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Sister Irena Axilla stood in the main chapel of the convent of Thracia Prime and lit the fifteenth candles at the Alter of the Emperor Ascendant. Fifteen candles, one for each of the days since the entire Order of the Penitent Lady left on campaign to purge rebels from the world of Tacitus Segundus.

They had drawn lots to decide who would stay behind and manage the daily operations of the convent while the Order was away. She had drawn the lowest number so she had to duty to stay behind and watch her sisters leave on campaign. It felt like more of a punishment. Perhaps the Divine Emperor was displeased with her. Maybe she hadn’t been as faithful in her prayers or as devoted in her daily mortifications.

Fifteen days of doing nothing worthwhile. Fifteen days down and at least a year to go. It would be a year if everything went according to plan. Nothing ever went according to plan. During the tactical and strategic classes they always nailed it into her head that no plan survives contact with the enemy. They always needed a plan but they always needed to be flexible if that plan went awry.

The convent of Thracia Prime had never felt so empty, so devoid of life. What had been her home for twenty two years was now a collection of gray stone walls. All her sisters were gone. Normally they would have left a sizable force to defend the Convent but the High Lords of Terra had stressed that they’d need every sister they could spare and Canoness Helena had taken the Lords at their word. Instead of faithful sisters, she had armed servitors roaming the halls, a gift from the local branch of the heretical Adaptus Mechanicus.

Fifteen days and she was ready to kill something.

She stood up from where she had kneeled in front of the alter of St. Augustina and brushed her robes off.

This was ridiculous. She had just been promoted to Sister Superior, in charge of a Retributor squad and should be out there fighting the heretic. Instead she was praying and meditating and making sure the servitors clean the convent while the Order was away.

Of course it was holy work and an honor to serve the Emperor, but some had callings to serve in different ways. Her calling was to stab any heretic, mutant or xeno in the face with her chain sword.

“Patience,” Abbess Placidia told her before she left. “It is your calling. It is no coincidence that you were chosen to stay here.”

Not a coincidence; a mistake. Certain sisters had the humor to maintain an empty convent. Irena did not. This was not why the Emperor brought her into the fold of the Order. She was made for combat, not…whatever this was.

She reached down and unholstered her plasma pistol, a gift for her newly earned rank. The weight was different than the bolter she was used to. She liked the heaviness and power of the bolter. The bolter was also as reliable as the setting of the sun. The plasma pistol was temperamental at best. It did not seem a promotion to her.
She wanted to shoot something with it; something that needed shooting.

Still, the convent wasn’t completely empty. There were a hand full of new Sisters Repentia and a few non-combatants left, but she hardly knew them. The Repentia were the survivors of a squad and they were being punished for cowardice. They had full Soriatas training but they hadn’t finished their purification so they hadn’t left on campaign. Sometimes she would hear their screams late at night.

She passed by the scriptorium where the Diologus, Sister Honoria was working. Irena glanced in and saw the woman bent over a pile of scrolls. A servitor skull was hovering above her taking pictures of whatever she was working on. The tall woman seldom left her scriptorium and preferred the company of dusty books. Her way of serving the Emperor was with scholarly pursuits. That was fine, but it would have been torture for Irena.

The other sister left was a Hospitilar that worked mostly with the nobles. They needed one Hospitilar left or the nobles would do nothing but complain. She was usually off at the palaces of the ruling class.

The only other person left in the convent was a Mechanicum adept. Only females were allowed within the walls so they had a female adept to work on their equipment. At first the Mechanicum had protested the need for a female because they didn’t understand the importance of gender. Heretical freaks. But Canoness Helena was adamant and when she set her mind to something, she always got her way.

They had recently acquired a great deal of broken war machines from an Imperial Guard regiment that fought nearby and had a few inoperable machines of their own. It was too much work for one inexperienced adept so the piles of broken down things kept accumulating. She had to go see the adept soon. Her cybernetic arm needed recalibration.
The cyber arm was a reminder of the power of artillery during the cleansing of Patimos IV. The explosion had thrown her into the air and when she had landed she had been missing an arm. She hadn’t even felt it at first. She still had her bolter though so she had continued the fight.

Somehow she found herself by the door to the Paleastra of arms. Some target practice could do her good; providing the plasma pistol didn’t explode in her face. She would have liked to trade the temperamental thing in for a bolt pistol but one doesn’t return a gift from Canoness Helena.

She went into the training room and had the servitor move the plasteel target back to fifty meters. It was a thick chunk of metal that could take a few hits from plasma. She’d have to turn the setting down to avoid blowing the target up before she managed to improve.

She gripped the pistol tightly in one hand and then brought the other around the other hand, with her thumb pointing forward. Taking aim down the sights she held her breath and squeezed the trigger in a slow, smooth manner.

The plasma pistol flared and there was the bang of the sudden heat difference as the plasma super heated the air around the blast. Her shot hit high and to the right.
It wasn’t a bad trigger at least. She hated a bad trigger. A bad trigger can throw off a shot like nothing else except a rampaging Greenskin war chief.
She fired until the plasma coils were spent and the temperature warning light was flashing.

It didn’t have the visceral harshness of a bolter and somehow didn’t feel as satisfying as the heavy projectile weapon.
Shame.

She then made her way to the almost empty armory. Only a handful of weapons and vehicles remained and most of those were in need of repair.
The black armory door slid opened revealing the vehicle bay and the weapon lockers on the far side.

An engineless rhino sat beside an immolator with no tracks. A penitent engine sat in the corner in a heap and various parts and pieces she didn’t recognize covered the rest of the armory floor. The lights were clear and bright in here, unlike the darkness that pervaded in the rest of the convent.

She walked over to the lockers and racks and found a spare plasma battery. She changed it out and put her used battery in the recharger. At least she wouldn’t run out of ammo during the year. She had a feeling she’d be at the firing range often.

Irena made her way to her cell where her armor hung on the wall. Her Sabat pattern helmet with the white visor now had a fleur de lis on top. She ran her gloved hand down the new ornament.

That’s all it was; an ornament like her. She decorated this convent but did nothing in useful.
She opened up the book of Flavius Erobolis and began reading. At times the scriptures gave her comfort and guidance

But not tonight.

She had to do something. Heresy and treachery were out there, not in this empty convent. Her sisters were purifying the galaxy and she was stuck in a cell.
Ornamentation was what she was. But she was not meant to be an ornament.

Saying a word that was beneath her and would cause her repentance later, she jumped up off her bed and began putting her armor on. She holstered her pistol, strapped the chainsword on her back and donned her helmet. The displays in the helmet’s vision appeared and the targeter icon lay active in the middle of the display.

Sister Irena wasn’t going to sit idly by while the world of Thracia Prime degenerated into heresy. The main force of sisters were gone, but by the Emperor she was still here.
She marched out of the main convent doors and into the frigid air of the winter night. The immense town square lay before her, the fountain depicting one of the High Lords of Terra was shut off so the pipes wouldn’t freeze. It was a massive oval space surrounded by governmental buildings and a Cathedral that rose above every other building in the city.

Normally she was not allowed outside but she was in charge now so it was her duty to remain watchful. She couldn’t very well be watching anything inside a cell.

The glow globes illuminated the square but nobody was there. That was because criminals and heretics performed their deeds in the darkness. That was where she had to go.
Irena began walking towards one of the alleys, with no idea where she was going. The Emperor would guide her.

The rubber soles of her armored boots didn’t alert anyone to her presence and her helmet switched to the ‘grey vision’ to allow her to see in the dark. Heat showed up as light and cold was darkness, just as St. Eulacian described the rewards of the just and unjust.

She walked through the narrow side streets of the small, crowded city. Thracia Prime was an unimportant, solitary city whose only purpose was to keep the mine of adamantium churning out product for the Emperor’s armies.

At one time there were plans for this world, but somehow in all the bureaucracy of Terra the world had been forgotten. It was just one, miserable city that was freezing at night and filled with soot during the day.

The tiny local garrison could only do so much and their attentions were usually divided. With the Sisters gone no one was there to watch for corruption.

The side streets had closed doors and few windows. What windows there were, were boarded up and bared. Evidence of fear. No Imperial citizen should have to live in fear.
Now that Sister Irena Axilla was on duty they would have no more reason to fear. The Emperor watched over her. Three was nothing else they needed to know.
Then she saw something that made her stop. She looked at it for a few moments before turning and walked towards it.

On the corner of a building was a shrine to the Emperor. Only the icon that was normally there was on the ground and shattered into pieces. Where the statuette once stood was a crudely painted symbol of some kind. It looked like a circle with three lines crossing through at different angles.

The color of the symbol looked like dried blood.

Part 2


Irena stared at the blasphemous desecration of the Emperor’s image. Someone had smashed the icon on purpose and drew that horrible symbol.

She drew her plasma pistol and began looking around. There was no evidence as to who did this or when. So she walked from shrine to shrine looking for signs of desecration.
Three other shrines had been vandalized. Each one had that symbol painted in its place.

No one was about to question or interrogate and no matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t find any evidence. All she could do was take a photo of the symbol using her helmet’s camera.

Irena went back to the convent and hung her power armor up in its alcove. Then she put her sword in the rack. The pistol she kept holstered at her side. Trouble could rear its head at any time.

Investigation was not her strength, smashing things was. She didn’t even know where to begin. Canoness Helena would know what to do. But she wasn’t here.
She wasn’t an ornament; she was a weapon. She needed to be pointed in the right direction so she could destroy the enemy.

Sleep didn’t come easily that night and she woke up earlier than usual. Whatever her strengths were, she wasn’t clever enough to figure this out on her own. She needed some way to catch the heretics in the act or track them down. Perhaps some servo skulls monitoring the different shrines?

The only clue she had was the symbol.

She knew nothing of symbols, but Sister Honoria did. Diologus were trained in symbols and obscure codes.

Honoria wasn’t in the scriptorium. She probably wasn’t up yet. So Irena went to her room and opened the door. It was still dark inside but the light from the hallway illuminated the tiny room. There was a sleeping form in the bed.

“Wake up, Sister Honoria!”

She kicked the bed with her booted foot.

“Huh?”

Honoria sat up and rubbed her face. She could hear Honoria’s red cyber eyes adjusting to the dark. Flesh eyes were too weak to cope with the constant reading and studying the Diologus had to do so most opted for machine eyes. That way they could also capture images in their computer memory.

“Wake up, Sister Honoria. I need your help,” Irena said.

Honoria moved her feet to the edge of the bed and placed them on the cold, stone floor. Her white, bobbed hair was sticking up at odd angles and her face was covered in marks from where she had been sleeping on it.

“What’s going on?”

“I need you to look at this.”

She held up her crude drawing of the symbol.

Honoria’s brow furrowed as she leaned in closer to inspect it.

“Is this important? It’s only 0400, you know, sister.”

“Can you tell me what it means?”

Honoria’s red mechanical eyes peered at the piece of paper for a moment.

“I don’t know,” Honoria said. “Let me do some research and get back to you.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“But I…I don’t have it in my memory. I have to see if it’s recorded somewhere else,” she said, wincing a little.

“Very well, but I expect you to hurry.”

“I will, Sister Axilla.”

Irena left to let the Diologus get dressed. There was no telling how long it would take Honoria to come up with an answer, so she had some time. She hated having time. Spare time meant that something wasn’t getting done.

She went and had breakfast in the empty cafeteria where there’d normally be hundreds of sisters. Rows of wooden benches and tables sat in lines and the area where the cooks normally were was filled only with an auto dispenser that served instant food. The place felt like a tomb but without the glory of past deeds.

Afterwards she checked on the maintenance servitors, read some scriptures, prayed, walked the perimeter of the convent and read some more.
It wasn’t even midday yet.

Irena took off her left glove and looked at her machine hand. Everything felt normal with it. She had basic tactile function, no glitches in the motors, but sometimes it felt a bit sluggish. No point in putting it off. She had to go see the Mechanicum adept.

She went to the armory and as soon as she opened the doors she heard the sound of heavy machinery and a horrible drilling sound, like the shriek of a tone of twisting metal.
Irena stuck her head in and looked around. In the far corner the Adept was working. Her back harness had several servo arms, one of them was holding a giant piece of metal while another one equipped with a plasma torch was cutting it into two. All Irena saw from the rear was the servo pack with six arms that reminded her of some sort of insane insect, and the dark red robes of the Mechanicum.

She couldn’t remember the Adept’s name. She tried not to get close to heretics, even sanctioned ones. Why Terra permitted these engineers and mechanics to serve a false religion was beyond her. But, she’d get into serious trouble if she shot one of them, so she had to tolerate them for now.

“Adept, I need you to look at my arm!” She shouted over the sound of cutting metal.

The Tech Priest stopped what she was doing and turned to look at her. Her glowing green eyes, one large and the other a cluster a three, stared at her for a few moments. The only flesh she saw on the female Tech Priest was the lower half of her face. One arm was a normal machine arm similar to what Irena had, the other looked more like a mess of cables, clamps and tools. Her eyes and everything above was machine. She didn’t want to guess at what monstrosities were under the robes.

“Sister Axilla, what may I do for you?” The Adept asked in a monotone voice.

“I need you to look at my arm. It’s acting odd.”

She held up her cyber arm to show the adept.

“Define, odd.”

“Not as responsive as it should be at times.”

“Necessary calibration is most probable.”

“Well then, let’s do a necessary calibration.”

The female adept motioned towards a work bench that was meticulously neat. Every tool and part was in its proper place. With the machine way these Mechanicum people operated she didn’t doubt that everything was where it was for maximum efficiency.

The adept motioned for her to place her arm on the workbench. Irena complied. Then one of the metal tentacles came up and attached itself to Irena’s arm. The woman looked at the arm without a hint of expression.

“Good news or bad?” Irena asked.

“Neither. What is, simply is.”

She was starting to sound like the old prioress before she died. She mumbled fatalistic ramblings all the time.

“Something is troubling you,” the adept said.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Your body’s algorithms are chaotic.”

Irena had no idea what that meant and didn’t care.

“Can you fix it?”

“Already calibrated. But this model of cybernetic limb will continue to experience data corruption if the biochemical signals it receives are sporratic and contradictory. What troubles you?”

“Nothing.”

“I can tell by your increased heartbeat and dilation of pupils that you are lying.”

This heretical machine woman was starting to annoy her. The last creature that annoyed her received a bolter round in the face.

“I found some desecrated shrines to the Emperor.”

“Where?”

“In the city.”

“Desecrated how?”

“Smashed. There was also graffiti of a symbol I didn’t recognize.”

“Symbol? Did it look like this?”

The tech priest lifted her human shaped hand and a holo projection appeared above it showing the circle with the three marks through it.

“By Terra! Where have you seen that before?”

Part 3

Engineseer Sophia Teranachus.


Sophia wondered at the emotional reaction the Sororitas was having at the image she had produced. Her biological responses were obvious and her flesh eyes went wide.

“I assume this is indeed the image you saw?” Sophia asked.

“How did you know?”

“We have found this mark painted on six of our sacred images at our fabricorum.”

“You’ve experienced desecration as well?”

“Someone has desecrated eight of our holy Cog symbols on the outside of our walls as of this morning.”

“Any suspects?”

“None.”

The Sororitas shook her head, her white chin-length hair swaying about her like useless wires.

“We assumed it was anti Mechanicus zealots,” Sophia said.

“Apparently not.”

“We discovered the vandalism too late and weren’t able to collect sufficient evidence.”

“Evidence? What kind?” Sister Irena asked.

“Chemical readings mostly. They leave no DNA or fingerprints.”

“But if you found a fresh sacrilege, you might be able to get some kind of reading?”

“That is correct.”

Sister Axilla sat back and rubbed her chin with her flash hand while tapping on the counter with her cyber hand.

The cyber arm the Sororitas had was an older model, one reserved for low ranking soldiers that were too valuable to simply let retire. It was an older design but one that Sophia respected. It was reliable and easy to maintain. That meant she spent less time maintaining such limbs and more time with the truly important things.

She looked over her workshop at the mountain of projects she had yet to complete. Several out of commission vehicles, weapons and a Penitent Engine that was having problems with its machine spirit.

All the other Engineseers were off with the Sororitas Order on campaign. She was left here due to her ability to enter the convent. They attached meaning to biological terms such as “male” and “female.” The flesh didn’t matter. Only the metal was pure.

It was irrational and against all logic, but she resented staying here. She was a better engineer than most others of her rank, yet she was left behind to work in the shop.
It was beneath her.

Then the Sister leaned forward with a feral grin. Sophia never understood why flesh humans had to display every emotion to an absurd level.

“Sophia, how about we go out tonight and look for recent desecration? Perhaps we can gain evidence if we’re timely enough.”

“That is not my duty.”

“It’s everyone’s duty to protect against heresy.”

“It is not this one’s function to investigate.”

“I don’t have the sensors that you do. If you can find evidence then I need you to come with me.”

The sororitas spoke logic. Her limited flesh faculties could not detect trace chemicals, heat or DNA.

“I will ask permission,” Sophia said.

“Very well.”

The Soroitas slapped the workbench and laughed.

“I’ll come get you when its time,” Sister Irena said.

Then she got up and left.

Sophia finished her work that day and left the convent. The convent was unusually quiet now that the Order was gone. It felt almost abandoned.
She left through the arched gateway and into the streets of the Imperial city. She reminisced on what had taken her from Mars to this lowly backwater planet far from the Holy world of Mars.
Her master was disgraced and she, by association was disgraced.

But she would earn her way back to Mars. She would not spend the rest of her life on this miserable rock. The forges of Holy Mars was her home, not this insignificant place.
Her metal feet clicked pleasantly on the pavement of the city street. Even the sound of her walk separated her from the flesh humans that surrounded her. Everywhere she looked she saw mindless people going about their daily lives, completely oblivious of the true glories of the universe. They had never peered into the inner workings of a plasma reactor or ran a diagnostic on a Dreadnaught’s machine spirit. They didn’t see the Noosphere and its infinite information that surrounded the followers of the Machine God. Pure knowledge filled the air around them and they remained utterly ignorant of it all.

Sophia stopped at the gate of the manufactorum and slipped one of her mechadendrites into the slot. The security computer read her ID codes and the metal door beside the enormous vehicle bay doors opened. She walked in and her cyber eyes switched to low-light settings.

All around her she could hear and feel the humming of the manufactorum machines. It was a sweet feeling that reminded her of Mars. Such an emotional reaction was beneath her but when it came to Mars, she allowed herself the small moment of weakness.

She made her way to the office of the Chief Artisan of the manufactorum. Her noosphere told her that he was here and she sent a request for a meeting.
His reply was almost immediate.

“Yes. Now,” the message said.

The door opened and she stepped through. His office was covered in screens of scrolling information. He stood in the middle as his dozens of eyes scanned everything that happened around him. The hood of his red cloak was down, revealing the array of sensors and communication devices that made up the Artisan’s head.

“You wish to speak?” Artisan Dominarus said in machine cant.

“The recent desecration of holy symbols. Sororitas are concerned. Imperial shrines destroyed. Sororitas requests that I accompany her to scan for evidence she does not have the capability to detect.”

“Your work in the convent facility?”

She sent a data burst of everything in the repair bay of the convent.

Two of his eyes turned and focused on her.

“That is a lot of work for one Engineseer.”

“I have time. The Order is not scheduled to return for three hundred and eighty eight days. I estimate it will take me eleven months maximum to finish repair work.”

“Do you approve of the Sister’s plan?”

“It has logic to it.”

“Permission granted on basis that you arm yourself.”

She bowed with respect and left.

Next she went to the Tech Guard’s armory. The world had a militia but the manufactorum had its own defenses. Gun-servitors and Tech Guard outclassed mere planetary militia.
Another Engineseer managed the armory. His six servo arms were busy repairing a plasma gun.

“Can I help you?” He canted without looking up from his work.

“The Artisan asked that I arm myself.”

“Reason?”

“An investigation outside.”

“Not your usual task.”

“No, but necessary.”

His flesh hand pointed over to a wall where weapons made to fit on modular servo arms were stored.

Sophia walked over and looked over the selection. There were dozens of each type of weapon, some she didn’t recognize and assumed they were creations or modifications by the armory’s Engineseer.

She used her two cyber arms to detach the claw of her bottom right servo arm and put it in a container for safe keeping. Then her servo arm moved up and attached itself to the rear of a melta gun. She did the same with her top left one and attached a multi barrled laser that didn’t fit the standard template. As it attached she opened the data packet that appeared in her noosphere. The information said that it was a much older model of multi laser with a higher output but shorter battery life. The targeting program downloaded into her brain.
Red dots appeared in her vision showing where her guns were pointing. She had had basic combat training and knew how to fight if it was unavoidable. She would prefer not to. Even if victorious she might receive damage to her glorious machine body.

Once equipped she made her way back to the convent to inform the sister superior that she was ready.

“Not yet. At night. The cowards only come out at night,” Sister Irena said.

The internal chronometer told her she had two hours until the sun set. She went back to the repair bay and worked as she waited.

Part 4
Sister Irene Axilla


Irena entered the repair bay where the Mechanicus woman was working. The metallic voice on the intercom was reciting sayings of their Machine Cult.

“The Omnisiah watches all. Do not falter in his sight and maintain the sacred machines. Do not fear for the Machine God does not fear,” the voice said, sad and hollow in the background.
It was heresy. Only the Emperor was worthy of worship. All else was lies and superstitions. She wanted to shoot the loudspeaker to silence the apostasy emanating from it.

“Adept Sophia. It’s time.”

The techpriest stopped the repairs she was making on a Rhino engine and stood up.

“I am ready, Sister Superior.”

The adept walked beside her as they went down the hall. Irena had her helmet tucked under her arm. Many sisters liked to prove their bravery by entering battle without a helmet. She thought that was foolish and risking their deaths when their lives would serve the Emperor better was a sin.

“Have you heard anything more about the desecrations?” Sophia asked.

“No, but I have a feeling in my stomach that there’s more to this than wicked vandalism.”

“There is no basis for continuing that line of thought.”

“Don’t you machines have intuition?”

Perhaps they lost their souls when they gave up their bodies.

She wondered how much of Sophia was actually left under those thick, red robes. Sophia was lower rank so she couldn’t be as extensively modified as other Mechanicum she had seen. She had at least the top part of her skull replaced, her arms and probably her legs, unless she was wearing armored boots.

“Are you wearing armor?” Irena asked.

“No, but I am well armed and skilled in battle.”

Irena laughed.

“Many think they’re skilled in battle until the real thing strikes them in the face.”

“I have undergone seventy five combat simulations.”

“Simulations and the real thing are no the same.”

“The simulations were programmed for maximum realism. A battle in which you can not tell if it is real is no different than one which is. Theory leads to practice.”

“You’ll see once death starts flying through the air at you.”

They marched out the front gate and into the city square.

Only a few men coming back from late shifts at the mine were walking about. One of the men walking off toward the center of the city wore the uniform of a planetary militia. They weren’t close to the professionalism of the Imperial Guard, but sometimes they were all that stood in the way of the enemies of the Empire and for that she gave him a brief moment of respect.
She made the sign of the Aquilla over her chest in honor of the brave men and women of the Militia and Imperial Guard.

She had often wondered if she would have joined their ranks if her parents had lived. They had died when she was but seventeen months old. All she knew of them were that they were nobles from Terra. It was more than she needed to know. They were meaningless next to her service to the Empire.

Irena noticed that a few of the miners, upon seeing her, hurried off in the other direction. What did they have to fear if they weren’t heretics? If they were pure then they had nothing to worry about.

But if they did have heresy in their hearts, then she’d shoot them and take their families in for questioning.

“Do you have any suggestions on where we may begin our search?” Sophia asked with a polite bow.

The adept’s hunched form was a good head shorter than Irena. She’d probably come up to her chin if she stood up straight. The servo arms though made her quite imposing. One had a melta gun, another a multi laser of some kind and the other two ended in a clamp that could crush metal and a long drill on her tool arm.

She liked the choice of the melta gun on the end of one of Sophia’s servo arms. It showed she meant she took this threat seriously. Some would call it over-kill, but Irena didn’t believe in such a thing.

The melta gun was like a Justicar’s shotgun. Powerful up close with a wide spread.

Shotgun.

She thought about it. There were some circumstances where she’d like a shotgun. Perhaps if she could mount one under a bolter like the Cannoness had a flamer under hers. She’d have to ask permission for that later.

That would do better than an untried plasma pistol.

The two of them began walking through the narrow back streets of the city. Her helmet tracked movement and saw through the shadows. So far, nothing but rats.

“Are we to capture or kill?” Sophia asked.

“Kill of course. There’s nothing to learn from destructive heretics.”

Irena rested her hands one her belt and stopped to listen. Sophia stopped beside her and cocked her head.

“Sometimes it’s necessary to stop and listen,” Irena said.

After a while of listening to the sounds of the sleeping city, she continued on.

Two hours into their patrol she saw something move in an ally to her right. She grabbed Sophia by the metal arm and pulled them to the side. She then peeked around the corner and saw a man at the far end where a shrine to Empire stood.

The man wore rags and had half his head shaven with strange tattoos covering the bald portion. He had a hammer and was hacking away at the shrine.

As she was raising her pistol she saw a gang of about ten men approach the man. They were likewise dressed in unsavory way and most of them were armed. Some carried civilian lasguns, auto guns, shotguns and various pistols.

Eleven of them armed with crude but effective weapons. They had numbers on their side but she had armor, plasma and the faith of the Emperor on hers.

“Ready on the count of three,” Irena said.

“What, may I ask, is the plan?” Sophia asked.

“We kill them all.”

“We’re outnumbered. Our chances are not above fifty percent.”

“Nonsense! You and your damn logic. Where’s your faith? There are enemies of the Empire right there and so we have a duty to destroy them. It’s that simple.”

“I see there is no arguing.”

“You’re beginning to learn.”

“Very well.”

The adept’s servo arms came up over her head with their guns at the ready. Their red targeting lasers moved down the alley and landed on the back of one of the heretics.

“One more thing,” Irena said.

“Yes, Sister Superior?”

“Don’t forget to stay behind cover.”

“Of course.”

“Three…two…one…now!”

She crouched down low and aimed around the corner. They were in a close group so aiming wasn’t that difficult.

She fired and the air around the pistol cracked like thunder. The bolt of searing hot plasma struck the first man in the gang and he burst apart in a fiery mess, covering his compatriots with gore and fire.

That wasn’t bad. Perhaps she could get used to this pistol.

The Adept opened fire in a blaze of energy and light. The scatter laser tore through the crowd and the melta gun struck two of the men burning their flesh to the bones in a blinding instant. A few managed to get some shots off while Irena fired again, blowing apart another man.

An autogun round plinked off her helmet and another shot struck the cement by her feet.

The four men that remained scattered. One fell over on to his back and the three others took off running in different directions. One of them let loose with a burst from his autogun that struck the wall near Irena’s head. To the heretical adept’s credit, she didn’t even flinch.

“Follow!”

Irena bolted after them and she could hear the wheezing mechanical sounds coming from Sophia behind her.

Just as she came to the corner she felt a hand stop her in her tracks.

“Don’t stop me! They’re on the run!” Irena shouted at the Adept.

“Ambush.”

One of Sophia’s mechadendrites with an ocular device moved and peered around the corner.

“As I surmised. Two of them await behind a tractor,” Sophia said.

Irena stopped and thought. She would have charged right around the corner without hesitation. She should have known better.

“I have a flash grenade,” Irena said.

Sophia nodded and withdrew her optic.

Irena unclipped the grenade from her belt, pulled the pin and threw it. The manual says to count to three, but in her experience three often meant one.
The grenade went off and Irena burst around the corner. The two heretics were staggering and holding their hands to their eyes.

She reached back and grabbed the chainsword. With one clean motion she unhooked the sword and brought it down in an overhead arc onto the first heretic. The motor of the sword burst into life with a maniacal sound like a roaring beast. The teeth of the chains moved too fast to see and tore into the unprotected flesh as if it weren’t there. She had cut through his entire torso at an angle and his head and shoulder flew away from the rest of his body.

She looked over and saw that Sophia had the other heretic in the grip of one of her large servo-claws and had lifted him off the ground. He was struggling in vain to loosen the grip around his neck as his feet kicked in the air.

“I will question this one,” Sophia said.

Irena flicked her sword to get the filthy blood off and returned it to its mag-clamp on her pack.

“If you insist. I’d sooner crush his head in.”

“I will take him back to the Manufactorum for complete interrogation.”

“I want to be there. Take him to the Convent.”

“You might find it unpleasant to watch.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Part 5
Sister Honoria


Sister Honoria closed the ancient codex and set it aside. So far she hadn’t found the meaning of the symbol that Sister Irena Axilla had given her. She didn’t honestly believe that the symbol was of any importance, but the puzzle intrigued her. If it was known to the empire, she would find its meaning.

Also, Sister Axilla wasn’t one to refuse. She was frightening.

She stood up from the wooden table and picked up the heavy, leather bound codex. She put it back in its proper place and went to the next book on her list. This “book” was an ancient data slab left over from before the time of Strife when slower than light ships spread humanity out to countless worlds, only to let them fall away in ignorance and solitude.
She plugged the data slab into a terminal and brought it back to life. The cracked screen burst into static for a few seconds every few minutes, but it still worked and the data was not lost.
It was in a Terran language that no one spoke anymore but her cyber eyes brought up the translation using a program she had written herself. She had help from the Mechanicus woman, Sophia, but she had provided all the translation data.

The data on the slab was the history of an ancient Terran project to keep a city called “Venezia” from disappearing into the ocean. It was fascinating.

She had gone through a hundred pages when she noticed the time on her internal chronometer. She had an hour before she had to be at the palace of Governor Preventius. It was time for his children’s tutoring in language and literature.

Once everything was put back into is proper place and the convent library was perfect again, she shut the door and began walking towards the exit. She passed by the chapel and found it odd that no one was there. Where was Axilla?

She left the walls of the convent and walked up the hillside to the Ciel District where the rich and powerful had their homes. The paving became smoother and trees lined the streets. The trees grew bigger the closer she got to the Governor’s palace.

The guards gave her a cursory inspection before letting her in. She carried nothing with her and only had her robes. All the other gear of a Diologus sister was left behind in the convent. She didn’t need her vox projectors or anything else. She only had three well behaved students.

Back during her novice years of training, she had received basic firearms training and she knew how to shoot a las-pistol and even a heavy bolt pistol, but she had never needed those skills since.

She was a scholar, not a fighter.

A few of the servants gave her nods as she passed by.

It seemed the entire mansion was being redecorated. Old tapestries that had been there for years were being taken down and servants were running carrying vases and statues.
“What is going on?” she asked a nearby servant that was carrying a rolled up carpet.

“The master wants the house redone in some new style he’s obsessed about. I don’t know what they do, I just do as I’m told.”
“As we should. Thank you.”

Some new fashion among the nobilitae? She had little time or patience for such trivialities.

She went to the family wing of the mansion and to the door of the children’s quarters. They were expecting her and the three children were sitting around the table with their data slates.

“Very good, children. You’re all ready to start your studies,” she said.

It had taken a year but she had finally gotten the children to conform to the standard template of childhood instruction.
One of the girls raised her hand.

“Yes, Lucia?”

“Father says that history is a waste of time.”

“Waste of time? Not at all. Only by knowing the sacrifices our ancestors made for the Empire do we appreciate what we have now.”
She started with a lesson in basic mathematics and then went into the lesson on the Imperial Creed.

As she lectured she saw that Julia wasn’t paying attention and was doodling on her data slate. Honoria reached over and snatched the slate away.
“What are you drawing that’s more important than the Imperial Creed?”

She turned it around and looked at what the little girl had drawn.

It was a symbol. A symbol that a little girl should not have known unless she had seen it somewhere. It was old and something was wrong with it. Her memory stirred and she took out her own data slate and began searching through her library until a match appeared.

The symbol of the Chaos power Slaanesh.

She almost dropped the slate.

“Julia, where did you see this symbol?” Honoria said, keeping her voice level and calm.

“Father has it in his office.”

Julia kept her eyes on the ground. She was scared of punishment but Honoria didn’t care about such trivialities right now.
This was big and it was terrible.

“Does it have something to do with the redecorating?” Honoria asked.
Julia shrugged.

“I don’t know. I think its for all his parties that he won’t let us go to.”

“Parties?”

Julia and Lucia told her about late night parties with wild music, drinks, chems and naked people doing strange things. The symbol Julia drew was on the wall where the Imperial Eagle used to be.

Honoria had to do something. The governor was trafficking in powers he shouldn’t be meddling with and casting aside the Imperial Truth. She suspected that he had waited for the Order to leave before opening up as a heretic.

But right now she had to realize her position. She was the house of the most powerful man on the colony and for all she knew all his armed guards were heretics as well.
She erased the image and gave the slate back to Julia.

“Children, do not mention this to your father or anyone else. You must swear to pretend that you never saw this symbol and never showed it to me. Understand?” They nodded their heads. “Sister Honoria is not feeling well and I’m ending the lessons early today.”

She packed up as fast as she could without appearing to be as panicky as she felt. Surrounded by heretics. Not a place she would have imagined herself to be.
As she walked out of the children’s quarters and down the hall she was aware of every person around her. Few seemed to pay her any attention but she held her breath every time
someone glanced at her.

She clutched her data slate to her chest as she approached the guards at the exit. She used her training in expression control to make her face seem calm and even bored. Expressions and gestures were a large part of their training. A simple gesture could make the difference between boring and zealous.

“Leaving early?” One of the guards asked.

Her mechanical eyes shot to the las pistol at his hip.

“I’m not feeling well today and I have a great deal of work at the convent while the Order is away.”

“What ails you?”

“Headache and nausea.”

“You can’t stay until your appointed time to leave?”

She was trained to use words to sway people and she took a deep breath and let her training change her voice to one of assurance and authority.

“No, I’m afraid I have more pressing matters at the convent. The lessons will simply have to be postponed until tomorrow. If there is a problem you may call your master but unless you have taken to dictating policy regarding the Governor’s children I suggest you let me about my business.”

He quickly nodded and they let her pass.

Once out of the mansion’s walls she bolted into a run. She ran as fast as she could all the way to the convent and didn’t stop until she was at the door of Sister Irena’s quarters.
She pounded on the door while gasping for breath. She hadn’t run that hard since her days as a Novice.

There was no answer. It wasn’t her place to intrude but this was an emergency. No, this was the worst kind of emergency. The implications of everything she had learned were reeling through her mind.

The planetary governor had turned traitor. For all she knew there were already cults in place. Perhaps he was planning a rebellion. If that was the case he would surely come to wipe out every sister left in the convent.

She opened the door but found Irena’s cell empty.

Irena was one to never sit idly by while there was work to do. She would make a lousy scholar but the Emperor had seen to it that she found a vocation in which her personality could flourish.

She began jogging through the halls, looking in every door for Irena.

Then she paused when she heard a scream. At first she thought it was the Mistress torturing the Repentia as she did every day, but then she realized that the voice had been male.
She followed the sounds of the screaming down into the Castigation Cells and found Irena and the Tech Adept standing over a nude man that was lying on an Atonement Table. Blood was everywhere.

She took a deep breath and entered the stone room.

A servo skull flew over to her and buzzed around her head as she made her way to where Irena was.
Irena glanced up from the table and waved her forward.

“Sister Honoria, what brings you here? Found out anything about those symbols?”

Symbols? Oh, yes, Irena had found strange symbols vandalized into the walls of the city.

“No, not that. Something worse. Sister, I’ve just returned from the Governor’s mansion. While instructing the children one of them drew a symbol of the Chaos power of Slaanesh. She said that she had seen her father replace the Imperial Eagle with this symbol. He’s having late night parties full of vice and wickedness.”

Irena furrowed her white brows and placed her hands on her hips.

“Say that again.”

Honoria recounted her story in detail from the beginning.

When she finished she watched as Irena began pacing up and down the room. The Tech Adept remained silent and still. The woman’s red cyber eyes looked right at her and Honoria wondered what they saw.

“We need a plan, Sister,” Honoria said.

“Then it’s a good thing that I have a plan. Sophia, I need you to get that Penitent Engine up and going, now."

Part 6
Sister Thekla: Repentia

Sister Thekla sat cross legged in her Castigation Cell and meditated. She meditated on her weaknesses and how she wasn’t strong enough to be the Emperor’s weapon.
In her last battle she had personally killed three of the Eldar Corsairs but her squad had been decimated. The Canoness found no fault, but Thekla did. She could not possibly carry on as the Sister Superior of the squad.

She had to first atone for her failures. She had wasted the Emperor’s servants that would be needed at a later time. Now the entire Order was off to war and she remained here to receive her more than just punishment.

At first the Canoness had refused but eventually relented and allowed her to join the ranks of the Repentia.

Every day was a new torture to cleanse them of impurities. Like a refiners fire she would go through the burning flames of pain and come out a tempered, more lethal tool for the Emperor.
Then she heard armored boots coming down the stone hallway towards her cell. Usually it was only the one pair from the Mistress of Pain. This time there were two.
Variety was not a part of her life as a Repentia and this new situation broke her meditation.

The metal door unlocked and swung open. The Mistress stood there in full armor but without her helmet. Her white hair was pulled back into a tight tail and instead of a small fleur de lys tattoo on her cheek, she had two giant ones, one on each cheek.

“Thekla, get up,” the Mistress said.

Thekla jumped up off the ground, eager to obey.

“Not fast enough!”

One of the Mistress’s whips lashed out and struck her on the stomach. She almost bent over from the pain but ignored it. Pain was a part of her life now and she had to accept it, make it a part of her. Her faith would carry her through pain which was nothing more than a distraction to the mission she had to perform.

Then a sister she recognized from the lower ranks entered. Only she wore the gold fleur de lys of a Sister Superior. She must have been recently promoted.

“Sister Thekla? I’m Sister Irena. I was told you can drive a penitent engine.”

“I was implanted with the proper neural connectors but I have only trained with it two times, before it broke down, sister.”

“Do you think you can take it into battle?”

“I believe so.”

“Answer her with more conviction! Either you can or you can’t!” The Mistress said.

“I cannot pilot it very well, but with the Emperor’s guidance I know I can do what is asked of me.”

Sister Irena smirked. She put her hands on her hips and looked Thekla up and down. From what she remembered, Irena was an impetuous hot head that tended to act before thinking. But she was strong in the faith and never wavered.

“Fair enough. Bring her up,” Sister Irena said.

The Mistress tied her arms behind her and led her up the stairs to the repair bay where a red robed Mechanicum woman was working on the insides of a penitent engine.

“Sophia, this thing working yet?” Irena asked.

“I believe it will function as intended,” Sophia said.

The Mechanicum adept closed the covering to the engine and backed away.

Irena then flicked her wrist toward the crouched walker. The thing’s long arms were spread out as if inviting her to join it. She knew then that this was right and good. She was meant to be here.

She had been installed with the neural plugs that hooked into the Penitent Engine. She climbed in and turned it on. The clamps came down over her wrists and ankles. The bio-monitors in the clamps cut into her flesh and drew blood. Then she moved her head back to connect with the neural hook up. It was one of the many reasons her head was shorn. She was wearing nothing more than written prayers of repentance and the flesh that did show was covered in scars and cuts. Some of them earned in battle, others by penitent torture and other by her own hand when the torture wasn’t sufficient.

As the Penitent Engine came to life she felt the sensation recede from her own body and move into the machine. Then, she was the machine. The mechanical arms that ended in flamers and cutters were now hers. The double jointed, pistoned legs were now hers. And the optics that sat above each of her shoulders were now her own eyes.

Slowly she stood up. She used the long arms of the walker to brace herself as the piston legs of the Engine raised its metal body to its full height. She tested the arms, activated the giant buzz saws and then took a few trying steps. It felt as she remembered it and adjusted quickly.

“I’m capable of fighting,” she said, her voice coming from a loud speaker built into the war machine and not from her throat.

“Excellent,” Irena said.

Thekla couldn’t help but smile. With this machine of war now operational she could strike down the enemies of the Empire with more terrifying power. That is all she had ever wanted: to be an instrument in the Emperor’s hands. And now she was a more lethal instrument than ever.

*

Sister Olga Kyrinkonov. Hospitillar.

Sister Olga sat at her bio-analysis station looking into the microscope for signs of the illness that was spreading in the poor quarters of the city.
It wasn’t anything serious but she liked to keep ahead of things in case they turned for the worse. She wasn’t going to be caught by surprise like a sleeping guard.
She sat back in her seat and stretched. This wasn’t so bad. Almost everyone was gone leaving her in peace to perform her research. She helped out the civilian doctors when she had time, but mostly she was left to her own devices. They’d be gone for over a year. A year of solitude and tranquility.

Sister Irena was too preoccupied with running the convent in the Order’s absence. She’d forget about the lone Hospitillar over in the east wing.
She was fully trained to be a combat medic, but her real talents lay with sicknesses and diseases. Pathology was beautiful in its simple perfection. How many soldiers loved the lethal efficiency of their firearms? She loved the efficiency of viruses.

What she didn’t like is how they affected human beings. When the two met, terrible things happened. She admired them, but wanted to wipe them out completely. They were her enemy.
Then her door opened and Sister Irena burst in wearing full battle plate.

“Please, Sister. I’m in the middle of an important study,” Olga said, without looking up from her microscope.

“It will wait. I need you to prepare for battle.”

“Is this a training exercise? Because Cannoness Agrippina said that I was to be left alone to my work unless there was an emergency.”

“It’s an emergency. Get up.”

Olga looked up and saw the look in Irena’s eyes. She was furious about something and Olga decided that whatever it was, was serious. Also, for good or ill, Irena was in charge and it was her duty to obey.

She stood up and sighed.

“What’s the situation?” Olga asked.

“The Governor is a heretic and is secretly worshiping dark powers.”

She took a moment to process the information. Irena was always blunt, but this was staggering. She wanted to ask if she was sure but knew Irena enough to know that she never acted unless she was sure.

Her mind flew into a maelstrom of thoughts and possibilities. If the governor was corrupted, who else?

“How bad is it?” Olga asked.

“We’re sending servo skulls to scout the place out but we have to assume that he has his household guard and at least some of the garrison with him.”

“But everyone’s gone. What are we supposed to do?”

“We fight.”

“But with what?”

“We have a squad of Repentia and one working Penitent Engine. There is Sophia, the Tech Adept and Sister Honoria.”

“The Diologus? What’s she supposed to do?”

“She’ll fight the enemies of the Emperor as is her duty. Our duty.”

A handful of sisters against the Governor? This was absurd.

But what choice did they have? By the time any assistance arrived, the situation would be over one way or another. It was them or nobody. All her life she had served the Emperor by working in her lab. Now she would serve the Emperor in battle.

“Very well, Sister. We show them what traitors are to expect.”

Sister Irena smiled and smashed her armored fist into her palm.

“Go get your battle kit on. We have work to do. Meet me in the repair bay.”

“Yes, Sister.”

Irena left and with her the courage she had felt. They had to do something but their odds weren’t good.

She went to her room and put on her combat robes and habit. The only weapon she had was her bolt pistol. She had a feeling that that wouldn’t be adequate. Once fully armored she stopped by the armory before proceeding to the repair bay. She continued to chant the litany of strength the entire time.

She needed that strength now. With all her soul she wanted to serve the Emperor, even if it meant her death, but she didn’t want to die here because her work was too important. She would best serve the emperor if alive.

However, she had to remember that all things came down to His will, not hers.

The armory was desolate and only a few weapons were left. One thing caught her eye: a heavy bolter with two drums of ammunition. But her power armor lacked the additional reinforcements to use the heavy weapon effectively. Without the specialized power armor, the recoil would throw her shots off to the point that it would be useless.
There was a rack of bolt pistols, a few scattered bolters, a chain sword, and a bolter with an underbarrel single shot plasma gun. She passed all of those by when she saw on the far side of the room a solitary flamer with four full canisters of fuel.

She picked it up and checked its functionality. She opened it up and saw it was all still oiled with no rust or corrosion. Perfect working order. She snapped it closed, attached a canister of fuel and headed out to the repair bay.

Next, she went to her cell where her power armor stood in its alcove. She hadn’t worn it in years and never thought she have to wear it again. But, the Emperor put her here for a reason and today her reason was to smite the enemy.

When she arrived she saw Irena talking to a Tech Adept in red robes and several servo arms. Honoria was wearing power armor beneath her black robes and she held her Laud Hailer like a bishop’s staff. She had two bolt pistols, one on each hip.

Eight Sisters Repentia stood off to the side with their shaved heads, cowls and dressed in rags. The Mistress stood with her arms folded and her neural whips coiled at her sides. In the middle of the room was the enormous Penitent Engine with a sister already strapped in.

“We’re all here,” Irena said.

Olga walked over to a table and sat down on the edge of it. She brushed her long robes out of the way and got comfortable.

“We all know the situation,” Irena said. “Today will test our faith like never before. We’re sorely outnumbered but if we put our faith in the Emperor, our enemies will be destroyed. Our servo skull scouts have shown that there are only the normal amount of guards, their loyalties are questionable. If they show the slightest resistance to our entering, shoot them.

“Then we go in and declare the Governor under arrest, and by that I mean we shoot him on sight.”

“Doesn’t he have to stand trial?” Sister Honoria asked.

“If there was a higher authority, perhaps. But I’m in charge and I don’t have the authority to try anyone. But I can execute.”

“What are we waiting for?” The Mistress asked.

“Night. I want them to be asleep when we come. Mistress, I want your Repentia to go ahead of us, silently kill any guards that stand up to you and secure the front gate. We will enter followed by the Engine.”

“Isn’t there anyone else we can ask for assistance?” Honoria asked.

“The planetary militia is under his control. If we ask them, they’ll alert the Governor. We also don’t know how far this corruption has spread. They may have turned traitor as well.”

Olga held up her hand.

“Yes, Sister Olga.”

“I have a suggestion. In the medical bay I have two canisters of pain nutrilizer. It’s the gas we use to put people under for surgery. They might make good grenades.”
Irena nodded.

“Excellent. Take whatever you can. Make no mistake my Sisters. We will be outnumbered by no small margin. We have to use every weapon in our arsenal or we will not prevail.

However, faith in the Emperor is our greatest weapon. Never forget that.”

“For the Emperor!” the Mistress shouted out.

“For the Emperor!” they all said in unison.

Part 7
Sister Irena

Irena looked over the repair bay at the small force she had assembled. It wasn’t much but with the Emperor’s aid it would be enough. She had to leave a few gun servitor’s at the convent and the ten that came with her were a much needed boost.

Sister Olga was handing out her gas canisters, Sophia was doing some last minute tune ups on the Penitent Engine and Honoria was waiting around like a caged animal.
The Mistress approached and took off her helmet. She was a small woman that looked like she had more energy than her body could handle. She had wide, furious eyes and looked ready to deal out punishment to anyone and anything.

That was good because that was exactly what they were going to do.

“Are we going to win?” The Mistress asked.

“Of course. But our survival I can’t guarantee.”

The Mistress gave a half smile.

“Survival isn’t necessary. Their deaths are.”

Her thoughts exactly except that one of them had to survive. They had to get to the astropath in the palace to send out a message. Unless the astropath was corrupted as well, then the best they could hope for was an in-system-only distress beacon.

Irena walked over to check on the Tech Priestess.

“How’s the engine looking?” She asked.

“Functionality is restored for the time. I lack the required parts to make the repair permanent but it will be sufficient for our needs.”

“Excellent. I’m sure you’ll do the Emperor proud as well. You handled yourself with some skill the other night.”

“I do what I must for the Omnisiah.”

“I’m going to assume you mean the Emperor with that.”

When it was time, they left the convent and moved along side streets. The Penitent Engine barely fit through the narrow lanes and there was no way to quiet it or the mindless servitors that followed. The servitors were all armed with heavy bolters except for one which had a multi melta. She prayed that they wouldn’t come across anything that required its armor penetration.
Their column reached the Ciel district and crept along a side street between the mansions of the aristocracy. A household guard came out to see what was going on and she stuck her plasma pistol in his face and told him to stay silent and not tell anyone what he saw. He readily agreed.

Then they came within sight of the governor’s mansion. It had a short but thick wall around it with four guards at the entrance. They wore bright red and blue uniforms that were for impressing people and not for combat. Their autoguns looked spotless which meant they weren’t used. These guards were show and nothing else.

Irena nodded to the Mistress and the Mistress pointed to her Repentia. She used hand gestures to tell the wild eyed Repentia to move forward and take the guards out without making a noise.

She watched as the Repentia moved in the shadows along the wall. They wore rags and scraps of armor and little else. They held their two handed Eviscorator chainswords but kept them off to keep them silent.

The Repentia moved slow and Irena admired their skill. Those poor lost souls were on the pilgrim’s path to absolution. One way or another they would find their way back into the Emperor’s grace. Either through death or through merit, they would return.

Like a coiled snake the Repentia struck. They leapt out of the shadows and bashed the four guards to death with their deactivated Eviscorators. It was quick and brutal. They dragged the bodies into the shadows and waited. They watched and listened to make sure no alarm was sounded.

Once sure the way was clear, the rest of the force passed through the gate and into the main courtyard of the governor’s palace.
She waved for Sister Honoria to come forward.

“If the governor is awake, where would he be?”

“I heard that his parties were usually in the subterranean floors, but I’ve never been down there.”

Honoria pointed to a small access ramp on the side of the house that lead down to the basement. It was probably for offloading cargo.
They made their way to the ramp and saw that despite the spaciousness of the ramp, it only had a small door leading inside.

The Penitent Engine would have to wait outside.

Everything was told through hand gestures. When told to wait outside, the towering Penitent Engine dropped to its knees to try to minimize being spotted.
With that, Irena opened the door and led her small group inside. Her helmet’s low-light vision saw along hallway with utilitarian doors lining each side. At the end was a larger door that had a computer lock.

Irena pointed at the Tech Priestess and then at the lock.

Sophia used one of her mechadendrites to connect to the lock and had it open in a second.
Irena went first. Inside was a balcony that overlooked a theater of some kind. On the stage was the governor and several other nobles. They wore robes with the crude circle symbol with the three lines through it.

There was an alter on the stage that was covered in blood and two dead bodies lay beside it. Robbed men brought out a nude man and chained him to the alter as the governor read from a leather bound book. It was a language she didn’t recognize.

“Colchisian,” Honoria whispered.

Irena had no idea what that meant and ignored it. It wasn’t important. What was important was that the room had at least a hundred people in it and many of them were wearing armor of the planetary militia.

Irena pointed to the Hospitilar and Olga passed out her gas canisters. After taking a moment to put on their respirators, they opened up the valves and threw the gas canisters over the edge of the balcony and into the crowd below.

Screams erupted from the crowd. The gas wouldn’t get all of them. She waited the five seconds it took for the gas to take affect.
“Now!” Irena screamed out.

And with that, the women and servitors with her came out from behind cover of the balcony and opened fire. She fired her plasma pistol at anyone that looked like they could be military. The unarmed civilian traitors could be dealt with at any time.

Next to her, the Tech Priestess was laying down a savage wall of energy as her multi laser opened up on the cultists.
The heavy concussions of the servitor’s heavy bolters slammed against her helmet.

The crowd below was scrambling to the exits which created nice choke points to concentrate their fire. A few of the militia returned fire and heavy bolter rounds blew them apart.
Irena’s attention turned back to the stage. The governor was crawling to the alter with a knife in his hand. Her pistol couldn’t reach that far and the servitors didn’t have the control to pinpoint the governor without hitting the civilian.

“Sophia, can you hit the governor?”

Sophia’s metal skull-like face turned to the stage.

The governor was already behind the alter and couldn’t be hit.

“I will try,” Sophia said in her monotone voice.

The six barreled laser pointed to the stage and waited.

The governor reared up and plunged the knife into the man’s chest as Sophia’s shot blew the back of the governor’s head out.
He fell back with a smile on his face.

Irena had hoped for the pleasure of killing the traitor herself, but it was not her will, but His.

Then something began to happen. A purple light began to fill the theater, a light without an apparent source.

“What’s going on?” Honoria asked.

“Let’s get down there,” Irena said.

They ran down the stairs to their left and came out on the ground floor of the theater. The dead bodies of the audience covered the ground. A few still moaned. She kicked one in the face with her armored boot as she passed by.

The purple light began to coalesce on the stage. Whatever the Governor had done was working.

“Weapons ready!” Irena shouted.

Shapes emerged from the glowing purple light. They were slender and moved with the grace and strength of great cats.
They had the vague forms of women, but their faces were hideous and instead of hands they had inhuman claws that stretched out like curved swords.

Demon spawn.

“Fire!”

The servitors opened fire and their bolts tore into the she-demons making the creatures scream with pain and delight.

Despite the deluge of firepower aimed at them, some of them managed to avoid being hit and charged forward.

Irena took an aimed shot and hit one in the head, making the creature topple forward and burst into purple fire. Another demon jumped onto one of the servitors and rammed its claw through its chest.

“Repentia, forward!” The Mistress cried out.

The auditorium filled with the sounds of revving Eviscerators as the Repentia charged forward. Instantly the room was a maelstrom of clashing Repentia and demons. Irena saw one Repentia cleave a she-demon right down the middle.

Then a demon pounced on her, knocking her to the ground. The slender creature was shrieking into her face as its tongue licked her helmet. The thing then reared its claw to deliver the killing blow.

Irena punched it in the face with the butt of her chainsword, knocking it off. She scrambled to her feet in time to meet the demon’s charge. Her chainsword connected with the long crab-claw of the demon.

To each side of her servitors fell to the demons. The Repentia were holding their own and Diologus Honoria was firing away with her pistol while reciting litanies through her vox amplifier.
Olga was tending to a wounded Repentia and Sophia blasted a demon apart with her melta gun.
They weren’t losing but they definitely weren’t winning.

Irena knocked the demon off balance with a push of her chainsword and then with one smooth motion, brought the sword down on the demon’s neck.
Then she saw something else emerge from the portal. It was a hulking figure easily more massive than an Astartes.

What emerged was the massive form of a red suit of terminator armor that had been twisted and corrupted. Every surface of red and brass armor was covered in unholy runes. Parchments of blasphemous prayers trailed off it like streaming water. A book was chained to its shoulder and merely looking at it gave her a sickening headache.
This was a traitor Astartes.

“Word Bearer!” Honoria gasped.

In one hand the brute carried a giant glowing axe. The other held some kind of triple barreled bolter with chain-linked ammo hanging from it. Pikes with impaled heads adorned its back. The unhelmeted face that looked out at her was shaven and covered in runic tattoos.

Now the situation had gone from terrible to catastrophic. She had seen the power of the Astartes while on campaign. She had seen a single Imperial Fist warrior kill ten rebel Imperial Guard by himself. And this heretic was in nearly invincible terminator armor. What was she supposed to do?

“Emperor, guide me.”

Holy s**t - this is actually epic. Great work man, looking forward to the next bit

And then what happened? You can't stop it here!

Glad you like it. The next part should be up tomorrow.

Part 8


Irena raised her plasma pistol at the traitor terminator and fired. Her visor filtered out the blinding flash of her shot. The energy hit the heretic’s shoulder, blowing off the brass symbol that had been etched there.

The Word Bearer raised an eyebrow as if considering her and then raised his monstrous three-barreled weapon.

Irena leapt out of the way as bolter rounds tore up the stone where she had been standing just a moment before. One of the heretic’s rounds struck a she-demon and blew out its chest. The thing screeched as it burst into flames and vanished.

She rolled and came up on her feet. She fired again. Direct hit in the chest. There was a flash of blinding light and some flames as one of the blasphemous parchments disintegrated in a burst of flame.

The heretic terminator walked through the smoke caused by her shot and emerged unscathed. His axe exploded with unnatural purple light.

“A servant of the False Emperor. You give your loyalty to a corpse. Come with me and I’ll show you deities worthy of worship,” the heretic said in an accent she had never heard before.
She fired again, blowing two of his back pikes completely off. A red warning light on her pistol told her it was getting dangerously overheated. All she had left was the chain sword which before had given her courage and comfort. Now it seemed like a sad joke next to the traitor Astartes.

But if a chainsword was all she had, then she would fail.

But she had a weapon greater than any blade or gun.

“I have the Emperor watching over me, heretic. He will see you burn for this blasphemy.”

The heretic actually smiled and shook his head.

“You’re so willfully blind that I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. In all my years I’ve never turned a Sororitas to our glorious cause. I think I will make you my first.”
Irena had no desire to continue talking with this apostate.

She charged the hulking warrior and screamed as she swung her chainsword.

The heretic moved surprisingly fast in his terminator armor and knocked her blow aside with his axe. He shoved his tri-barreled monstrosity toward her and she twisted away just as if fired. The muzzle blast smacked her helmet like a punch but she was alive.

She brought the chainsword down on the weapon. The adamantine teeth only scratched the gun but she managed to sever the chain-linked ammo belts.
Then the glowing axe slashed at her and knocked the chainsword out of her hand.

“Damn it!”

She’d prayer for forgiveness for her vulgar language latter.

The Word Bearer charged. If she could get her pistol to his head it would be all over. No genetic manipulation could save him from a plasma bolt to the face.
She dodged his obvious axe blow and raised her weapon.

Then what felt like a Rhino going full speed crashed into her. His giant gun smashed her shoulder and knocked her against a black stone pillar.
It took a moment to get her breath back and in that moment the heretic was on top of her. His giant hand clamped down on her neck and lifted her up to eye level.
Just where she wanted to be.

“I will have such delights with you. When I see your faith waver and break I’ll have achieved my greatest victory. Your faith is no protection from me.”

“And you should have worn a helmet.”

She shoved the pistol toward his face and time slowed down. He roared and threw her as she squeezed the trigger. It was her moment of victory.

But the Emperor had deemed it not to be.

The plasma pistol exploded in her hand. Her black armor and cybernetic hand shattered into melted fragments. From the elbow down her arm was just scorched and twisted metal.
She landed on her back, cracking the stone beneath her. Her HUD read-out in her helmet told her the damage she already saw for herself. She blinked the damage read-out to a minimized glyph and tried to stand up. Smoke was everywhere. Some of it was coming off of her.

The heretic clutched his face where she saw a red and black mess where half his face had been.

“You will die, Emperor’s whore!” the traitor Astartes shouted.

He raised the hand that once held the gun and blue and yellow light swirled around it.

A sorcerer. This brute wielded infernal warp powers. He had weapons beyond anything she had. Without her pistol and sword she had nothing. She looked around the ground for a discarded autogun or shotgun. Anything would do.

Nothing.

There was nothing standing in the way of this heretic except the Emperor’s Will.

So, she used her greatest weapon and kneeled down where she was, made the sign of the Aquila and prayed.

Her eyes were closed as she pleaded for Divine Judgement on the traitor. She did not pray to save herself, only that this heretic died.
She could hear the massive footfalls of the terminator as it walked closer.

“There’s no hope for you, little whore. Your Emperor will not save you.”

She opened an eye and saw the enormous form of the Astartes looming over her like an unholy cathedral.

“The Emperor Protects,” Irena said.

The Word Bearer smirked and raised his axe.

Then the wall where the balcony was exploded in a shower of dust and flying stone. Buzz saws and flames erupted from the cloud of debris as the Penitent Engine burst out of the wall and landed on the ground floor, crushing wooden benches beneath its three toed feet.

The sister strapped to the front gritted her teeth as the Engine sent waves of purifying pain through her body. The Engine nearly filled the auditorium. She had never appreciated how truly powerful a machine it really was. A she-demon ran at it and with one lazy swing of its lanky arm, shredded the demon in half.

“There’s my Emperor, traitor,” Irena said.

The sister pilot turned her blindfolded head toward the sorcerer and the raised the long arm of the engine. The blades revved as it charged forward, spurting flames all over heretic.

The Word Bearer roared and swung his glowing axe with both hands while charging through the wall of flame. The axe blocked one of the Engine’s roaring blades but the other arm came in and crashed against the traitor’s massive shoulder, ripping it off the terminator armor in a shower of metal and sparks.

A glowing ball of black energy formed in the Traitor’s hand and black mist shot out enveloping the Engine’s left arm. The smoke acted like tentacles, crushing the arm. Sparks shot out and the driver let out a terrifying shriek of pain.

The Engine’s other arm came down on the terminator’s top armor. The roaring blade dug into the armor as the traitor swung his axe again, burring it deep into the side of the engine’s chassis. Sparks and flames erupted from the severed cabling.

The traitor swung again, hitting the leg at the knee. The axe cut clean through the armor and into the joint. The Engine fell to its knee and swung its good arm again. The heretic brought his axe up to deflect the blow and the screaming blade cut through the axe and the traitor’s arm. The severed hand still clinging to the axe flew across the room and struck the wall.
The heretic shouted something in that mind hurting language of his and red energy formed around his good hand. He struck his hand out and red lightning shot out, hitting the Engine at the waist, blowing the upper chassis from its legs in a ball of twisted metal and fire. The damaged arm exploded as the red lightning tore into it.

The entire Engine crashed to the ground in a cloud of smoke and sparks. Flames burst out of the Engine’s back and the smoke filled the room.

“Where’s your corpse Emperor now?” The heretic asked.

He turned his head toward her and then raised his remaining hand.

“All things according to his Will,” Irena said.

She looked around the room and saw that most of the she-demons were gone. Several of the Repentia lay bleeding on the ground and the others were still fighting the demons that were left. One of Sophia’s servo arms lay on the ground and she held one demon with a servo claw by the neck. Honoria had lost her Vox staff and was holding her bolt pistol in both hands. Olga was tending to a wounded Repentia and the Mistress was strangling a demon with a whip while her foot was on its back.

Irena had no weapons and only one arm. There had to be something. Even a rock would do.

She grabbed a chunk of loose stone and flung it at the Traitor. He didn’t even acknowledge it as it hit his scorched chest. She wasn’t dying without a fight. Perhaps her sisters would avenge her death. She hoped Sophia’s multi-laser was still working. They’d need it in a few moments.

The Word Bearer stepped toward her.

“You will know the true meaning of despair. You will feel the nothingness that you really are compared to the dark powers that govern the universe. And once you embrace the glory, I will send you out to kill the whores you once called sisters.”

She held her gold Aquila in her good hand and prayed for victory.

“All things are to thine will,” she whispered.

Then a small shape emerged from the flaming wreckage of the Penitent Engine. It was Sister Thekla, the Engine’s driver.

She was miraculously untouched by the fire and in her hand was one of the Repentia’s discarded Eviscerators. Her eyes were wild and her shaven head was covered in splattered blood and ash.

Thekla raised the enormous two-handed chainsword above her head and brought it down on the open gash her Engine had created. The massive weapon dug into the torn armor and knocked the heretic forward, making him stumble.

Thekla screamed and dug the sword in deeper. The teeth whirled and buried itself into the back of the terminator armor. She continued to shriek and pushed the sword further with all her strength.

Black energy pored out of the traitor’s eyes like smoke as he roared and tried to turn around.

Then blood gushed out of the torn armor as the Eviscerator found the Marine’s flesh underneath. The traitor’s eyes went wide as Thekla kept shoving the giant sword deeper and deeper.
The light faded from his hand and eyes. The now human looking eyes turned up and his jaw went slack.

Thekla let go of the sword and let the Traitor fall forward onto his face. She was panting and staring down at the armored giant at her feet.
Irena ran over to her and checked for wounds. She had a few minor scratches but was unharmed.

“By the Emperor’s Divine Will,” Irena muttered.

“The Emperor willed this traitor’s death,” Theckla said between gasps for breath.

Irena turned to the others and saw them put down the last of the demons. Sophia’s drill arm rammed into the chest of the she-demon and her one remaining servo arm pushed the dead demon off.

They looked around for survivors and summarily executed any traitors that still lived. She had Sophia cut the Governor’s head off so she could mount it on the gate of the convent.
“What should we do about all this?” Honoria asked and waved her hand at the hundreds of bodies.

“We cleanse it with fire,” Irena said.

Sophia called in her fellow Mechanicus adepts and secured the palace. Irena then called the Militia and asked to speak to whoever was in charge. He claimed innocence but that wouldn’t stop her from launching a full investigation. She would root out any trace of heresy in the militia even if it took her the entire year to do so.
“Your arm is down to zero percent functionality, Sister Axilla,” Sophia said.

Irena looked down at her ruined arm.

“So it is.”

“Let me take you back to the workshop so I may replace it.”

“I don’t have time for trivial repairs. There may be heresy out there.”

“I can’t believe we lived through that,” Honoria said.

She had found her Vox amplifier and was leaning on it.

“Three of my Repentia lived. That’s more than I would have thought,” the Mistress said. Her helmet had been knocked off and her white hair was coated in someone else’s blood. She had a large smile on her face.

Irena turned to Sister Thekla.

“That was a miracle, Sister Thekla,” Irena said.

“I only did what I had to,” Thekla said.

“Miracle or not, she’s still a Repentia. And until the Canoness returns to verify the veracity of the miracle, she’s still under my lash,” the Mistress said.

It was true. None of them had the authority to declare miracles. Thekla would have to wait for the Order to return.

But Irena knew what she saw. The Emperor had watched over them and despite all odds, they had come out victorious. The Emperor had manifested His Will through the humble Repentia. The Engine had been a tool of His Divine Judgment. She would always follow His Will and seek out the enemies of the Empire.

Well done! Bravo!

I take my hat off to you sir, an thoroughly engaging and entertaining short - nice one.

Well that was a fun read, though I must nitpick that I read Empire and not Imperium several times. Just a minor heresy

 mrwhoop wrote:
Well that was a fun read, though I must nitpick that I read Empire and not Imperium several times. Just a minor heresy

I figured its a local dialect.

Started reading it to spend some time, one part later and I was stuck....

I absolutely loved the parts seen from Tech Priestess Sophia point of view!

I think Mechanicum characters have a wealth of fascinating ideas to draw from. I loved writing Sophia.

Please sir, more? *holds up empty bowl*

Holy gak, this was great! Bravo indeed. I'l be looking for your next story. :thumbsups:

Ignore post.

Bloody good story! You really captured the characters of the Sisters well.

Also, the trash talk from the Word Bearer was nicely done. Made it that much more satisfying when he was purged.

 Troike wrote:
Bloody good story! You really captured the characters of the Sisters well.

Also, the trash talk from the Word Bearer was nicely donw. Made it that much more satisfying when he was purged.

How can you have Word Bearers and Sisters fight and NOT trash talk? That's more important to them than the actual fighting.

My First post here after being here for years - and WOW - Awesome read - thank you

drizzcat wrote:
My First post here after being here for years - and WOW - Awesome read - thank you

Awesome. Thanks. Glad you liked it. And brought you out of hiding to boot!

Really enjoyed that - thanks for sharing

This was glorius! More of similar works of wonder please

I'm currently planning Part 2. Cannoness Helena returns and they'll have a new enemy.

If it has anything as hardcore as a Mistress strangling a Daemonette to death, than I look forward to it!

Book 2

Verse 1.


Sister Irena had been surprised by the promotion to Celestian and assigned to Canoness Helena’s own command squad. She hadn’t sought it out and she didn’t really want it. It was a sin to noy accept gladly that which is given by her superiors, but she couldn’t help it. As the canoness’s body guard she wouldn’t be in the front, leading her sisters into combat.

The new gold trimming along her pauldrons and grieves weren’t comforting like the gold fleur de lys on her helmet had been.

The rest of the Order were still stowing their equipment and taking inventory after the year long campaign and the convent was now alive again with her fellow sisters.

Techpriestess Sophia had captured most of the battle from one of her degenerate camera eyes and some of her fight with the Word Bearer was on the footage. That in itself had earned her the personal praise of Canoness Helena. But it was her investigation and unceasing sense of duty that had gotten her the promotion.

“Few others would have sought out heresy like you did,” Canoness Helena had said.

She wasn’t sure she believed it. Any of her sisters would have done the same.

Irena couldn’t quite explain why, but looking at the new gold on her armor made her feel like she had lost something.

Thekla’s intervention and slaying of the heretic hadn’t been declared a miracle, but it had freed her of the Repentia’s holy torment. She hadn’t heard anything else of Thekla but hoped to see her again for she was the embodiment of what an Adepta Sororitas should strive to be.

When Canoness Helena had returned, she had gone through a full seven hour debriefing of everything that had transpired since the Order had departed. Canoness Helena had been surprised when the Mechanicum had answered her hails from orbit instead of the planetary governor.

It had taken a long time to explain.

Irena put on her sacred power armor, tucked her helmet under her arm and left her cell for the Canoness’s office. Everywhere she went she saw fellow Sisters running about, busy with all the work that went into the post-campaign re-organization.

Already she was getting looks of wide eyes and deferential bows. She didn’t want their admiration. All glory went to the Emperor, she had done very little but play a minor part.
She approached the Canoness’s office door where two other Celestian’s (most likely her new squadmates) stood guard. The door was wide open and the Canoness was inside issuing orders faster than Honoria could transcribe them.

“I don’t care what the Astropaths say. Storm or no, get them to contact Earth and ask them to send a new governor. I have no time to run a planet and a convent. If they weren’t heretics, I’d get the Mechanicum to take over.”

Several other sisters in robes were rushing about and putting the office back to its usual state, covered in scrolls, holy books and data slats about equipment and tactics. Her personal ornate combi-bolter hung on its usual space on the wall. The flamer under the bolter barrel had a new scar on it. On her hip was her Inferno pistol that had been passed down from Canoness to Canoness since the order was founded.

Canoness Helena looked up from her desk where amber holo screens floated with dozens of lists of equipment and personal.

She waved her in with a casual gesture. Her white hair had black streaks in it and hung down to her shoulders.

She caught Honoria’s eye and they gave each other a nod of respect. For a scribe she had shown her faith and zeal for the Emperor. She was also a better shot with a bolt pistol than she would have guessed. Marksmanship was always a good sign of character.

“Irena, glad you’re here. I have an assignment for you.”

“Of course, Canoness.”

Cns. Helena pointed to the corner of the room where a lone figure sat on a simple wooden chair. It was Sister Thekla in full power armor. It was odd to see a Sister with a shorn head instead of the regulation haircut that made them all equals under the watchful eyes of the Emperor. But the lapse in uniform was more than understandable.

Irena had to contain her smile. Thekla was out of the suicidal Repentia squad and though an honor, it wasn’t what Thekla was born for. After what she witnessed in the governor’s basement, she knew Thekla was meant for something far more.

“Irena, meet the third member of the Celestian squad. The two outside are the others. You’re in charge. Train them and organize them as you see fit. Sister Diologus Honoria and Hospitlar Olga will also be under your authority when on campaign.”

“Yes, Canoness.”

“Go to the armory and get Thekla sorted out.”

Cns. Helena went back to reading the numerous lists and giving orders to the other sisters.

Sister Rosia walked in, still in her full Saraphim jump armor. The silver designs worked into her armor reflected every ounce of light in the room. On the battle field they wanted to shine like the Emperor’s Truth to the enemies.

“Cannoness, I’ve spoken personally with the Astro Choir and they assure me that the storm prevents any and all communication outside the system.”

“Damnit, Rosia. Did they at least give us an estimate on how long this storm will last?”

“They don’t have a clue. They said they’d never seen anything like it.”

Irena wanted to stay and listen, but she had her orders.

She pointed to Thekla and flicked her hand to motion her to follow.

Thekla jumped up and hurried after her.

She nodded to the other two Celestians as she left. She’d have to look at their files before she did a formal meeting with them.

“Celestian, huh? That’s better than a Repentia,” Irena said.

“I don’t deserve this,” Thekla said.

Irena sighed. Why was it that whenever she had to lecture someone, it was always about the very issue that she herself struggled with.

“It’s not our place to question our assignments. To do so is questioning the Emperor’s Will. All we do is accept and perform our duties with every ounce of strength within us.”
“Of course, Superior Irena.”

“I mean it, that’s not some chanted lecture. We both know what happened at the palace. It was a miracle. For a brief moment we were a part of the Divine Will. We must always feel like that and no matter how small or great the task, we rise up and do it.”

“Yes, Superior Irena.”

“Now, what weapons are you best with? As the Canoness’s personal bodyguard we get to choose the weapons of our squad. Obviously some missions will require different weapon loadouts, but I think we need to specialize together. Unity in force is the answer.”

“I…I’m good with the Eviscerator.”

Thekla still had her Repentia Eviscerator on her back.

“Of course, but no one else is. Anything else?”

“Chain sword. Bolt pistol.”

That made sense. She used to be a Superior as well.

Weapons for close combat. That made sense. If something got close enough to the Canoness, then it would probably be down to sword and fist by then. But Irena's mind still went another direction. She liked to put her focus on big guns. Bigger the better.

She looked down to the plasma pistol at her hip. Canoness Helena had given her a new one. It had bee powerful and had almost killed the Word Bearer, but it had also blown off her own hand.

The new hand that Sophia had given her was better than the old one. It was more responsive and stronger. Both were things she approved of.

Then someone came from around the corner. It was Mistress Teressa, the Mistress that had fought the demons below the palace. The fierce woman smiled with a look of genuine gladness and also predatory hunger.

“Sister Irena, Thekla. Good to see you again.”

She smiled, showing her metal teeth. Some had been knocked out by a demon’s headbut.

“Mistress. I understand you have more Repentia recruites,” Irena said.

Teressa’s smile grew even bigger.

“Indeed I do. Apparently some mistakes were made in the campaign. Though I do confess that I mess Thekla under my lash. Her screams were more beautiful than any choir. But, her path leads her away and on to other things. Shame. What could be more glorious than dying for the Emperor?”

“Killing His enemies,” Irena said.

“One and the same. Well, I won’t stay and argue semantics. The Canoness has me doing a hundred things at once.”

Teressa saluted and went on her way.

She liked Teressa’s fire and would be proud to fight alone side her at any time.

As they continued to walk towards the armory she kept sneaking glances at Thekla, looking for any sign of the Divine Will within her. She saw a woman that was all muscle and sinew with what must have been hundreds of tiny cuts all over her face. Some older cuts were barely visible shimmers and some were red and fresh.

Once at the armory she looked through the now filled racks of weapons. Her gauntleted hand caressed the a multi-melta and then brushed over a heavy flamer. Both were lethal weapons, but not what she wanted for the Canoness’s body guard.

“Thekla, how are you with the heavy bolter?”

“I’ve trained on it.”

“I guess you’ll be training on it some more.”

Irena went over to the armeror who was hunched over an open bolter. She had a small hammer and a long rod and was tapping away at something inside the bolter’s trigger mechanism.

“I need three celestians fitted for the heavy weapon exo-structures,” Irena said.

“Fit them yourself. The manual’s on the data slate on top the crates.”

Without looking the armeror pointed the hammer to a stack of duraplas crates in the corner.

Irena went to the cases and picked up the slate.

“Looks like we have some training to do,” Irena said.

She knew enough about them from her brief time as a Retributer Squad Superior to know how they worked. She tossed the slate aside.
“Get over here and let’s get you fitted up.”

It took a half hour to attach the exo-structure to Thekla’s left arm. The power cords had to connect to her power pack and the frame had to attach to the armor in just the right way. Where was that heretic techpriestess when she needed her? The left arm was the load bearing arm for the heavy weapon and would keep it stable as it fired. Astartes didn’t need such extra add-ons but they also lacked true faith in the Emperor, so they were still behind in ability.

“Test it. How does it feel?”

Thekla moved her arm around and picked up one of the crates with one hand.

“It feels good.”

“Now choose a heavy bolter. Don’t just choose any for this weapon will be your partner and comrade. It will be the only brother you will ever have.”

Thekla went to the rack of heavy bolters and began looking over them. All heavy bolters were the same but she wanted Thekla to feel the importance of bonding with her weapon and becoming one.

While Thekla looked over the heavy bolters and drums, Irena went over to the sword wall. Most were chain swords with a few eviscerators. But her eyes went over to the power mauls. Over the years the Order had gained several patterns of mauls. Most were simple instruments of war with straight, none-decorative shafts and round utilitarian heads.

That wasn’t what she wanted. She needed something to show that she was the canoness’s body guard. She didn’t want the position but if she had to be here she was going to do her damndest to do the position proud.

After her fight with the Word Bearer in terminator armor, she never wanted to be underarmed again. She'd be prepared for the worst case scenario.

With more ceremony than Irena usually showed, she put her chain sword back on the rack and picked up a power maul that was hidden off to the side. This one had gold ivy designs running up the shaft and the head was decorated with gold double headed eagles. He parchment below the weapon had a brief description of its history. It had once belonged to an Imperial Guard commander. His planet was invaded by greenskins and he was holding a hopeless position. It was the Order of the Penitent Lady that came and purged the xenos filth from his planet. In gratitude he gave his family power maul to the Order. That had been three hundred years ago.

Irena figured it was time to put the weapon to use. It felt good in her hands, like it was made to fit her. It was also a thing of matchless beauty. Fools wrote songs of love to pretty girls and flowers. They had no idea the true beauty of a well crafted weapon in perfect function. No poem or ballad could ever match that.

After all, this wasn’t a typical front line combat position. She’d be representing the Canoness and Canoness Helena deserved every ounce of respect and honor she could give. She had seen the woman in combat too many times to doubt her skill and faith. She needed a weapon fit for the task.

The armeror made her fill out four different parchments for the weapon and three for Thekla, one for the ammo, one for the heavy bolter and one for the exo-structure.

“Okay, Sister Thekla, take care of that weapon. Treat it like you would a gift from the Emperor, for that is exactly what it is. Clean it every day. Sing Hymns to it. Keep it in your prayers.”

“Yes, Sister Irena.”

“And another thing…”

She didn’t get to finish that sentence.

A siren blared with the loud and distant wailing like a mother that had just lost her child.

“Call to arms,” Thekla said.

“Now’s no time for a drill,” Irena said.

Perhaps that was why they had sprung the drill, because it wasn’t expected.

But her training kicked in and she tore down the halls with her robes flailing around her toward the office of Canoness Helena.
Teresa and the two other Celestians were there along with a crowd of other superiors.

“Are you sure of the number?” Helena said into a comm-set.

The room went silent.

Irena knew immediately that this was no drill. She had seen these faces before and knew they meant the real thing.

“Very well. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Helena placed the hand set back down with the calm and ease of a priest laying hands on a child to bless them.

“We have the reason for the warp interference,” Helena said. “A ship bearing the IFF signature of an ex-Imperial warship has appeared in system. The satellite relay identified it as the “Lux
Divina,” a ship of the Word Bearers legion.”

The room remained silent but the sister superiors around her exchanged glances.

Irena felt her insides grow cold. It could be no coincidence that the Word Bearers were here. It had to do something with the heretic she had fought and Thekla killed. The brute she had fought had been inhumanely powerful. She didn't know if the planetary defense force was up to the task at all. Of course, the Order was, but they knew what true faith was.

“We have seven hours before they reach orbit and in that time I want everyone prepped and ready to go upon my return. I want everyone carrying as much ammo and med-kits as they can carry. Store every essential supply in the bomb shelter below.

“I’ve never fought Word Bearers before, but I do know one thing; they love to make dramatic entrances and usually that means many deaths. Be prepared for the worst.”

Canoness Helena went over to the wall and picked up her battle scared combi-bolter.

“I fear what happened with the governor was just the prelude. Pray to the Emperor, my sisters and keep your bolters ready.”
With that, Canoness Helena marched out of the room with her newly assembled body guard trailing behind her.

verse 2

Canoness Helena climbed into the back of the Rhino and hit the driver’s compartment to tell them to seal the hatch. With her bodyguard inside the hatch closed up and for a moment they were in total darkness until the dim, red light of the interior turned on.

Thekla had her heavy bolter cradled barrel down between her legs. The other two Celestians had storm bolters. Irena wasn’t a big proponent of the storm bolter. As soon as they were able she’d want them to switch to flamers or something else more suited to last stand, maximum carnage. If she could she’d want them all with heavy bolters.

The Rhino rumbled to life and was soon on its way out of the convent toward the Mechanicum factorum where the orbital relays were. They controlled the eyes toward the sky.

“Canoness, I think you should take a look at this. Open the top hatch,” the driver’s voice came over the intercom.

Irena jumped up so the Canoness wouldn’t have to open the hatch herself.

When she threw the hatch open what greeted her was more horrible than anything she could have imagined. The night sky was covered in a slowly twisting purple light that bled unreality.
A warp storm had broken through the fabric of the universe.

Canoness Helena stood beside her and looked up into the terrible night sky. Her jaw tightened but she said nothing. Her white hair blew around her elfin face that somehow untouched by the scars of battle. She still looked too young to be a Canoness, but judging Canoness Helena by her looks was a mistake. No one could take her in the practice ring and she had seen many heretics and xenos die by her hand.

Helena looked at her and for a moment Irena saw the true depth of age behind her cold stare. The Canoness saw the warp storm and was not afraid. The fur collar of her ancient cloak wrapped around her like a blanket and Irena knew that Helena held no fear what lay ahead.

“The Emperor protects,” Helena said.

“The Emperor protects,” she answered. But somewhere out there was a battleship full of traitor Astartes gunning right for them. “But what will we do?”

“Simple, Irena, we purge them all.”

A slight smile curled the corners of Helena’s mouth.

They drove through the city where shop keepers were putting down storm shutters and closing for the day. Civilians hurried to their houses. They feared what was coming.
The two of them stayed up in the hatch, watching the twisting light far above them and feeling the cool night air whip around them.

They reached the giant gate of the Mechanicum compound where automated gun towers stood watch. The door was sealed with a great Cog symbol that was larger than a Rhino. The machine eye opened and a red laser painted them.

“Identify yourself,” a mechanical voice said.

“Canoness Helena Theophano of the Order of the Penitent Lady.”

“Access granted.”

The doors slid open and the Rhino rumbled into the courtyard of the Factorum. The Factorum made axels and other parts for Imperial Guard cargo transports. Nothing glamorous or glorious. It didn’t need to be. Such banality was the lifeblood of the Imperium’s might.

But still, it hardly seemed a worthy target for Word Bearers. No, whatever they were here for it wasn’t the factorum.

She often had to be corrected. On her planet the local dialect said “Empire” and often she slipped into her old ways.

Vehicles of all shapes and sizes were parked in the motor pool of the factorum. Somme looked like the feverish imaginings of a lunatic with legs instead of honest wheels or tracks. One looked remotely like a Chimera only it had four spider legs and a strange spherical device on top. It wasn’t a gun so Irena had no idea what it could be. Seemed a waste not to put a gun up there. But then, she thought most things without guns were a waste.

The Rhino came to a halt near the front entrance. Wide bronze steps led up to a set of doors that again had the Cog symbol on it.

“I don’t like dealing with heretics,” Irena said.

“They worship the Emperor as well, Irena. Well, most of them do.”

“I thought they worship some Omnissiah.”

“That’s their name for the Emperor.”

If that was so, that meant Sophia wasn’t in such a need of being purged as she thought. That was good news for Sophia had proven an invaluable tool in the Emperor’s hands.
Helena climbed out of the Rhino and slung her bolter over her shoulder. Her Celestians formed a wall around her as they made their way up the three flights of stairs that were wide enough to accommodate thirty people standing with side by side with outstretched arms.

Before they reached the top the doors opened. A Tech Priest in red robes appeared. He was a frail form and she saw no movement under his robes as he moved. He seemed to glide over the smooth platform. His hands were machine and several servo arms with various attachments (none of which she could identify, which meant they weren’t guns) spread out from his back. His hood concealed his face but she saw one red light glowing in the darkness.

Then another figure emerged. This one she knew very well. Tech Priestess Sophia followed close behind the first Priest.

“Logis Scallian. I think we may have a problem,” Helena said.

“There is no doubt of the situation being problematic. Follow,” the Logis said in a monotone, mechanical voice.

The Logis turned and walked back inside without a hint of greeting or explanation.

As they entered she nodded to Sophia who, surprisingly, returned the nod.

They were lead to a utilitarian elevator in a sterile, dark hallway. The constant litanies of the Cult Mechanicum were being spoken in a calm, female voice that had an undercurrent of something that sounded like static only it was in a pattern. Probably their damnable machine cant. Speaking the language of machines seemed too silly to be heretical. Why not make machines that spoke Gothic?

In the elevator no one spoke. She followed the Canoness’s lead on this. Helena dealt with the local Logis often and knew what to do.

When the door opened they stepped out into a control center of some kind Servitors and Tech Priests were hunched over computer terminals in a dark room, illuminated only by the glowing screens that hovered in front of them.

The Logis took them to the front of the ampitheater-like room and pointed one of his machine hands to a screen that was larger than the rest. The image looked like someone had drawn random lines and squiggles all over it.

“Do you read this chart?” The Logis asked.

“I do not,” Helena said with far more patience than Irena would have.

The Logis waved his hand and the screen turned to a grainy picture of what could be a battleship.

“Do you understand this picture?” The Logis asked.

“It’s the Lux Divina,” Helena said.

“Correct.” A red laser shot out of one of the devices on the end of his servo arm and pointed to a patch of light gray behind the battleship. “Do you understand the meaning of this?”

“I do not,” Helena answered.

“It is an asteroid. It is being towed by the Astartes warship.”

What in Russ’s beard would they want with an asteroid?

Helena guessed at the meaning because she saw Helena frown. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

Why would they want a rock, though? She’d know what she’d do with one. If she had a giant space rock, she’d just drop it on…

“They’re going to drop it on us,” Irena whispered.

Helena looked over to her and nodded.

“But why bother? That battleship has far more firepower than an asteroid of that size could produce,” Irena said.

“Unknown,” the Logis said.

“It doesn’t make sense. The energy used to tow and sling that rock has to be immense. It’d be far more effective and efficient to use ordinatus,” Helena said.

“We do not have sufficient information to answer this question,” the Logis said. “But we must prepare.”

For the first time in her life Irena saw Canoness Helena at a loss for words. She always had a few ideas at instant beck and call and could think on the fly. She’s know the most important thing to be done and get that going immediately while she thought and refined her plan.

This time Helena put her hands on her hips and walked back and forth for a few minutes.

“How many people can your underground facilities hold?” Helena asked.

“Maybe a quarter of the population at most,” the Logis said.

Irena looked to Sophia who stood there, unmoving and silent. Her skull-like facemask and its green lens eyes betrayed no thought or emotion.

How could everyone be so damned calm about all of this?

“Women and children into your facilities. Every male we’ll give a lasgun to and we’ll bunker down the best we can in the monastery and ground level facilities,” Helena said.

“A direct hit will have a 100% chance of killing you, regardless of being in a bunker. The only choice for survival is deep underground.”

“We have to try,” Helena said.

“Negative. It is a simple mathematical formula. If you stay on the surface, you will perish. That is assuming that the target is the city.”

But if they wanted to destroy them, they could have just bombarded them from orbit. They still weren’t seeing something here. The Word Bearers were after something. They tried to take over the colony by infiltration, now they were using force. They wanted something here.

“Logis, may I ask a question?” Irena asked.

“This is no time for idle formality. Just ask,” Helena said.

“Do you have anything the Word Bearers might want?” Irena asked.

It sounded crazy. After all, the Mechanicum only made spare parts for cargo haulers. They didn’t have anything of any worth here.

“No,” the Logis said without pause.

“We have nothing of any value that isn’t found on any other world,” the Logis said.

“Logis, please get me in contact with the planetary governor. We need to start an emergency evacuation at once.”

“I will, but I must insist that as temporary leader of the colony that you, your sisters and all your equipment must be within our safe facilities.”

“We’ll take our chances out there with the rest of them. It’ll allow more civilians to be safe inside.”

“Helena, think about it,” the Logis said, using the Canoness’s first name. “The Word Bearers will know we are here. They will come. If you are not here, my small bodyguard is not enough
to keep them at bay.”

Canoness Helena looked at the Logis like she wanted to shove her fist through his head.

Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Order the evacuation. Make room for my Order in your facilities,” Helena said.

Canoness Helena then got on the comms with the planetary militia commander. His men would also be allowed in, though that left even less room for the people and supplies.
While Canoness Helena tried to find out if there was anything to be done to make more room, Irena wandered over to Sophia who was still standing in the same spot.

“Is the Mechanicum ready for this?” Irena asked.

“Not remotely. We are prepared to survive the initial assault and that is all.”

“Do you have faith in the Emperor?”

“I have faith in the Omnissiah.”

“Do you believe He’ll protect us?”

“Not necessarily. Many loyal servants perish in countless wars.”

“But we win those wars in the end, don’t we? How can we win here if we all die?”

“The city populace will die.”

Irena struggled to find a meaning to such slaughter and cursed herself for lacking the faith to come up with an answer.

“We don’t always know or understand His will. All we can do is what we can do.”

“We are meant to understand. That is why he gave us the universal language.”

“Gothic?”

“Mathematics. All things are math. Math is the song He chose to communicate with the world.”

“He also talked, you know. He gave speeches and talked to his Primarchs.”

“That was but one avatar of a greater truth.”

“And that’s heresy.”

“Only if its not truth.”

She had tried to find the truth in their heretical teaching, but Sophia was still in need of being purged. It was fortunate for both that she wasn’t allowed to because she would not enjoy that particular duty.

“Sophia, we’re about to fight Word Bearers. Are you ready?”

“I have kept the multi laser in working condition and I have continued to run the combat simulations.”

“I’ll assume you meant ‘yes’ by that.”

“I did.”

Her eyes went to large computer map on the wall that showed the city and the factorum. It was filled with 30,000 loyal citizens of the Imperium. In six hours most of them would be dead.
The city will be destroyed. She had walked the streets and seen the faces of the people she was protecting. She had fought to Governor and his cult to protect these people. Now they were going to die and there was nothing she could do to stop it. It was as certain as the setting of the sun.

Inevitable was a terrible word.