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Y'know, you're getting good at this :rolleyes:

 

Clear, descriptive writing in such a way that we can see what's going on in our mind's eye. Your style is a good one.

 

On a personal (and, unfortunately, critical) note, I'm a huge fan of how you do the dialogue between the Sisters. This is a personal note, but it feels to me like they are too conversational when they speak - something that doesn't exactly jive with my picture of how sisters work. I can't claim to do better, but Sisters are, I think, hard to do 'right'.

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Y'know, you're getting good at this :)

 

:rolleyes:

 

Thanks. I've enjoyed every minute of writing so far. It's also been fun reading what others here have done too. Yours has been one I've enjoyed hugely (and the main reason I've made an Inquisitor character of my own, although Stenson will be a totally different kind, but I'm getting far too ahead of myself ;) )

 

Clear, descriptive writing in such a way that we can see what's going on in our mind's eye. Your style is a good one.

 

Again, thanks. It's something that I've tried to put a lot of effort into, as it's something you mentioned before and you were right about being more descriptive ;)

 

On a personal (and, unfortunately, critical) note, I'm a huge fan of how you do the dialogue between the Sisters. This is a personal note, but it feels to me like they are too conversational when they speak - something that doesn't exactly jive with my picture of how sisters work. I can't claim to do better, but Sisters are, I think, hard to do 'right'.

 

I take you meant you're not a fan. I know what you mean. I have tried to research how they would speak and react to things and there isn't a lot out there on them fiction-wise. Again, I'll bear it in mind as I really want to nail this aspect.

 

Thanks again for the comments ;) and as ever, I'll be waiting in anticipation for your next installment ;)

 

(Anyone else reading should really, really read Lady_C's stuff if they haven't done so already. You're missing a hell of a story! ;) )

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  • 3 weeks later...

At the risk of double posting, here is the next part. It's a big one at over 3k or so words! I've been off work after a knee operation (the Iron Hand aficionado in me wanted an artificial one, but it was not to be :laugh.: ), so have had chance to write a fair bit (it also acts as a way of procrastinating and not getting down to the nitty gritty of starting my LPC vow :laugh.: )

 

Hope you enjoy it :happy.:

 

Killing in the name - Part 4

 

It had taken the best part of four weeks to organise the reclamation of Planet Hutlor and it would take a lot longer to get there. It was on the outer reaches of Segmentum Pacificus, and a world well used to attacks from Pirates, Orks and other races. Because of this, it was heavily fortified with a large battery of orbital weapons platforms. Upon the planets' surface, a large garrison of well trained PDF troops, the hard bitten, sour humoured locals making the bulk of its number. A few light years distant, the Space Marine Chapter known as the Endenapolis Bolters were wont to keep an eye on the planet, but its might was currently required elsewhere. If there ever was a perfect time to infiltrate and subvert this Imperial planet, it was now.

 

Hutlor was an odd mixture of Agri-World and industrial, the former at the northern continent, the latter contained to the south. The northern hemisphere was hot and humid, perfect conditions for producing the pulses and cereals the local sector thrived on. In the south, a large deposit of minerals required to manufacture metal alloys for tank armour was discovered around eight hundred years ago. According to reports from the Adeptus Mechanicus, there would still be more than enough to last another eight hundred.

 

If the reports are correct, then Xenos scum have infiltrated every aspect of Hutlor society, from the High borne Nobles to the lowest Manufactum worker. A race known as the Genestealer.

 

Little was known about them, and what was known kept from the general populace of the Imperium. Ignorance is bliss after all. The force sent to deal with the problem was nowhere large enough to eradicate potentially millions of corrupted people. Instead, it was the job of the task force to establish a beach head, to locate the Genestealer Patriarch and its main servants, and if possible destroy it. The task of eradicating the rest of the menace would be the job of another task force some two weeks behind. Included within that taskforce was the aforementioned Endenapolis Bolters. If the Patriarch and its retinue were allowed to escape, the consequences were dire indeed...

Looking at the holo showing a three dimensional image of a Purestrain Genestealer about to pounce, Saffron Sera blinked to try to refocus her bloodshot eyes; her efforts to learn as much as possible about this creature's weak points were flagging. Her body ached as she hunched over the dull green display, the room in darkness to try to aid her tired eyes.

 

"You really should get some rest."

 

Sera did not turn around, knowing the voices' owner, her mind instantly trying to shut out the others' hated abilities. She could feel their mind entering hers, surprisingly gentle considering the raw power the other had. It felt like cold water entering her veins like quick silver, and she shivered, hating herself as she did so. But she could not shut them out. She had almost given up trying.

 

The woman at the entrance to the room, suppressed a smile. It would not do to completely alienate this Battle Sister. Whilst only a relatively new warrior to the Convent, she had proven herself many times already. She was sorely tempted to show what lay before her in her future, but even she was not so foolish to try to change even minor events to suit her purpose. Saffron Sera's future was a bright one even so.

 

For a brief moment, she felt a pang of jealousy, relishing the sensation like a sweetmeat.

 

"Diligence is all very well, Sister, but neglecting your health in its pursuit is no excuse."

 

"Are you ordering me to leave this room?" the word emphasised, with no attempt at civility. Saffron hated the Psyker bitch and made no attempt to disguise her contempt. It was bad enough that she wore the badge of the Holy Inquisition, but to be a Witch, even a sanctioned one, was Heresy in her eyes. The sooner this mission is completed, so that this vile wretch of a woman leaves their company the better.

 

"I have no intention of ordering you to anything, at least not yet," Stenson made no attempt to hide her amusement this time, relishing the twist on the last word especially. "But heed my words. You will not be of any use if you are below peak condition.

 

"Neither to me, or your beloved Canoness." Stenson grinned broadly as she finished, knowing her tone was successful in eliciting the response she craved. Saffron had bunched her gloved fists, desperate to keep control of her anger. With her brow slick with sweat, Saffron offered up a brief prayer to stave off these feelings, but for naught. Grabbing a data slate from the holo projection unit, she spun on her heels, throwing it in the direction of the Inquisitor. The slate smashed on impact with the door frame.

 

But the Inquisitor was not there.

 

Damn her and damn all Witches!

 

Agatha Minori and Aethelfleda Du Pont had little contact with their Sisters during the first week of their journey to Hutlor. Their physical conditions were much improved after their ordeals on Syndar, but not quite ready for active duty, so they took every opportunity to exercise whilst in transit. To be left behind whilst their Sisters went ahead to battle this new menace was unthinkable. Neither Sister had any wish to let their Canoness down either. They had suffered much on that planet, Aethelfleda especially requiring much augmetic work. A new arm, a replacement lung and it was found later that her left eye was not functioning as well as it should either. She had been fitted with a new bionic and had taken to the firing range to ensure that it was working correctly. Hour after hour, she pumped bolt shells down range at targets, only stopping when there was nothing left to fire at. Agatha had accompanied her, more for company than to practice herself. Aethelfleda's obsession to be combat ready worried even her sensibilities.

 

"'Fleda, come now. You've practiced enough for one day. You need to take some time away from the range."

 

Aethelfleda turned to her Sister, seeing the concern on her face. Agatha sported another scar to her features which had made her open and caring visage squint slightly, as if she was permanently winching in pain. Agatha had been the more fortunate of the two, a fact that Agatha felt deeply. Aethelfleda was already a mute many years before she had entered the Order due to a gang attack on her home planet, but had refused to have replacement vocal cords. Slowly, surely, her body was being ravaged by battle, replaced with more and more augmetics. It seemed to Agatha that Aethelfleda's soul, her kindly spirit was slowly being eroded too.

Watching her sisters hands, Agatha nodded slowly, understanding the need to be ready, the feelings of failure. And deep remorse. Neither had seen Saffron much in the last few weeks, and they felt her absence almost as keenly as that of Polly Sage and Annabelle Chrysanthemum. They were both unable to say good bye to either, and in their own minds were unable to let go of their fallen Sisters. The Canoness herself had tried to assuage their lament, but ultimately it was something that only they could deal with.

 

"Come on 'Fleda. This is unhealthy. You haven't had anything to eat for days. Fasting is all well and good, but you need to keep your strength up." Agatha barely needed to watch Aethelfleda's hands to know her reply would be so do you. Reluctantly, Aethelfleda holstered her Bolt pistol and followed Agatha to the Ships' Refectory. Entering, there were other Sisters already eating. After Syndar, many squads had to be merged to deal with the losses. Whilst necessary, it was a decision made with reluctance. Sisters within a squad trained together for years, forging a bond stronger than steel. To split them or merge squads together, even in times of need was something of a taboo. Tensions had grown in recent days as Sisters unused to each others' ways, quarrelled. Agatha and Aethelfleda wished fervently that whomever they joined were Sisters they could rely upon.

 

Celestian Motoko watched two Sisters as they entered the Refectory. Their bearing was one of defeat, of soul tearing pain, and Motoko was deeply sad at that. Two of the brightest, most dedicated Sisters within the Order had been reduced to such a low and she had not been able yet to bring them out of it. She had already tried to reach their other squad Sister and whilst they had turned to melancholy, Saffron had turned to anger. It burned within her like Promethium, a bitter hate that she projected to nearly everyone but Motoko herself and the Canoness.

 

But it burnt brightest whenever the Inquisitor was near. The...talents Angelica Stenson brought to bear on her enemies was one fervently debated by many Sisters. Whilst it was evident that the Servant of the Golden Throne was devout in her duties, her manner was...odd. The...abilities themselves were sanctioned by Him on Earth and none could or would dispute it. But a Psyker was among them and many felt the way Saffron did. They just were not brave enough to articulate their feelings publically the way she did. The Sisterhood were taught to revile the Witch, the Mutant and the Heretic from an early age and they are given task by that which they instinctively feel hatred toward.

 

And she knew. She knew. Her bearing around them, a total disregard to decorum, her words in every sentence designed to bait them, to goad them into saying something. Even the Canoness herself was at a loss on how to deal with this wilful woman.

 

"Agatha, 'Fleda," Motoko bade them both be seated near her. Whilst technically their superior, Motoko had always treated them as equals. A Sister of many, many years service, she could see in them the continued future of the Order. Early on, she had developed an almost motherly nature towards them, Saffron and other ill fated members of Squad Lucia. And although she couldn't feel their pain as keenly, she mourned their loss too. Her own fate was still undecided, as her own squad was killed as had Sister Lyse's.

 

"Well met, Sisters." Agatha and Aethelfleda returned the greeting, but the pall on their manner resulted in Agatha's response mumbled morosely. Aethelfleda did not make eye contact.

 

"I take it you are yet to be reassigned to another squad?" Motoko knew the answer before she asked, but an idea formed in her own mind. One that might be to everyone's benefit.

 

"After we have eaten, we should seek out our erstwhile Sister." The two Sisters looked at each other nervously. It was well known that Saffron's temper was indiscriminate of late. They had no wish to be subject to it as well.

 

"I may have a solution to our current woes, one that even Saffron will be happy to hear about..."

 

It took over an hour to locate Saffron, most other Sisters unwilling to give up any information on her whereabouts. Those who knew were wary of being the one to reveal such details, but Motoko's rank was hard to ignore, and so it was that they had found her in her cell, sleeping fitfully. The small room was bare, for Sisters eschewed most material things, but the desk had been thrown over in a fit of pique, the cogitator's frame dented in places. Agatha briefly looked for the one item that Saffron could not bear to lose, Aethelfleda finding it in Saffron's hand gripped tightly.

 

A thin silver chain with a stylised V. Formerly belonging to Annabelle, it had been given to her, the chains' sister, a H now belonging to Agatha. Aethelfleda had a similar one with the letter L in honour of Saint Lucia, the Orders' Founder.

 

Motoko knelt by her Sisters' side, teasing the hair from Saffron's face. Tears streaked her cheeks, her eyes puffy from hours of weeping. Looking to her hand, she noticed that Saffron had gripped the necklace so tight that the letter had pierced her skin deeply, her fingers covered in dried blood. The other hand was bruised almost black. Two of her fingers had been dislocated from impact with something very solid. One the wall opposite, there were numerous indentations in the steel, as hard as it was, reluctantly bore damage to its sullen grey surface. Coating those impacts was blood. A lot of blood.

 

"Oh, Sister." Motoko sighed sadly as she caressed Saffron's dark red hair, trying to form a semblance of tidiness. The figure lying in front of her seemed so small, fragile, completely unlike the Sister she knew with boundless energy, a thirst to serve Him on Earth and a righteousness that she hadn't seen in anyone except the Canoness herself. The superficial wounds aside, Motoko could see that Saffron was the Sister within Squad Lucia who needed help the most. The one who looked fine, who never complained, the one who was more concerned about the welfare of others.

 

The one who everyone forgot had, perhaps, suffered the most.

 

Her dreams always brought her back to that last moment. The brief second of indecision, the reluctance to end her Sisters' life. In truth, they had little regard for each other, Annabelle seeing Saffron as a commoner, one who should not have been given the chance to serve Him on Earth. A rival for the Canoness' praises and command of Squad Lucia. A woman who was able to excel easily, a natural leader. Unlike herself. Saffron thought of Annabelle as a selfish, self absorbed bore, who's double standards grated on her nerves. The daughter of a Noble family, and given a chance to enter the Sisterhood, she stood apart from her Sisters, looking down on them with an arrogance that infuriated her.

 

But seconds before she ended her life, the look in Annabelle Chrysanthemum's eyes was anything but arrogant. She was an unwilling host to a being of such power, something alien. And the other being who fought for her soul was worse, far worse, the former it seemed was, out of the two, the force for good. The look of pure horror as Annabelle struggled to keep the evil contained was etched into Saffron's memory. The way the other being, one who presumed to claim she was the spirit of Saint Lucia herself reborn, contorted her features to speak to her, to bid her do her will and end the vessel, was wrong. It looked wrong, it sounded wrong.

 

Wrong.

 

The word vessel made Saffron seethe with fury. It implied a tool, a weapon, a thing. A matter of no importance.

 

A mere trifle.

 

When Saffron swung her sword, everything slowed down, her perception of time enhanced, seemingly by the action, or through whatever had possessed Annabelle. It felt like an eternity. Perhaps it was, for she felt aged, the weight of what she had done bearing down on her. She felt crushed, unable to breathe, unable to share this burden with anybody else in case it crushed them too. In an Order full of Sisters, she was alone. Truly and totally alone. The Canoness, Eliza Cho had spent hours with her to try to get her to open up, to share whatever it was that troubled her, but the dam that held her feelings fast was unbreachable, even to her. She wanted to cry, to scream, to feel what she should be feeling; sadness, remorse that she hadn't known her fallen Sisters as well as she could have. That she will never get the chance to tell both Annabelle and Poly Sage how she felt. That she missed them, that with their passing a part of her died as well.

 

Death. The Imperium was rumoured to be made up of a Billion, Billion worlds, full of countless more people. Did it really matter if one was sacrificed for the good of others? Would a fly complain if it was sacrificed on the Spiders altar? Would the Universe notice? Would it care?

No. No. No. No.

 

Such thoughts rushed in her unconscious. Seemingly heretical thoughts. Should the Universe care if one mortal was extinguished, when there are countless others to take its place? If so, what was the point in continuing? The Emperor, Him on Earth, was supposed to be the most compassionate, caring being there ever was, His sacrifice allowing Humanity to continue to exist. Did he care? Did he?

 

Well?

 

Saffron could now see the sword she bore in her hands arc towards Annabelle's neck, those thoughts taking nano seconds to come to the fore. The look on Annabelle's face had become calm, peaceful. Content even. Saffron blinked, and the visage before her, had changed, eyes the deepest of emerald, her impossibly long, pink tongue hanging vilely from her lips. Her skin had turned to the palest white, mottled with pastel colours, fluctuating wildly. Those eyes viewed her with the most disgusting, lewdest, carnal thoughts imaginable. Another blink and yet another face, one of noble features, but worn, her eyes shallow with pain, burning into her own, willing her to do what she was bade.

 

Kill the Vessel. Kill her now!

 

The swords' edge had reached Annabelle's neck, piercing her skin. She could see sinew, muscle and arteries tear cleanly as the swords keen bite was felt. The spinal column separated easily, although Saffron felt a slight jarring as bone hit holy metal. The blades' edge finally passed through the centre and out, forcing the head to fall away from the body. Falling slowly to the ground, the body briefly unable to comprehend what had happened until, it too, followed suit and fell.

 

A brief moment in time, barely a second in duration, seemingly an eternity spent.

 

Guilt. At not being able to free her Sister from her grizzly fate, and not being closer to her, for seeing faults where there should have been solidarity.

 

Faults. Faults. Her fault. Her fault. Hers. The words spun faster and faster in her mind, like a Typhoon, destroying everything in its path. Darkness loomed and Saffron made no attempt to escape from it.

 

Only darkness. And voices.

 

"Saffron. Saffron, wake up!" Motoko cried as she shook the others' prone form. Saffron was unresponsive, seemingly comatose, although Motoko noticed that her eyes were moving rapidly under those puffy eye lids.

 

"She's dreaming. God-Emperor knows what about."

 

"Do we tell the Canoness?" asked Agatha.

 

"Tell me what?" asked Eliza Cho. Stepping into the room, she knelt by Saffron's side. "Motoko, how long..."

 

"We have been here but a few minutes. She was unconscious even then."

Eliza pressed her vox bead. "Infirmary. Send Sister Lyse to Saffron Sera's quarters immediately."

 

Looking down at her Sisters prone form, the Canoness prayed that the Emperor was watching over her.

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  • 2 months later...

Another short post, but one that will hopefully get me back on track.  I really should try to get into some kind of regular schedule for writing. 

 

Anyway, here's the next part.

 

Killing in the name - Part 5

 

Sister Lyse studied the medicae device intently.  She had already arrived at a conclusion about Saffron's condition, but was at a total loss how to explain it to the others.  They were on edge, something that was more and more evident in most of the Order recently.  The Inquisitor was getting under everyone's skin by design.  Her wilful ways bordered on Heresy, but to accuse such a woman of standing was a sure way of revealing a few sins of her own.  Something she had taken the greatest of pains to keep hidden.

 

Finally summoning the courage to address her Sisters, she turned slowly, her manner measured as much as she was able, to infer confidence, to put them all at ease.  It didn't work.

 

"Sister Lyse, what ails her?  You must surely have had enough time to find that out?"  The Canoness was softly spoken, her own body language placating, but the look in her eyes was anything but relaxed.  Those eyes gave hints of barely controlled rage.  Incoherent and cloying.  One ill advised word could be the trigger to the Canoness' ire.  Lyse had absolutely no intention of being the recipient.

 

"It has taken time to establish anything concrete, my Lady Canoness," she demurred quietly.  "The fact is this.  There is nothing physical wrong with her, short of exhaustion and slight malnutrition, and nothing that would explain the state she's in.  There is something else. 

 

Something unnatural."

 

The Canoness' eyes narrowed.  "Explain."

 

Lyse shuffled, unnerved by the Canoness.  Eliza Cho had unconsciously put her hand nearer her weapon, a relic of the Order, a Hell fire pistol.  As lovely as it was with its mother of pearl inlay and lovingly etched images of Saint Lucia herself, it was threatening, a palpable presence.  Tearing her eyes from it, Lyse tried to muster the same amount of anger she felt at her superior some weeks back, the fury that she had struggled to contain within herself, was nowhere to be found.  As slight as she was compared to her Sisters, she looked even smaller now.

 

"That is what I have been trying to do.  Explain, to myself.  I have checked and checked again and again.  There is nothing natural about what is causing this.  I think the ships' Apothecary should take a look at her. 

 

I have failed."

 

The last three words echoed in the small room, more whispered than spoken, but to everyone present, it rang as loudly as an energy whip.  Sister Lyse had become the de facto chief medicae for the Order, despite her self-admitted gaps in knowledge.  Whilst it was not official, she had been given standing within the Order equal to her new found responsibilities.  She had not taken those responsibilities lightly and it told on her face.  She was young looking, even after over two decades of service, but her features were haggard and drawn out from too little sleep. 

 

Looking down upon her, the Canoness realised where her hand rested and withdrew it.

 

"Sister, I realise that I have asked too much of you already, but I need to know what is happening to her.  Any idea you can think of might be enough to solve this."

 

Lyse continued to stare at her, her mind racing.  What, what, what?

 

Pulse, normal.  Blood pressure, normal.  Encephalogram, normal.  Parasitic microbes, minimal.

 

Something else, something insidious.

 

She could smell copper, and burnt metal.  Despite herself she shivered.
 

Oh, no.  No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!

 

"There you are."

 

A voice behind them startled them all.  Spinning around in combat readiness,  the Canoness sprang forward snarling.  Thrusting her fist forwards, she punched the newcomer in the face with everything she had.  The figure was surprised, the shock of the attack throwing them completely off guard.

 

"You!" cried the Canoness.  "You are the one!  Release her! NOW!"

 

The figure chuckled derisively.  Standing slowly, their demeanour was haughty, arrogance seeping from every pore, despite the mess to her attractive, but sneering visage.

 

"Why should I?"

 

"I do not care if you are an agent of the Inquisition.  Release her immediately!"

 

"I am.  And I will not.  She had been put in this condition until such time I am satisfied that she poses no danger.  Be thankful I do not place you in a similar situation.

 

"However, I will overlook this...transgression.  For now.  Get back to planning the rescue of Hutlor.  I expect to receive a full plan of attack in twelve hours."

 

Turning her back, Inquisitor Angelica Stenson left, a twisted smile on her face.

 

Soon, I will have the answers I seek.  You will give up your secrets Saffron Sera.

 

Oh, yes indeed.

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I usually don.' t read anything other than about power armoured brothers but have to say i'm impressed with this story.:thanks:

 

No, thank you ^_^

 

It's unusual that of all the stories I've written (or am in the middle of writing), this one has characters and organisations I know the least about :blink:  However, I've really enjoyed writing this one, despite nearly writing myself into a corner a few times.  I'll hopefully have another update on this and "Bringing light" later this week ^_^

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  • 9 months later...

I have a question relating to the Amber Dragons if there are 3 companies why do you only get to meet 1 of the captains. ( I do like the Amber Dragons as any chapter related to Salamanders is good in my eyes) A very intresting read as usual good sir :)

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I usually don.' t read anything other than about power armoured brothers but have to say i'm impressed with this story.:thanks:

 

No, thank you :happy.:

 

It's unusual that of all the stories I've written (or am in the middle of writing), this one has characters and organisations I know the least about :blink.:  However, I've really enjoyed writing this one, despite nearly writing myself into a corner a few times.  I'll hopefully have another update on this and "Bringing light" later this week :happy.:

 

 

 

 

:dry.: And nearly a year later, still nothing :blink.:

 

 

I have a question relating to the Amber Dragons if there are 3 companies why do you only get to meet 1 of the captains. ( I do like the Amber Dragons as any chapter related to Salamanders is good in my eyes) A very intresting read as usual good sir :smile.:

I could give you a clever answer, but truthfully, I concentrated on Ambustio so much, that the fact there should have been two other Captains around somewhere was forgotten. My memory is weird - some things (usually important) I forget quite easily. Other things (usually not important) I remember as if it was yesterday.

 

In any case, I'll have to re-read the whole of this, take notes and get a new update. Preferably before it gets to the full year without one... :dry.:

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  • 3 weeks later...

This has been a good read. I hope that you are going to give us more in the future. I would like to see the Inquisitor get hers! :devil:

Thanks! :happy.:

 

This story, like the other three I'm writing, have been a little neglected due to work and other commitments, but I will be carrying them on. I do want to get something written over the coming weekend, even if it's just a little post to get myself back into it :smile.:

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  • 4 years later...
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