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Battle-Sisters of the Fiery Thorn
Ave Imperator, my faith in You is my armour and my sword.
Sister Sabine prayed in her thoughts. She had recited the prayer times beyond counting since her earliest memories, ever since she had entered the Schola Progenium as a scared little girl. The Schola had burned her former life away with endless drills, lessons and sermons and shown her the way of the truly faithful. For the past two decades, she had been serving in the Order of the Fiery Thorn, defending the mankind and her Sisters against the Xeno, the Heretic and the Mutant.
Offer us strength to carry our tasks and duties, no matter how difficult the road is.
Her four Battle-Sisters were also praying. They had their own silent prayers for the Emperor to bless their mission. The Inquisitor had appointed a hive gang as the Sisters’ objective. The Scions Tempestus would attack another bunch of gangers. She had a few times fought alongside squads of Scions before, and so Sabine had no doubt they would not get their mission accomplished. They had arrived at the former planetary governor’s orbital station only recently, and they had been appropriated little space for themselves. They were not going to stay on the station for long. As fast they had finished their prayers and donned their power armour and weapons, they would head after the gang.
May only the few suffer for the benefit of many.
She had been chosen personally by Prioress Constantia to aid the Inquisitor in her purge of the hive city. Her sisterhood had equipped her with the precious powersword named the Furious Rose, which had been passing down from Sister to Sister within the Order for generations. Sabine had often used a powersword before, but none had been as well-crafted as the Furious Rose. It had a crimson tint and roses emblazoned on its hilt and scabbard. The names of the previous wielders were carved into the sword’s blade. Whenever the wielder died, her name and rank would be carved into the blade for remembering their sacrifices for the good of all mankind.
May my hand protect others and Your creation.
Sabine could trust any of them with her life, and their lives on her hands. Her Battle-Sisters were near her age and hailed across the Imperium’s dominion, but all of them had performed in their duties and hardships as expected and without failure. They all bore scars on them from training and battles.
And suffer not one heretic live a moment longer.
There was hardly a distinction between a ganger or a heretic to Sabine. The heretics were consorting with the powers opposing the Emperor of Mankind, the gangers killed, blackmailed, and smuggled people and illegal goods; both thrived in the dark and shadowy corners of the imperial society like weeds, spreading their vile roots and vines.
Ave Imperator, blessed be Your name.
She had conceived a straightforward plan to annihilate the hive gang. Hive gang’s upper leadership should be eliminated with absolute force and intolerance to raise absolute terror and fear on every level of the gang. Sabine had been passed intelligence of the gang’s possible hideouts and locations. They would flock and scatter like a knot of sparrows.
Our enemies are many, but we will prevail.
Gangs were very similar to a human body, she believed; lob off the head of the gang, and the rest should fall on its own weight. Attack their vital organs, and they would bleed to death. If any ganger tried to come between her and her prey, they would be cut down like weeds in a garden. The gangers had to be sent a message, and she had a perfect message ready in her mind.
The only mercy Daughters of the Emperor will deal to whom conspire with heretics is death.
