In the Solidarities of Saint Mina, it is written that the God-Emperor sees all. That He walks with every Sister as she carries His name into the void, that He hears the words of every hymn, the thunder of every weapon, the battle cry of every warrior.
It is also written that wherever forces are gathered in His name, there He shall be.
‘Ubi autem ambulat, ibi non potest esse deficiendi.’
Wherever He walks, there can be no failure.
After the canoness’ briefing, Sister Augusta returned to her squad in their makeshift dormitorium – an abandoned hopper-trench now warmed by the richly decorated rose banners of their Order. Pipes and conduits wove their way down a long, half-cylindrical ceiling and, at the far end, an altar now stood to His might and presence. Standing before it, the Sisters recited, softly and together:
‘That Thou wouldst bring them only death,
That Thou shouldst spare none,
That Thou shouldst pardon none,
We beseech Thee, destroy them.’
As the litany came to a close, the newly reformed squad stood in silence, heads bowed and armour gleaming. Electro-candles glinted from their scarlet armour and from the weave of wires through the walls.
Augusta looked at each of them. Like her, her Sisters had been kept waiting while the canoness had decided their fate, and now she could feel their nervousness, like a tightly pulled wire. She looked down their line, from face to face.
Sister Melia Kaliyan, dusky and dark-eyed and, until the canoness’ recent orders, the squad’s second-in-command. The implication of her replacement was all too clear – the witch, Scafidis Zale, had touched Melia’s mind and her trustworthiness could be compromised.
Augusta trusted her Sisters completely, but the insinuation was making her flesh creep – like the nightmares left by the daemon, the witch’s mental trickery was too recent, and they needed to be wary of its residue.
Next to Melia, Sister Viola Taenaris, red-haired and freckle-skinned. In her gauntleted hands she bore the exquisitely decorated, thrice-blessed heavy bolter that, here, she carried at all times. Viola was still young, and she could be both undisciplined and unpredictable, but her courage was truly ferocious.
By Viola, Sister Akemi Hirari, with her black hair and pale skin and her dataslate already in her hand. Though the youngest of the squad, Akemi’s insight and education were unparalleled, and often she understood things that the others did not.
Beyond them, at the far end of the line, stood the newcomer Sister Rhea, tall and elegant, her blue eyes downcast. Rhea was young enough for her tattoo to be crisp, but experienced enough to already carry three merit beads on her chaplet. She bore her auspex close to hand, as Sister Caia had always done.
And behind them all stood the big, heavy-shouldered form of Sister Alcina, her arms crossed and her chaplet heavy with adamantine. She, too, was scanning the squad.
Her gaze crossed Augusta’s, and stopped.
Alcina, Augusta realised with a cold shock, was not just watching Melia.
But the Sister Superior did not permit herself a reaction, and she opened their briefing as usual.
‘My Sisters,’ she said. ‘In the name of Holy Terra and the God-Emperor of Mankind, I entreat your attention and your vigilance.’
‘Our vigilance is constant.’ The squad’s answers were clear and strong – they had done this many times. ‘We stand against the heretic, the xenos and the traitor. We carry His word and His light to every corner of the Imperium, and beyond. Cave ne saltem arce hostes. Let our foes beware.’
‘Let our foes beware,’ the Sister Superior returned the salutation, and said, ‘We have been issued our orders, Sisters. As of this moment, we are in a full-combat situation.’ Carefully, she outlined the details. ‘We will observe vox silence until the command is given otherwise. We will bear full armour and weapons at all times. We will sleep in shifts, until the order is given to mobilise.’ She nodded at the pallets down one side of the trench. ‘All combat directives will come directly from the canoness to her Sisters Superior, from whom they will be relayed.’ She paused, feeling the strength of the moment – an uplift of hope and favour. ‘Truly, the Emperor has blessed us. It has been many years since our Order stood at muster. We will carry His name, His rage, and His glory out to the coming battle.’
‘Ave Imperator.’ Alcina voiced the salute, her tone severe.
‘Ave Imperator.’ The others echoed her, but Augusta could hear their tension – they were waiting for the canoness’ verdict.
For the news of their fate.
Akemi was frowning, and her lips moved in silent prayer.
‘Sisters,’ Augusta said. ‘Before I begin the briefing proper, I bring word of the Order’s decision.’
Melia looked up sharply. Akemi bit her lip.
‘We must offer our thanks for His justice and mercy,’ Augusta told them. ‘We will be keeping our–’
‘We’re not going to be…?’ Viola left the word ‘Repentia’ unsaid, as if it were too terrible to voice.
Sister Alcina shifted, letting her armour scrape. She gave the back of Viola’s head a glare, then raised an eyebrow at Augusta.
‘You permit your squad to interrupt you?’
Her tone was harsh, and Augusta tensed. She continued to speak, her voice carefully neutral. ‘Due to her seniority, Sister Alcina will be taking the position of my second-in-command.’ She glanced at Melia, saw the dark flash that passed across her gaze, though she said nothing. ‘Sister Rhea will be acting as lookout, as Sister Caia is attending the canoness. And in answer to your query,’ Augusta addressed her new second, her tone firm, ‘my squad have waited two solar weeks for the canoness’ verdict, and the courage they have shown has been admirable.’ She flicked a warning glance at Viola. ‘You are correct, however – I do not tolerate an interruption at a briefing.’ Viola twitched and lowered her gaze, and Augusta went on. ‘Under normal circumstances, I would likewise not field new Sisters in this squad until we had trained together. Here, however, such indulgence is not practical. I expect you to follow my orders, Sisters.’
Sister Alcina paused as if weighing what Augusta had said, and then responded, her tone measured, ‘Ave Imperator, Sister Superior.’
‘Ave Imperator,’ Augusta returned. ‘I trust that this squad, with its new members, will carry the name of Saint Mina and the Emperor’s light as it has always done, and that we will discover our discipline and unity in the face of the enemy.’
Sister Rhea repeated, ‘Ave Imperator.’
‘Very well.’ Augusta nodded. ‘I will continue.’
Carefully, she moved the electro-candles and the small refectorium effigy aside and laid her dataslate on the narrow central table. The slate’s glassy surface was already flowing with slowly scrolling maps.
The squad moved closer to look.
Using her quill, the Sister Superior pointed at the screen. For the benefit of the two new members, she said, ‘You are already aware that Vastum was a forge world, stripped of its resources, and then abandoned. During our prior mission here we discovered a concealed force that the departing Mechanicus had somehow overlooked.’ From somewhere, further out in the complex, the Terce hymnal rose into the pipework, making the metal sing, high and pure.
Augusta continued, ‘The Imperial frigate Kyrus has been watching this force. She has also been scanning Vastum’s surface for any further caches of machines.’
The hymn rose to a crystal crescendo, a rise of thanks for the day, and for the coming confrontation. Augusta felt herself shiver – that familiar, glorious rush of battle-anticipation.
She said, ‘And she has found them.’
‘There are more?’ Akemi breathed.
‘In total,’ Augusta said, ‘six of Vastum’s one hundred and forty-four factoria have been found to contain a substantial force.’ For the benefit of the two new Sisters, she outlined, ‘Kataphrons – Breachers and Destroyers. Kastelans. A few Ironstriders. The Kyrus estimates two hundred single operational units.’
She paused, letting the squad catch up.
‘That’s quite an army,’ Melia commented, thoughtfully. ‘How do you overlook a force that large?’
Augusta said, ‘We are familiar with the enemy commander. We encountered the heretek Questor Rayos on our previous mission. And we have already witnessed that her machines are scratch-built, frequently lacking their full or correct armament.’ Augusta paused, looking around at her Sisters, their red shoulders framed by the Order’s banners.
‘Rayos was a trader in machine-parts and information,’ Akemi said, nodding. ‘She’s been building them.’
‘Do not underestimate Rayos’ resources, or abilities,’ Augusta said. She nudged the dataslate and the map shifted.
The squad leaned forwards, the screen’s illumination bathing their faces.
Now, the illustration had changed. In close-up it was showing a ragged scatter of rough, dark blotches, tracing their way across the planet’s watery surface like a disease. Connecting several of these was a series of long and slowly curving black stripes.
‘This is a volcanic island chain,’ Augusta said, ‘connected by a series of roads. As we can see, this cluster here intersects with one of our occupied factoria. We,’ – she tapped the slate with the quill, indicating one of the dark islands at the cluster’s outermost edge – ‘are here. Forge temple and administratum zero-point-seven-seven.’
A whisper of hymn came through the pipes, ethereal and stirring. The hairs on Augusta’s neck stood on end.
‘At the other end of this island chain,’ Augusta said, ‘waits this planet’s primary citadel.’ A new light flared on the screen’s surface. ‘It covers approximately three square miles, and encompasses the main factorum as well as the central forge temple. It is also the only place upon this cesspit of a world that still holds an operational orbital launch–point. For the last two weeks, Rayos’ forces have been converging upon this location.’
‘If they’re all in one place,’ Viola asked, ‘why doesn’t the Kyrus just launch an orbital strike?’
Alcina gave the red-haired Sister a sharp look, but Viola ignored her, still studying the screen.
The Sister Superior answered, her words pointed. ‘The citadel is defended by an Emanatus force field. Our duty is to take that force field down. Sister Rhea,’ Augusta nodded at the newcomer, ‘has seen this device before, and will be able to identify and disable it.’
‘In His name,’ Rhea said, ‘I will not fail.’
‘We pray for His blessing, Sister,’ Augusta said. ‘The road between us and the citadel is over two hundred miles. The Kyrus reports that it is currently empty, but it may not remain so once we begin our advance. Please remember that we expect to be heavily outnumbered.’ She looked around at her Sisters, meeting each gaze, making sure they understood. ‘This is why the canoness’ adjutant, Sister Aitamah, has remained at the convent.’
Silence followed her words, and a chill breath stole through the metal room, stirring the hangings. The hymn had stopped, and its absence was suddenly echoing-loud.
Viola’s hands tightened on the heavy bolter, and Akemi scribbled frantically on her dataslate.
In the quiet, Sister Rhea was muttering the words of the litany, ‘A morte perpetua…’
Melia asked, her velvet voice cool, ‘Does Rayos have ships incoming?’
Augusta said, ‘Neither the Kyrus nor the Lux Sancta have reported incoming ships – but the canoness suspects it will not be long. The Lux Sancta has left orbit, and the Kyrus does not carry the armament for a battle, so we must move with speed.’
‘Sister, may I ask a question?’ Akemi was running the numbers, assembling her data like she was a tech-priest herself. ‘We have seen that Rayos’ forces are scratch-built – do we have further details of her army?’
‘We have the last known data from the Kyrus’ scans,’ Augusta told her. ‘We do not have the data from the citadel itself, as our scanners cannot penetrate the rock.’
The youngest Sister frowned at her dataslate, trying to work it out.
‘The canoness’ brief is very clear.’ Augusta picked up the screen and looked round at the five faces, her new squad, their armour glinting in the electro-candlelight. ‘We must reach the orbital platform before Rayos’ force can leave the planet. And if we must fight our way along every mile of road, then that is His will.
‘We face a trying battle, my Sisters. And may He be with us.’
Following the briefing, Augusta went to the Order’s chapel, one of the old forge temple’s transepts, now decorated with a full-sized embroidered banner depicting the God-Emperor Himself, His head haloed in Sol’s light, His flaming blade in hand. Around Him, the brass pipes had been cleaned, and carefully placed electro-candles made them shine like a promise.
There was no servitor to take her weapons and she was under combat orders, but carrying them in His presence still felt wrong. Augusta walked up the short aisle and dropped to one knee, her head bowed.
Her steel-grey hair fell forwards, hiding her face.
‘Tibi gratias ago tibi Imperatore.’
Thank you, my Emperor.
With the briefings over and her orders clear, she had come to offer the Litany of Thanksgiving – for His judgment, and for the justice and wisdom of her Order.
She had not realised how much she had feared the loss of her armour, and her honour. And there was no place for fear – or pride – in His presence.
Only for service.
She stayed kneeling for a moment, then came back to her feet, her head still bowed.
A deep voice behind her said, ‘Sister Superior?’
The words were quiet, respectful.
She turned, her boots scraping on the stone.
Behind her, at the very edge of the transept, two figures were also rising. They were very young, their battered gear was brown and green and Militarum, and their lasrifles were held tight at their sides, like some third limb. One of them was long and lean and dark-skinned, the other shorter and stockier with a scar through his eyebrow.
‘Mors,’ she said, to the man who had spoken. ‘Rufus.’
The two soldiers were the last survivors of the deserter squad that had been guarding the doomed inquisitor. It had been Mors who had pulled the trigger and sent the sizzle of his lasrifle through Istrix’s unwary skull.
Both men offered her the sign of the aquila.
Gravely, she returned the salute.
They glanced at each other with a flicker of awkwardness – they obviously wanted to say something, but they were two lone soldiers in the centre of a full deployment of the Adepta Sororitas, and they were both self-conscious and very out of place.
Augusta said, ‘You wish to ask me a question, corporal?’
‘No longer corporal, Sister,’ Mors said, ‘though the canoness has let us keep our gear.’
She stopped herself smiling at his rueful tone. ‘What do you need?’
‘Sister…’ Mors glanced up at the embroidered banner and straightened his shoulders. ‘Rufus and I are assigned to your squad.’
‘So I understand,’ she said. ‘And I’m glad to have you, both of you. You have proven your courage and faith many times.’
‘Our orders are clear,’ Mors said. He pulled his shoulders back even further, let out his breath. ‘We’re still deserters, Sister, and we’re to offer our lives in the service of the Emperor.’
‘Aye.’ Augusta nodded slowly, understanding. ‘You have been given the opportunity to attain redemption. To serve Holy Terra, and to die with honour. You should be proud.’
‘We are,’ Rufus said. ‘We shot an inquisitor. It’s more than we deserve.’
Both men relapsed to their slightly awkward silence, and Augusta said, ‘The Order musters at Lauds, and we will commence our advance along the roadway. My squad have been assigned a Repressor, and we will take our position at the second line of the left flank. You will report to that location.’
‘Yes, Sister.’
‘Return to your prayers, both of you,’ she told them. ‘I will expect you in the morning.’
As the soldiers returned to their kneel, Augusta squared her shoulders and turned to look up at the banner, its gold embroidery glittering like the pipework that surrounded it.
He stared out over the transept, His face severe.
To serve Holy Terra, and to die with honour.
And the Sister Superior wondered…
Had her squad been offered the same?