Part 6

Sister Thekla.  Repentia.

Sister Thekla sat cross legged in her Castigation Cell and meditated.  She meditated on her weaknesses and how she wasn’t strong enough to be the Emperor’s weapon. 

In her last battle she had personally killed three of the Edlar Corsairs but her squad had been decimated.  The Cannoness found no fault, but Thekla did.  She could not possibly carry on as the Sister Superior of the squad. 

She had to first atone for her failures.  She had wasted the Emperor’s servants that would be needed at a later time.  Now the entire Order was off to war and she remained here to receive her more than just punishment. 

At first the Cannoness had refused but eventually relented and allowed her to join the ranks of the Repentia.

Every day was a new torture to cleanse them of impurities.  Like a refiners fire she would go through the burning fires of pain and come out a tempered, more lethal tool for the Emperor. 

Then she heard armored boots coming down the stone hallway towards her cell.  Usually it was only the one pair from the Mistress of Pain.  This time there were two.

Variety was not a part of her life as a Repentia and this new situation broke her meditation. 

The metal door unlocked and swung open.  The Mistress stood there in full armor but without her helmet.  Her white hair was pulled back into a tight tail and instead of a small fleur de lys tattoo on her cheek, she had two giant ones, one on each cheek.

“Thekla, get up,” the Mistress said.

Thekla jumped up off the ground, eager to obey. 

“Not fast enough!”

One of the Mistress’s whips lashed out and struck her on the stomach.  She almost bent over from the pain but ignored it.  Pain was a part of her life now and she had to accept it, make it a part of her. Her faith would carry her through pain which was nothing more than a distraction to the mission she had to perform. 

Then a sister she recognized from the lower ranks entered.  Only she wore the gold fleur de lys of a Sister Superior.  She must have been recently promoted.

“Sister Thekla?  I’m Sister Irena.  I was told you can drive a penitent engine.”

“I was training with it before it broke down, sister.”

“Do you think you can take it into battle?”

“I believe so.”

“Answer her with more conviction!  Either you can or you can’t!”  The Mistress said.

“I cannot pilot it very well, but with the Emperor’s guidance I know I can do what is asked of me.”

Sister Irena smirked.  She put her hands on the pommels of her weapons and looked Thekla up and down. From what she remembered, Irena was an impetuous hot head that tended to act before thinking.  But she was strong in the faith and never wavered.

“Fair enough.  Bring her up,” Sister Irena said.

The Mistress tied her arms behind her and led her up the stairs to the repair bay where a red robed Mechanicum woman was working on the insides of a penitent engine. 

“Sophia, this thing working yet?”  Irena asked. 

“I believe it will function as intended,” Sophia said. 

The Mechanicum adept closed the covering to the engine and backed away. 

Irena then flicked her wrist toward the crouched walker.  The thing’s long arms were spread out as if inviting her to join it.  She knew then that this was right and good.  She was meant to be here. 

She had been installed with the neural plug that hooked into the Penitent Engine.  She climbed in and turned it on.  The clamps came down over her wrists and ankles.  The bio-monitors in the clamps cut into her flesh and drew blood.  Then she moved her head back to connect with the neural hook up.  It was one of the many reasons her head was shorn.  She was wearing hardly anything and the flesh that did show was covered in scars and cuts.  Some of them earned in battle, others by penitent torture and other by her own hand when the torture wasn’t sufficient.

As the Penitent Engine came to life she felt the sensation recede from her own body and move into the machine. 

Slowly she stood up.  She used the long arms of the walker to brace herself as the piston legs of the Engine raised its metal body to its full height.  She tested the arms, activated the giant buzz saws and then took a few trying steps.  It felt as she remembered it and adjusted quickly. 

“I’m capable of fighting,” she said, her voice coming from a loud speaker built into the war machine. 

“Excellent,” Irena said.

Thekla couldn’t help but smile.  With this machine of war now operational she could strike down the enemies of the Empire with more terrifying power.  That is all she had ever wanted: to be an instrument in the Emperor’s hands.  And now she was a more lethal instrument than ever.

*

Sister Olga Kyrinkonov.  Hospitillar.

Sister Olga sat at her bio-analysis station looking into the microscope for signs of the illness that was spreading in the poor quarters of the city. 

It wasn’t anything serious but she liked to keep ahead of things in case they turned for the worse.  She wasn’t going to be caught by surprise like a sleeping guard.

She sat back in her seat and stretched.  This wasn’t so bad.  Almost everyone was gone leaving her in peace to perform her research.  She helped out the civilian doctors when she had time, but mostly she was left to her own devices.  They’d be gone for over a year.  A year of solitude and tranquility. 

Sister Irena was too preoccupied with running the convent in the Order’s absence.  She’d forget about the lone Hospitillar over in the east wing. 

She was fully trained to be a combat medic, but her real talents lay with sicknesses and diseases.  Pathology was beautiful in its simple perfection.  How many soldiers loved the lethal efficiency of their firearms, she loved the efficiency of viruses.

What she didn’t like is how they affected human beings.  When the two met, terrible things happened.  She admired them, but wanted to wipe them out completely.  They were her enemy. 

Then her door opened and Sister Irena burst in wearing full battle plate. 

“Please, Sister.  I’m in the middle of an important study,” Olga said, without looking up from her microscope.

“It will wait.  I need you to prepare for battle.”

“Is this a training exercise?  Because Cannoness Agrippina said that I was to be left alone to my work unless there was an emergency.”

“It’s an emergency.  Get up.”

Olga looked up and saw the look in Irena’s eyes.  She was furious about something and Olga decided that whatever it was, was serious. 

She stood up and sighed.

“What’s the situation?” Olga asked.

“The Governor is a heretic and is secretly worshiping dark powers.”

She couldn’t be serious!  The Governor?  Impossible.  Dark Powers. 

Her mind flew into a maelstrom of thoughts and possibilities. 

“How bad is it?”  Olga asked.

“We’re sending servo skulls to scout the place out but we have to assume that he has his household guard and at least some of the garrison with him.”

“But everyone’s gone.  What are we supposed to do?”

“We fight.”

“But with what?”

“We have a squad of Repentia and one working Penitent Engine.  There is Sophia, the Tech Adept and Sister Honoria.”

“The Diologus?  What’s she supposed to do?”

“She’ll fight the enemies of the Emperor as is her duty.  All our duty.”

A handful of sisters against the Governor?  This was absurd. 

But what choice did they have?  By the time any assistance arrived, the situation would be over one way or another.  It was them or nobody. 

“Very well, Sister. We show them what traitors are to expect.”

Sister Irena smiled and smashed her armored fist into her palm. 

“Go get your battle kit on.  We have work to do.  Meet me in the repair bay.”

“Yes, Sister.”

Irena left and with her the courage she had felt.  They had to do something but their odds weren’t good. 

She went to her room and put on her power armor and habit.  The only weapon she had was her bolt pistol.  She had a feeling that that wouldn’t be adequate.  Once fully armored she stopped by the armory before proceeding to the repair bay.  She continued to chant the litany of strength the entire time.

The armor was desolate and only a few weapons were left.  One thing caught her eye: a heavy bolter with two drums of ammunition.  But her power armor lacked the additional reenforcements to use the heavy weapon effectively.  Without the specialized power armor, the recoil would throw her shots off to the point that it would be useless. 

There was a rack of bolt pistols, a few scattered bolters, a chain sword, and a bolter with an underbarrel single shot plasma gun. She passed all of those by when she saw on the far side of the room a solitary flamer with four full canisters of fuel.

She picked it up and checked its functionality.  She opened it up and saw it was all still oiled with no rust or corrosion.  Perfect working order.  She snapped it closed, attached a canister of fuel and headed out to the repair bay. 

When she arrived she saw Irena talking to a Tech Adept in red robes and several servo arms.  Honoria was wearing power armor beneath her black robes and she held her Laud Hailer like a bishop’s staff.  She had two bolt pistols, one on each thigh.

Eight Sisters Repentia stood off to the side with their shaved heads, cowls and rags they wore.  The Mistress stood with her arms folded and her neural whips coiled at her sides.   In the middle of the room was the enormous Penitent Engine with a sister already strapped in. 

“We’re all here,” Irena said. 

Olga walked over to a table and sat down on the edge of it.  She brushed her long robes out of the way and got comfortable. 

“We all know the situation,” Irena said. “Today will test our faith like never before.  We’re sorely outnumbered but if we put our faith in the Emperor, our enemies will be destroyed.  Our servo skull scouts have shown that there are only the normal amount of guards, their loyalties are questionable.  If they show the slightest resistance to our entering, shoot them.

“Then we go in and declare the Governor under arrest, and by that I mean we shoot him on sight.”

“Doesn’t he have to stand trial?”  Sister Honoria asked.

“If there was a higher authority, perhaps.  But I’m in charge and I don’t have the authority to try anyone.  But I can execute.”

“What are we waiting for?”  The Mistress asked. 

“Night.  I want them to be asleep when we come.  Mistress, I want your Repentia to go ahead of us, kill any guards that stand up to you and secure the front gate.  We will enter followed by the Engine.”

“Isn’t there anyone else we can ask for assistance?”  Honoria asked.

“The planetary militia is under his control.  If we ask them, they’ll alert the Governor.  We also don’t know how far this corruption has spread.  They may have turned traitor as well.”

Olga held up her hand. 

“Yes, Sister Olga.”

“I have a suggestion.  In the medical bay I have two canisters of pain nutrilizer.  It’s the gas we use to put people under for surgery.  They might make good grenades.”

Irena nodded.

“Excellent.  Take whatever you can.  Make no mistake my Sisters.  We will be outnumbered by no small margin.  We have to use every weapon in our arsenal or we will not prevail.”

“For the Emperor!”  the Mistress shouted out.

“For the Emperor!” They all said in unison.