[@Andreyich][@BCTheEntity][@jbeil]([@Irredeemable])


[i]Some time later...[/i]


Victorine allowed herself the slightest of smiles as she felt the stiff breeze move through her hair and over her pleasant features, the facial movement leaving almost as soon as it had arrived however, the constant droning on of the Governors cybernetic emissary making sure she had not a moment of silence to enjoy an otherwise Emperor-blessed journey through the Cekrov countryside.

Emperor it was good to be away from Bovange - an entire city of desperate and sycophantic nobles, some might even call them [i]corrupt[/i] in the non-Chaotic sense (although maybe she would see about that later?) - the wide-open pastures that made up the primary produce centres of this planet reminding her of former lands and more...agreeable missions for the Preceptory.

"This village, emissary, does it have a name?"

"And that i- excuse me Celestian, pardon?"

"The village where this girl returned to life, does it have a name or do the nobles on this planet give them numbers?"

"I believe the workers call it Sarton, it is a small community of some hundred or so peasant-workers under the charge of Baron Terminus Gaspar, this 'resurrection' has greatly reduced output."

A grunt was all that this last statement elicited, those keen eyes taking in the blue skies and the unpolluted air associated with many agri-worlds, and the smile ever-so-slowly returning.


[hr]


Sarton was indeed a small community, so small that everyone knew everyone and one person's business was as much theirs as it was anothers, and production had indeed descreased with the spooking of the villagers/workers, but that was nothing compared to the scene that awaited the group and their escort.

It started with a hint of thick black smoke rising above the low-down rooftops in curling arcs, the flicker of flames igniting thatched roofs and mainly wooden cottages - something not seen on many Imperial worlds at all - the last breaths of the dying and the wails of the mourning.

To their credit the two squads of Cekrov guard that had accompanied them were on their guard the moment they spotted the carnage, gloved fingers resting on triggers and steady hands holding gun stocks to shoulders.

Victorine's hand went to her bolt-pistol as soon as the tang of battle hit her nostrils, a loud word from her bringing the convoy of light grav-transports to a halt just in front of the road into the village - a road which would lead directly to the village green and the middle of the settlement.

"Emissary remain here, and if you could send your soldiers around the fringes of the town to encircle and secure, then I would be most thankful."

The Sister-Celestian was already moving to scoop up her helmet and place it over her head, drawing her blade and gesturing for her fellow Warriors of the Emperor to do the same, her enchanced senses picking out the smaller details of bullet casings, accelerant used to hasten the fires, and the audibly louder cracks of receeding auto-gun fire from the other side soon to be joined by the lighter snap of las-fire.