[i]"SISTER LISBETH!"[/i] Somewhere off to her left, a bass voice growled, and the towering Sister Alexa approached, with a scowl laid over the features of her helmet by Lisbeth's imagination. As she fell into her long, spindly shadow, she felt as though she was a neonate within the Scholae Progenium again, being scolded by her lexicography master for chattering. [i]"We're arresting them, not executing them!"[/i] When she turned, her first instinct was to shout, to defend herself and to explain that the only good heretic was a dead heretic - and these people were guilty by association. It did not take long for her features to soften; even if Alexa hadn't been a terrifying figure to behold, Lisbeth was not an argumentative soul by nature. More than anything else, she was embarrassed. She had lost her temper, and perhaps valuable information now lay irretrievable. "I didn't - I'm sorry, they...damn it." 

Rubbing her eyes with the back of her gauntlet wasn't helping - the flash from the suicide devices was still burnt as a multicoloured spot in the centre of her vision, and Lisbeth's eyes were still watering from the smoke and the smell of burnt, fatty tissue. "They killed our sisters." She turned away, swallowing hard. "They killed Persephone." It was selfish and stupid to be so upset, so bothered by Persephone when there were others who lay dead or injured, but she was at times selfish and stupid. "They killed her," she repeated, finding herself furious with how utterly [i]dumb[/i] she sounded.

...was she crying? No... well, yes, but Alexa was fairly sure it wasn't for reasons of sentimentality. And if it were, she was sure the Inquisitor would have something to say about it. More likely, the flash of light and heat, along with the smoke of burning bodies, had gotten to them, a more reasonable cause of tears than anything else, given who they were.

[color=red]'I know, Lisbeth,'[/color] Alexa said in a soothing... but again, the helmet kept warping her tone to a much harsher drone, so she was now obliged to keep going so as to make sure she wasn't misunderstood. [color=red]'The loss of any human, be it into the Emperor's hand or to the ravages of Chaos, is a saddening time, for it means one less supporter in the Imperium's ranks. And this role is what we are trained for, after all. Rest assured,'[/color] she continued, still not convinced she'd made her sympathies clear, [color=red]'Sister Persephone sits now by the side of the God-Emperor, freed from mortal burdens.'[/color] Speaking of which, it occurred to her that perhaps the Confessor ought to be giving this speech, but she couldn't in good conscience allow a fellow Battle-Sister to be conflicted so.

"I...I know, sister. I know," sighed Lisbeth, exhausted. After all the anger and the adrenaline had left her, all she was left with was the sapping tingle of tired limbs and the swampy bog at the bottom of her guts that slowly stirred like a witch's poison brew. This lapse of faith - and the rest of today's failures - would have to be repented for, and they would be, but for now there were orders to be followed, plans to be made - bodies to be laid to rest. Trying now to blink the persistent dots away, she examined [i]Permanence,[/i] calming herself by following the Rites of Maintenance before she craned her neck to look up at Alexa. "Sister, I want you to make me a promise. If I fall before this business is finished, you must save the faithful souls on this world. You must find the one who is responsible for all of this, and they must [i]suffer[/i] before they burn."

[Color=red]'Well, of course, Sister,'[/color] Alexa responded immediately. [color=red]'There isn't an alternative to break to anyway. Naturally, they who have corrupted even the smallest number of humans is irredeemable, and must be put down no matter what sacrifices must be made.'[/color] That was a given, was it not? Such a grievous error in faith could only be resolved by torment of the highest order, until the sinner had either repented or died, followed by a burning whether or not they still lived, destroying their body to try and save their soul, and even then the final decision was ultimately His. And if they remained unrepentant even then... well, there would always be those who pledged themselves to ushering in their own damnation, no matter the efforts of others.

"Thank you, sister," Lisbeth started, leaving her mouth hanging open like a stunned fish while she searched for something to finish the sentence with. Eventually, she settled for "Thank you," patting her sister-in-arms on the elbow - she would have laid a hand on her shoulder, but even two of Lisbeth would have struggled to reach that high. Not quite half a smile returned and an overwhelming sense of serenity crashed into the tiny warrior's mind; it still hurt, and she was still in equal measure despondent and furious, but the presence and the words of the faithful could soothe any spirit. She would accept the fate she was appointed, and do His will. "Come on. Milord Inquisitor will have puzzled out the next move, I'm sure." With that, she lifted her bolter onto her shoulder, raised her head, and steadied herself for whatever was to come, jogging over to accept orders with a light shining once again in her red-rimmed eyes.

Those flashes had [i]really[/i] hurt.