[@jbeil][@BCTheEntity]

Several hours must have passed since their entry into the palace, thought Victorine to herself, pacing down yet another corridor and watching with satisfaction as another las-round burrowed through the mask and into the skull of yet another orange-clad heretic.

Much like the hours, they must surely have dispatched every heretic within the confines of the palace walls! How could they not have? She had already dried two-to-three ammo packs, leaving them hissing on the floor as she moved with her comrades-in-arms, toward an area that all woman jack of them would know when they got there.

"And here we are..." muttered the Celestian, pausing briefly and moving into a half-crouch, turning to look at her Sisters with a half-grimace half-smile of fanatacism, "[i]something[/i] waits for us within, though I cannot know what as the God-Emperor does, but I can... feel... something... beyond those doors, where we have all stepped before." Her eyes turned to look at the doors ahead, large enough for a dreadnought to pass through without hinderance, and her expression became dark with woe, "prepare your weapons, Sisters and, if it is required, give your lives for the God-Emperor and our Imperium."

Checking one last time that her bolt pistol was loaded, and that the spirit of her powersword was prepared to take further life, Victorine gave a hand signal to proceed up the corridor and straight at the doors.


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The audience hall could not have been any more different than it had been the first time they saw it; while previously it had been filled to the rafters with officials, retinues, and the sound of soaring music, the hall now contained no sound but that of the door swinging open to reveal a sight that made the Celestian's hands tighten into fists and her blood run hot through her veins.

There stood before the spreading trio, near enough at the other end of the darkened and empty hall, was the grille-mouthed Emissary - he stood as still as the shadows all around him, and just as uncaring at their prescence it seemed, two robotically strengthened hands clasped on either side of a kneeling figure... none other than Governor De'mange himself! The poor man had obviously been drugged or poisoned, still dressed in his nightwear, his lolling head only kept upright by the trecherous parasite gripping it.

"Welcome Sisters," intoned the puppet-master in a voice as emotionless as the circuits that ran through his nervous system, his hooded head leaving only his ashen face and glinting grille visible in the moonlight, "I am truly sorry that this has to happen, I did not want it to you see. No, believe me, I tell the truth, Emperor as my witness."

With a slight twist of his hands, and a loud [i]crunch[/i] of bone, the neck of Diokletian was broken without so much as a thought, and the formerly virile and strong Governor dropped to the floor as no more than a sack of meat.

"Humans, so very fragile. He was a cruel master though, you can rest assured he did not deserve all that the Emperor and his Imperium had given him."

It was then that the Emissary brushed his hands together in an oddly human gesture, as if brushing dirt from his hands, other arms moving beneath the folds of his robes - holding concealed weapons no doubt.

"Speaking of masters, I believe you have mine incarcerated aboard your ship." It was not a question but a statement, also a delivering of terms, "release him, please. I will ask only once. Do so, and not only may you all keep your lives, but the life of your sainted girl will not be forfeit in place of my masters."

Victorine looked to each of her Battle Sisters in turn, her hand moving ever-so-slowly toward the hilt of her bolt pistol, hoping that they too would take the hint.

The time for talking had been over the moment that they entered the hall... now was the time for death and retribution.


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[@Andreyich]


[I]"Horacio Mazzini,"[/i] spoke a far-away voice, a voice made up of a multitude of voices in fact, moving through the Confessors mind as if whatever was speaking to him had him surrounded internally, [i]"you will not... can not... die here, the God-Emperor has not had his fill of you yet, Confessor."[/i]

Something began to form within his mind, first nothing more than an outline of blinding white light, before the figure of a young woman stepped into his thoughts and conciousness, her face serene and calm as she gazed into him dressed in no more than a light shift.

[i]"Even now your charges fight for their lives, seeking to save me and to redeem this planet from damnation. They cannot do it alone, Horacio. Not without the spiritual strength you supply to them.[/i]

She knelt down beside him then, striking his bleeding head calmly, a warmth spreading into him though he could have been awake or asleep at this point - it mattered not.

[I]"Go to them Horacio, help them push back the darkness! Rise and fight, the Emperor commands it![/i]

A crack and flash of light and she was gone, leaving only Horacio and the corpses of those he had killed some time earlier, the wound on his head naught now but a puckered scar.