Horus was trying very hard not to simply scream and stomp about and demand that the xenos filth be purged from her presence immediately. Instead, she took a steadying breath, and decided to solicit the opinions of others. She would not rule the Imperium alone, she would have her sisters. No woman was a nation.
Except perhaps her mother, but the Empress hardly counted.
"Sisters, a word," Horus said, forcing her emotions back down and her voice to be calm. She stepped aside with the five Princesses present as the damanable greenskins set about causing more problems.
"First, welcome, Vulkan," Horus said, forcing a smile on her face. She even gave the hulking brute a hug. No. No, not hulking brute. Sister. Her experiences in life were different from Horus', and thus valuable.
"It is good to be meeting you all! I am most pleased to make so many friends at once!" Vulkan said, slapping Horus on the shoulder.
"Yes, quite." Horus looked to the orks and set her jaw for a moment.
"Ye micht be mah sister, bit na kin o' mines is mukkers wi' th' damn green meanies! They're nae fowk, they're orks," Russ snarled, pointing.
"That rather sums up my own feelings on the matter," Horus growled, her own hackles rising. "We are the leaders of humanity. Not alien scum."
"Dey do not be human, but dey are people," Vulkan said, folding muscular arms across her chest and glaring down at Russ and Horus. "I will no tolerate fighting between my friends. Dey are not bad orks."
"Th' ainlie guid ork is a deid ork!" Russ argued, taking the words right out of Horus' mouth. "Th' bastards raided th' clains 'n' murdurred mair o' mah mukkers than ah care tae recall! They're a scourge 'n' a plague."
"You be from Fenris, yes?" Vulkan asked, her tone dangerously placid. "I be from Nocturn. Tell me: How often did de clans come down from de mountains and kill my people?"
"Thay wur ainlie darkies, thay hardly-" Russ cut herself off, flushing. "Keek, ah made some mistakes, ye see? Bit that's different than th' orks"
"I do not see how," Vulkan snarled, uncrossing her arms to lean down so she was at eye level with Russ. "Mark me, pale face, de orks have been bettah friends to me and mine den you and yours have. But I extend now the hand of friendship to you both. As Mother would want."
"Look, y'all, there's no need for us to fight, please!" Phoebe pled, and Ferri nodded, stepping closer to her sister. "The orks are...different, but heck, we're all different! As long as they're friendly, we can just try to get along, right?"
"You would accept orks as your equals?" Horus demanded of her shorter sister.
Phoebe bit her lip, looking troubled, and Ferri spoke up. "They're crude work now. But let Vulkan forge and refine them. All must be ruled by the Imperium, even the orks."
Horus did not voice her private opinion that the Imperium would be best off without such elements, but nodded her accent. "Very well. The orks are your responsibility, Vulkan. You shall have to see that they behave themselves, and that they are trained to be useful while they remain here."
"Very well, I accept this," Vulkan agreed with a nod. "I shall teach us all how to be friends! Come, we shall put on a show! It will be fun!"
Vulkan moved off, and Phoebe stepped up to Horus and spoke under her breath, "Look, I ain't so fond of orks myself. They're ugly, and messy, and loud, but...well...it's better than a bunch of us gettin' killed fightin' them, right? I don't...I didn't like havin' to kill the orks. I ain't like the rest of y'all. I'm no fighter."
"Says the woman who managed to keep her dress clean while slaughtering a dozen orks," Ferri said with a snort.
"I just...well. A lady has to have her secrets, right?" Phoebe suddenly rubbed her arms. "I need a shower. And some paint, or maybe clay. This is just...it's too much. I'm sorry, but I have to take a break or I'm just gonna lose it."
"Let's get you back to the dorms," Horus said gently, taking Phoebe's arm on one side as Ferri steadied here on the other. "We need to let the other girls know the danger seems to have passed for now. Kittenus, Ezekyle? Supervise the orks until I get back, please."
"Yes, my lady!" Ezekyle agreed, puffing up to be given such responsibility. Horus really should try to make the girl less worshipful and more independent, but...she did rather enjoy the abject affection and awe.
They headed for the Dorms, Phoebe protesting she was fine, she just needed to rest a spell, really, and did you know that there were four of them in a group, and six princesses total now? Four times six was twenty four which was just a lovely number as it was divisible by 2, 3, 4, 6, and 12, and that even though three was a prime number she secretly liked it.
"Make sure she gets some rest," Horus said quietly to Ferri. "If she needs anything, call me or the medico's office. We need...we need…"
The three sisters came to a halt, and even Phoebe's babbling dried up as they gaped at what had been the girls dorms.
"You have returned," a rather tall woman in a hard hat and rather stained three piece suit said, setting aside her shovel, nodding to Ferri and Phoebe. "I have fortified this dorm."
"...yeah, guess so," Ferri managed, still looking on in awe.
The girls dormitory had been transformed. There was now two layers of trenches that had been dug all around the building, with extra trenches with sandbags, two heavy weapons emplacements, and a communications bunker placed at the front, and another two heavy weapons emplacements and a bunker that was nearly finished at the rear entrance. Barbed wire had been found...somewhere...and strug all around the trenches. The extra soil was being used to fill sandbags, with a number of girls working in their dresses, only they were now also wearing overalls, hard hats, steel toed boots, and gloves.
The building itself had been reinforced, with the windows on the first floor boarded up and replaced with firing slits, while the second floor had sandbags and snipers nests from every available window. They didn't seem to have worked their way up to the Imperial Suits on the fifth floor, but Horus didn't imagine it would take them much longer.
"Well I'll swan," Phoebe said, sounding rather dazed. "Where ever did y'all get the materials?"
"I have filled out the proper forms," Dorn stated solemnly, and held up a clipboard.
Horus took it, examining the multiple forms, all filled out in triplicate, for the requisition of weapons, building materials, and safety gear. There were also detailed plans and architectural designs, all apparently completely up to code. They were one and all signed, "Rogal Dorn."
"...I take it you are Princess Dorn?" Horus said, looking up in bemusement.
"I am Rogal Dorn," the woman agreed.
"Well, this is all very nice, but...I think I'm going to need to lay down for a bit still," Phoebe said, now trembling slightly. "There is dirt...everywhere. I don't...I need to clean something."
"Ferri, I'm going to let you take her in. I think... I think I need to inspect this," Horus said, looking about at the still expanding fortifications.
Ferri hustled Phoebe away, and Horus turned to Dorn just in time to have a hard hat plopped on her head.
"Proper PPE are required to enter the worksite," Dorn stated gravely.
"I...see. Well. I suppose the evening is ruined regardless. I'll take the PPE," Horus said with a shrug.
Once she was bedecked in the proper gear, Dorn gave her a tour of the work. It was even more extensive once you hopped down into the trenches than it was above them. There were redoubts, shelters, and sightlines that gave defenders advantages as they pulled back and hampered advancing enemies that might seize the works.
"The work is proceeding well, ma'am," a dark harried girl with a bob cut and serious features reported. "We've just completed the rear bunker, though we'll need to wait overnight for the permacrete to set fully. We're setting up the weapons emplacements now."
"And...you are?" Horus asked. Dorn had singularly failed to introduce anyone thus far.
"Tora Garadon, ma'am," the girl reported with a polite nod.
"You have done good work," Dorn declared after inspecting the still drying bunker. "You are promoted to shift overseer."
"Thank you, ma'am," Tora said with a salute.
"Carry on, overseer," Horus said in bemusement, and followed after Dorn for the rest of the inspection.
"So, all this is to hold off the orks?" Horus asked as they returned to the front of the building.
"There are orks?" Dorn demanded, spinning about.
"Er, yes, I thought-"
"You there!" Dorn called, pointing to a redhaired girl who looked up from setting up an autocanon turret. "We must increase the extent of our fortifications. There are greenskins."
"Yes ma'am!" the girl said enthusiastically. "Does that mean we can have more weapons?"
"I will give you a requisition form," Dorn stated, hastily filling out another sheet. "What is your name?"
"Darna Lysander, your Highness."
"Her highness did not ask you. I did," Dorn said, holding out the form.
Lysander blinked, but shrugged. "Well, OK, what do I call you then?"
"I am Rogal Dorn."
"Works for me! Ooo, this covers melee weapons! I want a thunder hammer and a storm shield!" Lysander hurried off, a gleeful look on her face.
"Dorn...did you not know about the orks?" Horus asked.
"I know what orks are. They are very destructive. And they never follow building codes. Very shoddy," Dorn said, in a tone that indicated that not following building codes was the most dire of sins imaginable.
"Yes...but then...if you didn't know...why all this?"
"It seemed prudent," Dorn replied.
"I...guess so," Horus agreed. She sighed. "Well, I really must see what those orks are up to. You...continue your work, I suppose. It's a bit excessive, but...well. Better safe than sorry, I suppose."
"I am not safe, or sorry. I am Rogal Dorn."
On that bizarre note, Horus departed to make sure that the orks were not burning or looting the rest of the campus.
To Horus immense relief and total scandal, the orks and taken over the grand banquet hall. All the fine food and drink were being guzzled down by the greenskins with great panache, but none of the appreciation for the quality. The stage Horus had meant to make her speech from had been converted into a concert stage, complete with giant speakers, gaudy paint, and emplacements for pyrotechnics displays.
Horus wondered if she should get Dorn in here to do an inspection, and decided that having one sister have a near breakdown in an evening was more than enough for her. Instead, Horus went to find Kittenus and Ezekyle as the band "warmed up." Which meant they were making various discordant noises seemingly at random.
Instead of the two of them, however, Horus found her two least favorite xenos. Though up reflection, with this many orks about, the tau and the elf had risen rather sharply in her estimation.
"Princess," Shadowsun said with a nod. The blue xenos had found some flak armor somewhere, having replaced her dress with it. She was also holding a lasgun, which made Horus's skin crawl slightly.
As for Macha, the elf was still wearing her green evening gown, though she had a witch blade and one of those nasty pistols her race favored. Where had that contraband come from? No matter.
"Xenos," Horus said, forcing herself to a polite nod. Shaserra's face was blank, but Macha rolled her eyes.
"Human. My, I do so enjoy watching you squirm. It's almost worth having the orks about," the elf sneered.
"If there is one thing I agree with your race on, Macha, it is that the greenskins are our common foe," Horus sniffed. "Though I suppose someone as desperate as you might consider laying with a greenskin."
That got a slight reaction out of the annoying alien, her eyes widening slightly. But then she smiled, and said sweetly, "Unlike you, I do not sleep with my pets. Though you seem to enjoy keeping one of your own species. Oh look, here she comes now."
Ezekyle did indeed hurry up in a somewhat rumpled gown. "Your Highness! The orks, um, well, they're talking about being paid. I don't think we should give the xenos anything but lasgun fire, but, well…"
"They shall be paid out of Vulkan's Imperial expense account," Horus stated flatly. "We honor our word. Even to aliens."
That got a sniff from Macha, while Shadowsun's expression become a tad sterner.
"With your permission, ma'am, I will run security," Shaserra said, her tone brisk and efficient. "The orks might get rowdy. I'll break up any fights."
Horus bit back a remark about t'au and their ineffectiveness in melee. This was, after all, the sister of Farsight. She probably knew which end of the buzz baton she carried was which. "Thank you, Shas'O. That will suffice."
If the aliens kept to their place, as servants and slaves, then Horus would tolerate them. For now.
"I shall assist. I have no desire to partake in this...noise," Macha sniffed.
Despite herself, Horus found she was nodding in agreement. Well. Even an elf could tell the truth once a century.
"Very well. I shall see to it that you have help. Perhaps those three gentlemen on the wrestling team can assist you," Horus offered.
That got Macha's attention. The thirsty idiot probably didn't even realize she was the wrong species and gender for those three.
"That would be...appropriate. Even if their brains are nonfunctional, I assume the muscles are more than ornamental," Macha said in a haughty tone.
Shadowsun rolled her eyes, saying, "Let's get on patrol. Make sure the orks stay where they're supposed to."
The two xenos moved off, and Horus turned her attention to Ezekyle, who was looking up at her hopefully. "Yes? Did you have aught else?"
"Well, um, they're going to be playing music, and, even if it's not appropriate...maybe...we could...dance?" Ezekyle said shyly.
Very nearly, Horus rejected the idea out of hand. She did not intend to emulate her mother's philandering ways, nor her habit of taking lovers on what seemed to Horus to be a rather indiscriminate basis. However, the abject worship in Ezekyle's eyes...did something for Horus.
She inclined her head and smiled. "I might not enjoy the music, but the company will do."
The worshipful glow in the girl's eyes made it all worth it.
Just then, the largest of the orks, the female with the purple hair and mechanical arm, strode up to the microphone and bellowed,
"ARE YOU GITS READY TO ROCK?!"
To Horus's horror, the students present all screamed their assent.
What madness had she wrought?
Author's Note:
Shadowsun is the "human" version of Shaserra's name. She considers it derogatory to be called Shadowsun in this story, which is why Horus thinks of her that way. By the same token, aeldari is the proper term for that race, while eldar is a bit politically incorrect, while calling them an elf is...very rude.
Also, I'm going to be going on vacation for the next week, and my updates may be a bit sporadic.