"Rules of engagement, sister? What reception should we expect on the surface? How...ah, 'rustic' are the people of Cekrov?"

"In addition to what the Sisters ask, I have a few minor concerns. First is on the matter of tongue. Do they speak High Gothic, or a Low Gothic dialect? I will do my duty regardless, but if they speak another tongue I best start learning it as soon as I can. Finally, is there any word of our mission? Like this one, it would be preferable if it appeared we were a routine visit, perhaps even if we feigned lack of knowledge that this happened at all." 

"Once that is answered and if the last member of our quartet has no questions, I believe we may depart."

Victorine listened patiently, wincing inwardly as the Confessor – perhaps without knowing it – overstepped his own authority. He was correct, they [b]would[/b] depart after she answered the questions, but it was not his place to say so.

“The rules of engagement are quite simple, Sister; we shall be posing as a group of travelling ecclesiastical servants touring the sector – giving out blessings, healing the sick, our noble Confessor here preaching sermons and the like, while we have been given permission to use [i]necessary force[/i] should it come to it.”

She gave a short chuckle at the next question, “they are suitably backward for agri-denizens; they pay their tithes in foodstuffs, worship the God-Emperor as they should, and inhabit a planet stuck for many years in what the Ancient Terrans would have called an 'industrial era'. Steam powered machines, rudimentary electrical communications and so on. Fortunately for us the capital city is more advanced, and acts as a beacon of Imperial power upon Cekrov.”

Turning to Horacio in a rustle of vestments and creaking of armour, she gave her first smile – exposing two rows of fine white teeth against her darker flesh – it was not a smile that showed much signs of warmth...

“They speak an archaic form of Low Gothic, dear Confessor. Understandable enough, though a little thick in some of the more out-of-the-way hamlets. Learning another tongue entirely shall not be necessary.”

A series of hand gestures notified the group that the time for speaking was over, the time to do the Emperor's work was nearly at hand, and the time to 'mount up' and fly out was imminent.


[hr]
[hr]


Transport for the Sisters and accompanying individuals was a modified Cobra-class Destroyer from the local battlefleet, a vessel of nearly fifteen-thousand individuals and altered for swifter warp-travel, reached by a small gun-cutter from the surface of Taniea Primus. It was called [i]The Holy Flame[/i], and had been requisitioned by the Adepta Sororitas only days after its construction and first warp-jump, even bearing upon it the [i]fleur de lys[/i] of the Sisterhood.

Upon arrival at the launch platform the party was met by another Sister [@LemonZest1337], a towering figure hefting what looked like a heavy bolter, as well as a shorter and distinctly more masculine individual. 

Victorine paused, gesturing for the rest of the group to do likewise, some feet away and waited; these newcomers would either come to them and introduce herself or they'd remain at an impasse all day.