Hidden 6 mos ago Post by Jb
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Some time, and the gathering of several civilian women and one Arvus Lighter, later...

Victorine hadn't realised how much she'd dislike standing around in nothing but her under clothing - a sleeveless top and pair of loose trousers in the colours of her priory - but is dawned on her as she watched the three not-quite-large-enough figures seemingly discussing with one another; she may not be an Astartes, but her armour was nevertheless much like a second skin to her, with or without the gift of a black carapace and numerous augementations.

"Right," she said after a couple of moments, one hand running absent-mindedly over the hilt of her powersword, the other over the bolt pistol she would not be drawing unless absolutely necessary, "this is to be as quiet as possible, assume anyone not bound to be an enemy - should they not be, well, I daresay the God-Emperor shall know his own. We'll be landing on the roof of the palace, here... " she pointed to a marking on a piece of rough paper given to her in haste by the same stuffy Guardsman, "a rooftop entranceway and staircase lead to the armoury and barracks, both of which I assume will be thoroughly ransacked, and from there through to the living quarters and, eventually, to the Governors personal chambers." She gave everyone a quick glance, all seeming as eager as herself to get moving, "we shall take the Governor alive if we can, if this is impossible," she gave a small barely perceptible shrug in the shadows of the evening and gestured to the Lighter concealed behind a towering hab-block building close at hand, "let us get to it, ave Imperator."




The Sister-Celestian watched patiently as the Lighter began it's descent toward the quite expansive rooftop of the Governors Palace, the air blowing her neatly cut hair as she stood easily at the open doorway to the flying vehicles cargo hold, the structure getting closer and closer - the simple vehicle doing well to keep its squat bulk from impacting with any of the many gargoyles, statues of religious importance, or spikes dotting the roof.

"I'm afraid you're going to need to jump!" Crackled the pilots voice over the comm-vox, "we'll see you when you call us, best of luck, and Emperor protect you."

Victorine prepared herself and jumped the last couple of feet, crumpling her legs up under her and rolling to a crouch, waiting for the remainder of her compatriots before moving with as much caution as she could toward the doorway marked on the page.

"Epsilon 25... 79-12-15... Gamma Gamma..."

She muttered to herself until the code-pad flashed a delightful green, pressing against the heavy access door until it gave way and swung open without a sound, the top of a stairway just visible.

"Stack up on me, Lisbeth take point, there'll likely be sentries posted near the armoury. Prepare your minds, prepare your weapons. Blessed are those without doubt, and we are truly His servants and his judgement."

The Celestian motioned for Lisbeth to take the fore, judging that she would be the most useful there due to her youth and size, "take us in, Sister."
Hidden 5 mos ago Post by Andreyich
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Donning civilian clothing was far less of an ordeal for the Confessor, since in a sort of sense that was the exact thing that he was doing for the entirety of his career. The part of it that was a sort of deception however, did feel quite unnatural to him. The last time he lied a real lie was oh... some twenty years ago if he remembered correctly. A vile moment, it was nevertheless a learning experience. He nodded along in concurrence with Victorine, not wanting to say anything. Anything he would say now would still be a master oration, but he knew that after all the time together the Sisters would hear even the slightest of trembles in his voice and he could not risk making his comrades lose heart just because he had. All he could do for now was memorize the layout described by the soldier before following the Sisters to the flyer so they could bring righteous justice upon the foe.




As they descended, the Confessor tested the weight of his maul. He decided it would not be suitable for the tight confines of a building, when already in a ship's corridors it found some issues. But the knives he had hoarded earlier would most certainly be of use. He had brought along his shotgun and bolt pistol, but he had neither silencer nor subsonic munitions to properly use them as anything but a light resort when the subterfuge was discovered. In truth this was a weakness of the Ecclesiarchy and it's Sororitas. Yes, stealth was not a priority for the Sisters of battle but it should most certainly be an option for rare circumstances as these. Jumping down the Confessor didn't roll, instead simply softening his landing with a knee and palm. The doorway opened, and the confessor peeked out. His heart was beating quite rapidly right now he could feel it in his neck.

Looking back and then forwards, Horacio stayed at the very back of the formation with one of the knives he had brought along drawn with the intent of cutting some heretic fool. But... this all was simply not what the cleric was prepared for. He was far too old to be sneaking about, the foe would probably be alerted by the creaking of his bones long before the sounds of violence. Pausing, the Priest scratched some of his facial hair as conflicting thoughts overwhelmed his mind. "Perhaps... Perhaps I shall stay as rearguard here. Guard the escape should the forces of the heretics be greater than we expected and we need an urgent retreat here, I will be able to cover it. I... I do not believe I can go through with this as much more than a burden." Horacio confessed, more than a little ashamed of himself. "But if you need any aid simply holler a righteous word and I shall come at once with fire for the eternal enemy." the man continued on a more optimistic note.
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Hidden 5 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by BCTheEntity
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Civilian clothing would have proven impossible to find for Alexa's frame. Fortunately, unlike last time they had been at the Governor's palace, she didn't need it: her underclothing more than sufficed, the black trousers part of her usual robed attire, the plain black t-shirt normally hidden under the bulkier robe. That, along with her headdress, hip cape, and shoes, would not be coming with her on this journey.

However, for the sake of appearances, nor would her chirurgeon's gauntlet. That needed to stay with the civilian woman who'd taken her place, to ensure the armour she was wearing didn't look incomplete. And that meant that any injuries taken could not be healed until they were back on solid ground. She was left with naught but her bolt pistol, and the sarissa blade attached to it - and as this was a stealth mission, she would not be using the pistol unless instructed.

She was rather concerned, to say the least. No armour, no gunfire unless all was lost anyway - and if they were detected, it was a certainty that a loyal governor would be slain long before they arrived. A good proportion of this was her own plan, so to think it would fail... no. It had to succeed. The God-Emperor wouldn't allow anything else. That said, their entrance was made with a Lighter - not the aerial storming Sister Dominica sought, but not the quietest possible entrance either. Nonetheless, she dropped on to the roof with the same combat roll as her leader, dispersing the impact force as much as possible, before realising that the Confessor had not quite rolled the same way. More of a heavy landing from him.

And then he came out with his true mind: he felt he should stay back, guard their exit point, rather than heading in with them. For once, Alexa frowned a little. They'd be down to three infiltrators if Confessor Horacio stayed back... then again, it may be that a smaller strike force was more appropriate for a mission like this? The point stood, however, that Horacio felt incapable of assisting, the fire in his heart not strong enough to fuel his body. And that was a disappointment to hear.

'Hmm.' She pondered for a moment, as she would likely be the rearguard of the infiltration party now. Medically speaking, there was an obvious solution, but that was reserved for those of high importance- and she realised then, her expression lightening, that perhaps it wouldn't be so unreasonable after all! 'If it would suit you, Confessor,' she stated, continuing where she left off, 'we could ask about a rejuvenat treatment for you after this mission? It won't do to have the agents of the Imperium rendered unable to perform their duties by- er. Ah.' Her expression fell again. Oh, she hoped that didn't come off as impolite; it was, she'd felt when saying it, merely accurate. They were agents of the Imperium, after all. But, well...

'...i-it's a thought, anyway,' she finished lamely, sighing as she turned to follow her Sisters into the Palace with pistol in hand and blade attached beneath it. Under her breath, she murmured 'The God-Emperor Protects,' and gritted her teeth. The Sisters Repentia were armoured in naught but faith. She would have to pray as hard as she ever had to ensure hers kept them all cloaked and hidden.
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Hidden 2 mos ago 2 mos ago Post by jbeil
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Even without her armour, Lisbeth couldn't feel anything but utterly secure in His light, utterly certain in His protection. She had almost stepped out of the aircraft rather than jumped, and rolled easily across the floor to stand, half crouched, as she accepted her orders with a silent nod. They would be the Emperor's judgement, silent and swift, rather than his flaming sword today. She envied the Confessor, already injured in the course of His duties, but pressed on anyway. All things come in their time, she reminded herself, as without a word she moved into the complex.

She raised her arm in a closed fist, the signal to halt as she peered around a corner - two guards were posted by a door - if not the armoury, then likely some other important section; how very typical of the enemies of the Emperor, to pretend at such great schemes and then give away their key position in an act of obviation. The problem was how to draw them away for long enough to get behind them, the distance too great to despatch them without giving enough time to raise an alarm. The other end of the coridoor was within sight, but to attack from that side would have it's own dangers. A pincer movement, then.

Shuffling back slowly, not even making a sound with the brushing of the fabric against her scarred skin, she addressed her sisters in almost inaudible High Gothic. "Two targets. I will go back the way we came and turn against ourselves, until I am at the far end of the coridoor. On your signal, Sister-Celestian, I will strike from the far side while you strike from here, and with His grace we will each fall upon one before his brother in treachery can make a sound. Sister-Celestian?"

One thought stuck in Lisbeth's head as she read the dark-skinned warrior's face for a reaction. I wish I still had my sword.
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Hidden 9 days ago Post by Jb
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Victorine was somewhat confused for a moment, only two? She had expected at the least a number of foot patrols throughout the Governor's palace, perhaps even a series of overlapping fields of fire? Maybe she was giving these orange-clad betrayers too much credit and they truly were a rabble of disorganised fools... or maybe it was a trap?

Caution had never been a trait the Amazonian Celestian had possessed in abundance however, and the plan proposed by her subordinate seemed to have enough merit that she was willing to give it the go-ahead.

"You have ten minutes to get into position and then we attack. I shall signal with a whistle. Go with His blessing."

She watched the Sister return back toward their entry point, looking to Sister Dominica for a moment and then back around the corner at the two sentries.

"I worry about our young comrade," she half-whispered, loud enough for Alexa to hear but quiet enough not to alert the enemy, "though I applaud her seemingly growing fanatacism, praise be to Him on Terra."

A smile accompanied her words, turning into a snarl as she eyed the two oblivious targets, her own religious fevour growing inside her with each passing moment, one hand finding the hilt of her sarissa and sliding the curved blade from its sheath.

The allotted time had passed - Victorine would attack now and trust in Lisbeth and in the God-Emperor to keep her alive - the Celestian placing two fingers within her mouth and producing a shrill whistle, already turning the corner to throw herself at the nearest guard.

Shaken abruptly from their reverie the closest protector raised their las-weapon in - Victorine noticed with some consternation - unwavering hands and pointed with all the calm of someone assured of their purpose straight toward her.

It was slow... far too slow...

Every Sororitas was at the peak of mortal fitness, exceeding even the training of veteran Guardsmen, and it was because of this that mere moments later the razor sharp blade slipped between a traitors ribs and right into their heart.
Hidden 6 days ago Post by jbeil
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Sister Dominica was the vessel of His judgement, swift and deadly. It was a simple task to arrive at her appointed position, and remain out of sight. She kept her knife sheathed within the civilians' clothes, preferring to avoid the risk of a shimmering light giving away their position; instead, as the whistle came, she handed herself over to Him and let her hands travel where they may. Wordlessly, the voice she had always trusted moved her to dash forwards, muscles pinging like taut elastic as she steamed towards the leftmost traitor. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the image of the great Celestian falling upon the enemy, before she delivered a stinging punch, swinging outside of her body and into the neck of the traitor whose attention was drawn by his fallen comrade.

Like cardboard in heavy rain, he folded, hands going to his neck. A failure. That blow should have killed him outright. Lisbeth silently tallied another mark against herself as she set about finishing her task. The guardsman, wheezing as he sucked unsteady mouthfuls of air into a dented windpipe, could only raise his arms up to chest height before a heavy shin struck him in the cheek, bringing him to the floor on his back before a heavily-muscled Sororitas pinned his arms to the floor with her legs. Without a word, Lisbeth's arms dived towards the sides of his head, already beginning to become slick with blood from a broken cheekbone, and plunged her thumbs through his eyeballs. There was a momentary resistance before a moist pop, and thin bones cracked as Lisbeth stirred the insides of his brains, forming a sticky, porridge-like paste of bone and mashed flesh. It gave Lisbeth a little measure of joy to know that the traitor died in horrid pain, a welcome appetiser for the judgement and purgation to come.

Her task finished, she wiped the pink jam from her thumbs on the collar of the dead soldier's fatigues, lip curled in disgust. She would not waste prayers on this one. Instead, she grabbed his dropped rifle, pulled the bolt and ejected the magazine to check the state of charge, and rammed it back into the port, satisfied. They were not part of the trinity, but las-weapons at least had the virtue of silence. Quietly, she fixed the bayonet stolen from the dead guard's belt, and nodded towards her commander. "Celestian?"
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