, a relic of astounding technological advancement that was suspended above the sprawling hab-blocks and manufactorums of the central hive city - or the Indomitus Imperialis Gloria, an immense crash site for a ship from just before the Horus Heresy, a wonder of technology that scrappers still explored, and were mostly killed by dread beasts or ancient defense systems. That was near my hometown, the outer Demi-Manufactorum Trete.

I mean, my character's hometown. That no one had asked about.

~

Night fell, and with the darkness came the roaring - safely outside the palisade. I tensed up nonetheless, and made sure my lasgun was ready. I hadn't cleaned it in a day, contrary to the advice of The Uplifting Primer. It would be a good activity to sleep by - to do with utmost devotion to the machine spirit of my lasgun. I didn't want it to fail on me in some distant land.

I wasn't planning on staying here. Merciful Emperor, I'm tired. Merciful Emperor, one of the xenos are walking toward me!

It was a younger one, with a bright grin and an eager countenance, well dressed by the light of the gaslights. Real, genuine gaslights. Perhaps the authorities wanted information on the newcomer - the xenos were spying on the human, coming on with a grin and dagger behind their back. There was no reason to trust these pseudo-Victorian buffoons, and plenty of reasons to have utter disdain and suspicion.

"Hey, mate!" the pony said, one of the fliers.

Or, perhaps the pegasus was a fresh-faced adventurer with some curiosity to my costume.

My uniform. "What do you want?" I said curtly.

"Well, I've never seen something quite like you," he said. Well, maybe it was just curiosity. "All the old chaps here don't pay newcomers any attention, but you look special! I never read in a book about a creature quite like you. What do those symbols mean? Imagine if you're a new species! I'd be celebrated in every institute of learning-"

He droned on, I scowled, my expression apparently hidden under the shadow of my helmet's rim. Emperor-damned little prier, of course all he thinks about is rewards.

"-in this age of learning and exploration, I'd hardly be surprised if there are still barbarian civilizations out there, undiscovered, I mean, you look like a part of a greater society, you meet five of Mintel's Seven Characteristics of Societies-"

"Barbarian?" I interrupted coldly, and the pony stammered something while I continued. "The Emperor's service is not some savage tribal hierarchy of filth and brute, stupid strength. In Him is purpose. Much more beyond that, but from purpose springs everything, xeno."

He blinked, silent, staring. I blinked too, considering my words, automatic and without thought. Surely that was a tad much.

"Well, where are you from?" the pony asked, quietly. Cowed. Respectful.

"Darrington, Washington State," I replied without thought, "the forests here are beautiful, very much alike to my home in the daytime."

"That's nice. Fascinating, even! Tell me, what's the history of this place? Where's Washington State in respect to the Eastern Fringe? How far have you come? What's that?" he pointed at my lasgun.

I gritted my teeth. I wanted him gone, and telling him the truth, inadvertently be damned, hadn't helped at all. He'd been cowed when I mentioned the Emperor's name, though...

As all xenos should be. Praise be to his name. Ave Imperator.

"Ave Imperator," I mumbled.

"What's that?"

"Praise be to his name," I continued, deliberately louder but genuinely reverent, "the Emperor deserves all glory and honor."

"...an emperor?" the pony said, "Like, Celestia? You have an emperor as a ruler? The Griffons have an emperor."

"No. Not a ruler. A man, a God-Emperor. A god who sits upon the Golden Throne in eternal suffering and vigilance over the death-struggle of mankind. He watches over those who go before in his name in righteousness, and the Emperor protects," I glanced around, "even in this place."

"I- wow, uh, that sounds... monolithic. I could hardly imagine at what exists on the other side of our world," the pony said quietly, audibly unsettled.

"As for this," I gestured to my lasgun, picked it up, "this is but a tool of an Emperor, much like me, except with slightly less maintenance. I haven't properly venerated its machine spirit today, would you care to watch?"

"Sure," the pony said neutrally, still a spark of curiosity left at this late hour. I was counting on that. I'd read The Uplifting Primer's section on the lasgun many times today, aware of the necessity of keeping it clean. And satiated.

"The sacred unguent," I said, pulling a bottle out of my pack I'd found earlier," to anoint the barrel to placate the spirit of the weapon."

As I slowly dribbled the liquid onto the barrel, rubbing it around evenly with a few mumbled prayers, the pony looked on in visible unease. "It's just a machine," he muttered. I pretended not to notice. "That's just lubricating oil."

"Now, for the important part," I said, taking out The Haufen Trooper's Uplifting Primer and flipping to the appropriate page. "The Litany of Preservation."

"Machine Spirit of this holy weapon, in reverence to the Emperor I supplicate you the sacred unguent. May your workings be smooth and without fault in my deference to you. Let your function sing its praise to the Golden Throne and He who sits upon it. Glory be. I intoned, eyes closed.

I opened my eyes to find the pony very visibly befuddled, and not a little disturbed. 'It's a machine, not a god." We traded stares.

"In all things, before time was and till the end of all suffering and the Imperium's final triumph, the Emperor." I said, holding my gaze. The xeno looked away.

"Yes. Quite. Uh," he edged away, "merely a helpful warning, but worshiping a machine is hardly necessary to maintain its function - everypony knows that. They're advancement, hardly icons of adoration. That's for less hopeful times, stranger."

"Exalt the Emperor," I replied. He turned with a doubtful sigh. "Wait," I called.

"Huh?" he regarded me like a primeval savage.

"I have a question for you. How does one leave this place, and where might be a more civilized area?" I asked, as normally as possible.

"Uh," he mumbled, taken aback, probably expecting another 'archaic' litany of praise, "the mail airship makes its rounds, stops here. Scheduled for tomorrow, actually."

"Where does it lead? Perhaps a place of learning and culture?" I asked again, tilting my head, removing my helmet. I let him look into my eyes without a shadow over them, and see the intelligence. I hoped the xeno would wonder at my faith and intelligence side by side.

"Uh, I'd hardly call Marstown a center of civilization, but it's a port across from Equestria. It has a lot of offices and government. Some taverns, too."

"Sounds like my kind of place. Thanks." I said, and smiled. "May the Emperor protect."

"Yes. Thanks." he walked off, a little fast. I smiled. I never actually wished the Emperor's blessing upon the xeno.

That had gone better than expected. The Emperor's name was many-faced, but I felt so calm right now. Calm was perhaps a misleading word, not entirely accurate. I wasn't even thinking of the whole situation anymore, which was a vast relief. I was fairly content.

Thank the Emperor. I fell asleep quickly and got some good rest.

Author's Notes:

+THE EMPEROR PROTECTS+

IV

The airship came the next day. I woke to the rattle of propellers and the shouts of stevedores trying to muscle the airship down with guiding poles, the pegasi shoving at the sides from the air. It was pretty amusing, seeing the xenos trying to ape one the Imperium's strengths, large amounts of brute labor to accomplish great tasks. The airship itself was nothing to be excited over, parched canvas and a cheaply ornate gondola. The engines were quaint, rattling and venting steam, the most steampunk thing I'd seen in this Victorian age.

"We need help!" one of the stevedores cried, and idle ponies grabbed lines and strained. The airship was my way out, so I jumped up and grabbed a rope. Eventually, the airship came down to a rough landing, a gangplank went down, and a stream of xenos crowded it.

I joined them, lasgun slung over my shoulder, and the Emperor watching over me.

"Bits," a uniformed xeno in faded gold braid demanded, holding out a hoof, barring my entry.

"What?"

"Currency, lad," the xeno said flatly. I didn't have bits, but if the xenos passing by dropping shiny coins into his hoof was any indication, I might have something that worked.

I reached into a pouch on my belt and retrieved a single Throne, a golden coin with the visage of the Emperor stamped into it. Normally, Haufen workers got payed in credit chits, paper things worthless off-world, but PDF troopers on the frontier got payed in a precious few Thrones. I was lucky to be one of them, as I doubted this xeno would accept a slip of paper, even with an often off-center "Imperialis Gloria" printed onto it.

I dropped the Throne in the xeno's hoof, and pushed past him. I boarded the airship, pressing through the throng of xenos, and into its packed gondola. Faith in the Emperor would be my soul companion here- the press of xenos was noxious and the chatter deafening in the enclosed space. I hugged my lasgun close, and thumbed a frag grenade clipped to my belt - if it came to that, I could probably wipe out every xeno in the gondola with the shrapnel. Of course I'd die too, were I still alive at that point, but it was death enshrined to the Emperor.

I didn't want it to come to that, though. Ashamed as I was to admit it, a ragged sense of curiosity persevered in me. I appeared to be able to travel freely among them, and surely there were more arcane, grotesque wonders to be found in this world. It wasn't like I had much else to do. I consoled myself with thoughts of service - in the Emperor's name I would go.

~

Hours later, the sun high in the sky, and two stops in forlorn outposts. I remained against the wall of the gondola, snatching gasps of fresh air from the window above me. God, I missed my family. I missed the smell of home. This place was a terrible imitation of the reality of Washington's forests, the smell was slightly but maddeningly divorced here - Jesus, I haven't even thought of my family - my sister in Seattle, aging parents in Darrington.

I quivered slightly, glancing around at the varied and impossible creatures around me, the pegasi, unicorns, earth ponies, minotaurs, yaks, deer - each sentient and each utterly alien. Christ, this was madness. Cold fear gripped me, unwelcome and mostly foreign in this far away land so far.

I shook my head, slammed it against the wall at my back. Shame upon me for such doubt. I had a helmet and lasgun, Primer and pouches of real rations and real equipment. The Emperor protects, just look it! Damn it all, I had inexplicable things and had only the Emperor to thank - clothing, weaponry, a chance. All by the benevolence of Him Upon the Golden Throne. Who was I, but an infinitely, unthinkably replaceable man, a mortal, compared to such grace? Yes.

The fear of all that was around me vanished, and a quiet hatred replaced it. To look upon this mad array was just that, to see the filth of xenos to mankind's splendor. I knew of it, Haufen had testaments uncounted to the glory of the Imperium and the Emperor. The spiraling arches, soaring heights, clamor and roar of machinery. I'd nearly gone deaf one day, marching between to manufactorums, deaf at the industry of Man. A glorious experience. Yes.

"The Emperor protects," I said, not mumbling in the enclosed space but saying the phrase loudly, shining with pride. I drew a dozen stares, but I couldn't care, not in honesty to the Emperor.

These kind of thoughts had been overdue, long overdue. There was but one logical conclusion, and that was the Emperor above. With shaking hands, I opened The Haufen Trooper's Uplifting Primer and flipped to the section filled with the litanies of praise. Truly, praise the Emperor.

"What is humanity's flame in the darkness of the galaxy?" I said, reading, exalting His name. "And what is a lowly mans spark, infinitely small and utterly short in this night? We are nothing if we do not accept our part and our life in the Emperor's pyre, his sacrifice and his legacy. I share in it, I glorify it, I..."

I drew many, many stares. Mostly around me, but some sharp-eared xenos at the corners gave me uncertain looks. An airship guard, a barbaric spear at his side, was particularly suspicious. I praised His name genuinely and with the whole of my heart, but the virtues of intolerance and vigilance were always applicable. The guard looked at me as if I would start violence.

I laughed inwardly at the thought. This airship ride would pass quickly, the Primer's section of praise was long. A litany ended, and I looked around again. This Marstown would be an interesting place to end up in, if the variety of xenos was anything to tell. It didn't daunt me in the slightest, though, not with this final revelation to the truth of the Emperor. The golden aquila on my lasgun was proof enough, but my cup of faith was overflowing regardless.

"Ave Imperator," I said, with feeling.

Author's Notes:

+THE EMPEROR PROTECTS+

V

The trees gave way to a featureless plain. We arrived in Marstown late in the afternoon.

Marstown reminded me of vaguely remembered pictures in a history book, something not of Haufen. The port city, a generous definition even given the context, was situated in a crescent of hills around a bay. Steamships crowded the water, smoke coiling up and mingling with the hazy cloud hanging over the whole area, fed by the xenos' shoddy imitation of manufactorums.

The city itself was wood structures, stark and windowless, in haphazard rows. Public transportation was a quagmire of mud and stone, throngs of xenos moving about. The hills around were grimly bare of any vegetation save thin grasses, the stumps of trees rotting away.

I knew what it so achingly reminded me of. The Wild West, pictures in a history book about mining - such harsh looking towns, divorced from nature and basic.

It was quite pathetic to see. The scale of a Haufen hive city, or even the smallest demi-manufactorum, would put this place to shame. I had to suppress a wave of anger at the xenos' destruction of this land with so little to show of it. And what were the government buildings that one xeno had spoke of? There were no towering edifices to glory, proud statues, or ranks of banners. There was a modest flagpole and flag, colorful in contrast to the dullness of the buildings arrayed around it, the government section, no doubt. I wanted to scope that place out.

The airship landed with somewhat less trouble than the last I'd seen of it, and I exited with little fuss, joining the crowds. Here suited xenos and adventurers mingled with clerks and less flagrant workers, heading to saloons and inns, offices and tenements. I boiled with hatred, remembering the words of the Primer, the Litany of Intolerance.

The only thing that could keep me going in such a foreign land was this faith, this contempt. I pressed through the crowds, fidgeting with my lasgun, reviling my surroundings.

I was thirsty, and this faith was tiring. I wanted a rest, and I headed for an inn/saloon combo, one of dozens. It was near the goverment section, anyway, as far as my navigation skills served me in this bustle.

~

Inside was a dark, expansive room, lit by candles and gaslight. I sat down at the bar and checked over wealth - half a handful of Thrones, and plenty of worthless credit chits. I was vaguely worried that I'd run out of money too quickly, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I wouldn't be sitting so peacefully among these xenos for much longer. I resolved to praise the Emperor more fully.

I made my way over to the barkeeper, quietly ordered something cheap-looking. I plopped a single golden Throne down on the bar, smirking slightly at the dandies who were practically laying sacks of 'bits' for fine wine. Inflation based on remoteness didn't affect poor-quality beer anywhere, it seemed.

I sat down at one of the big communal tables, this saloon apparently too new to have many private tables. I nursed the jug of alcohol, observing the occasional bar fight or scuffle as a stream of xenos came and went. I barely resisted the urge to join in a crack some skulls, fully aware I'd probably end up overcome by my simmering hatred, and stab someone with my bayonet.

It was getting dark out when a new stream of xenos came in, flooding the communal tables. They were modestly dressed, probably clerks or scribes, or something - they came from the direction of the government buildings.

One sat next to me, a female xeno. There was little talk from these newcomers, but I caught her glancing at me occasionally. It seemed to be simple curiosity, but I let a hand stray down to the bayonet clipped to my belt, just in case she got uppity.

She didn't say anything to me, and a servant of the Emperor's servant doesn't let himself get scoped out like this.

"Got anything to say?" I asked, with weariness that surprised me.

She blinked. "No, uh, not really," she said haltingly, turning to her weak drink, then back to me. "Well, yes. Curiosity. Well met, stranger - I'm a clerk from the taxation bureau of the Canterlot Monarchy."

"And? Plenty of strangers about. Why are you here?" I asked, perhaps being a tad too rough with the last word. I was too tired, in brief retrospect, to want her away just yet.

"Oh, well, the barracks for us officials haven't been built yet. We stay in these inns," she gestured upstairs.

"I mean, here. In these Fringes," I corrected, gesturing out the window.

The clerk rubbed her forehead. "It's a job, it's just a job. My special talent isn't shuffling papers all day."

I huffed. "Well, work with praise, clerk."

"Yeah," she said, sighing, "never imagined I'd waste my youth so far from home." She perked up. "What are you here for? Never seen anything quite like you."

"I'm here to serve the Emperor," I replied automatically, then cringed at how stupid that sounded. The Emperor's name deserved better that trite phrases. "I mean, I'm here, uh, exploring. I keep my Emperor's name close at heart, and He guides me."

I glanced around warily. "Even surrounded by xenos and their filth. This land is getting destroyed to its core, and you have a pathetic bunch of wooden buildings and smokestacks to show for it."

She didn't get flustered. "Yes, well, if you ever make it across the ocean, then you'll see splendor. The companies and the government make beautiful, rich things with the wealth of the Eastern fringes. The real winners aren't those adventurers, they're the ponies back home. Everypony who sets hoof in this forsaken place is losing."

I laughed, "You get it. At least us wretches back in Haufen can look up and see the towering heights of the hive cities and the aquilas and statues."

The clerk displayed that maddening interest in my home as they all these xenos did. "That's sounds fascinating! Care to tell me about it?"

But she asked of the glory of the Imperium, not my formless memories of... Washington? Darrentin?

"Well, it's glorious!" I exclaimed, pride rising in my chest. "It might be hellish for a xeno like you, but we live in unimaginable heights and industry. All sing their praise to the Emperor and exalt He who sits upon the Golden Throne. Glory be!"

She eyed me oddly. "Sure sounds like this... can't exist, not on the other side of the globe or something."

I glowered. "Of course, Haufen is as real as this lasgun-" I hefted it, "or the aquila on my helmet. They didn't just come into being without the Emperor's will."

The clerk frowned, but leaned forward in interest. "Either this is incredible, or this is a, uh, somewhat embellished story."

My pent-up rage at this world and the injustice of my stranding here nearly boiled over. The clerk shrank back at my glare.

"Wait, no, please- please don't look at me like this. This is a civilized place," she stammered, then swallowed. "oh Celestia, I'm such a coward. What I wanted to say was-"

She stopped when I sunk into my chair. What servant of the Emperor would threaten a scene in a place that held no harm, to a xeno who spoke the truth, such as they could manage it? I- oh, God, I'd once been a mild-mannered man...

"Are you alright?" she asked, tilting her head in sympathy. I bristled at the concern, but deep down, I appreciated care from another thinking being, xeno or not. Lying to myself could not go on.

But the Emperor was not a lie.

"Go on," I sighed, sitting back up.

"Well, I love stories. I want to write them- stupid thought, I know," she placed a hoof on her backside, an image of what looked suspiciously like animal fodder there. "I just think your story sounds great, as much of a story as it might be. I'm saving my bits for a bargain typewriter from the general store. You sound so sure of everything, like you've thought it out."

Oh God, had I thought it out. Oh Jesus, I- I-

What had I become? What was I, contemplating killing things who had done me no wrong? Thoughts of the Emperor pushed back, gave light to the truth that these xenos wronged me by their defiance to mankind-

I quieted those thoughts. I thought of home, of the long hours spent writing and thinking of Haufen, drawing a map out of boredom, impressing and scaring friends - friends!

I shuddered. What about Emma, who looked up to me as a big brother even in her accounting job in Seattle? Mom, dad, living out the end of their lives in our little two-story house in Darrington? Pine sap in the forest, fresh air by the sea, staring in wonder at the enormity of the Pacific that stretched out before and the long nights gazing into the sky.

I shook and a cold sweat came over, fear and disgust and the emotion of two days of utter insanity. I wanted to cry, wanted to punch the table or do something, but I just sat there, shaking, thinking over and over. Not in praise of the Emperor.

I love to make stories too.

"Are you alright?" the pony asked, reaching out with a hoof. I clenched my teeth and nodded, then sunk into my chair, shaking my head.

"I love to make stories too," I said finally, quietly, "they dominate my life, sometimes. I guess I'm not very mentally healthy at the end of it all. Just look at me."

The clerk cocked her head, and lay a hoof on my shoulder, drawing closer. "I love stories. They distract me from the drudgery of my life. I wish sometimes I was out there in the real Wilds, making my own stories-" she paused, sighed, "but I'm a coward. I couldn't do it. So I shuffle papers and dream of other places. And sometimes, I dream that my writings might get me somewhere better in real life."

"Yeah, heh, yeah," I sighed, a cold feeling in my chest, "thanks."

The clerk looked around, and I followed; it was dark out, ponies were heading upstairs.

"Oh my God, I'm a mess. I'm not even from here," I said, mostly to myself. The clerk listened intently, though, something that lightened my heart. My heart had been very dark indeed, I was just realizing. All it took was a talk.

"Well..." she trailed off, "you have anywhere to stay?"

"No,"

"You could stay in my room, the carpet's softer than the mud outside. Want to talk about this?" she offered.

I eyed her suspiciously, but not hatefully. "Why would you offer that?"

"This is the most interesting thing to happen to me in my entire time in the 'wild' Fringes. I- I want to see it through," the clerk said. "I'm Chaff, by the way. Sixth of my siblings." She got up from her seat.

"Of course!" I said, with feeling, heady with having a real conversation. The barricades of hatred came down, for now. "You got any stories of your own you're working on?"

"Oh, yes! I'll tell you all about them!"

I followed her upstairs, and my heart was light. I fidgeted with the aquila on my neck for the first time, suddenly aware of its role in sending me here. Thank God for coming into this saloon.

The future was utterly unknown, but I looked at it with more than a grim fatalism now.

Still, though, my costume had become real by some force. Perhaps the Emperor did protect...

I treated that thought was caution, but I let it stay. I had to be careful with it. I was man from Darrington, Washington, and I'd be damned if I forgot that.

We talked through the night.

Author's Notes:

The End, for now.