Battle Sister Vitruvia Procyon spent most of her days in isolation. The briefing had hinted at the possibility of an encounter with the [i]enemy[/i] and the athletic Sister of Battle devoted herself to spiritual preparation. She drank only water and deliberately choose the unflavored rations that were fed to the ships lowest laborers. Hours were spent in prayer and at night she self-flagellated and performed other mortifications of the flesh; through pain the spirit could be purified.

	The physical body was not neglected for it was through the material world that one served the God Emperor. Prayer without works was thunder without lightning. Vitruvia honed her martial skills as best she could in the cramped ships quarters and kept her armor clean, her bolter oiled and her chainsword greased. 

	Without access to the Order's texts on [i]Uvultu[/i] it was difficult to advance her studies so Vitruvia devoted herself to mastery of the minutia. The way the wrist turned in a parry-- just so. The position of the knee and ankle on a lunge-and-redouble. The way power armor changed the timing of one's footwork. Perfection in the service of the God Emperor was righteousness. No detail was too small.

	Another soul might have been crushed under the self-denial, relentless training and monotony of being trapped in a small space for day after day after day. Vitruvia found it spiritually moving and spent hours in awe of the The Holy Flame. To think, it was a kilometer and a half long and home to fifteen thousand souls-- and the Cobra-class was one of the smallest ships in the Imperium's service. Was this not proof of the divinity of the God Emperor? That ten thousand years after he drew mankind up from the mud of internecine warfare and forged an empire from a million worlds that his faithful servants still built on such a scale?

	Truly, Vitruvia was blessed to see such a monument to the God Emperor's glory.

[quote]"Squad Victorine, assemble! There is trouble afoot, and judgement to deliver, by His will!"[/quote]

	Blue eyes opened and Vitruvia brushed her white bangs back with fingers scarred from many hours sparring in the drill-yard of the Order. She rolled off of the hard bunk (she had removed the mattress as an unnecessary comfort) dressed with quick, efficient movements; donning her armor from the ground up, beginning with her boots and greeves, then cuisse, then cuirass and vambrace and gauntlets. The light, razor sharp chainsword was hung from her belt along with her six grenades, spare ammunition and the worn plasma pistol she had recently acquired.

	Holding her bolter in one hand with her helm tucked under her left arm she walked out into the hallway and joined the squad. Under her armor her back stung with the fire of her nightly self-flagellation and an aura of focused spiritual purity emitted from her every movement while her eyes burned with the quiet intensity of the fanatic. 

	[b]"Sisters. Horatio."[/b] She nodded at each of them and put on her helm, then racked the slide in her Godwyn-De'az bolter, double checking the sixty round drum magazine. [b]"For the glory of the God Emperor."[/b]