The Emperor's Tithe. Everything.
::::
"I tread the path of Righteousness. Though it be paved with broken glass, I will walk it barefoot; though it cross rivers of fire, I will pass over them; though it wanders wide, the light of the Emperor guides my step."
- Sermon On the Road to Gathalamor
::::
From the ramparts of the small mission Lyn Tempra stared at the lands, her hand shading her eyes from the punishing light. As ever, the twin suns burned the world. The mean temperature was forty-five degrees. It was so hot the very air buzzed. Today, the mercury sat at fifty-two, and it wasn't even mid-day yet. It was a brutal landscape - gravel and dirt and heat-rotted mountains. An endless, cloudless blue sky blazing with twin suns; Hacha and Torsa.
There was nothing to see, only gravel and heat-haze. Only trace of civilization was a line of white-printed stones, leading from the gateway off into the blurry horizon. The Road of Review, they called it. It led to the nearest town, Otal, which constituted the largest and most prosperous town on this side of the Uriah II.
The Ecclesiarchy had rediscovered the planet, now named Uriah II after the famous missionary, a few years prior and had begun the conversion of the indigenous population. It hadn't been always been easy. The locals practiced many forms of primitive idol worship, and some refused to change their ways. Even when presented with truth of the Imperial creed by the preachers of the Missionarus Galaxia, or, offered violent death as a heretic at the hands of the Frateris Militia.
"Sister Superior!"
Tempra turned from the sun-tortured landscape and looked back into the mission. The buildings before her were typical of Uriah II. Heavy stone blocks coated with a veneer of mud. Water was such a rarity that the mud was created from the villager's urine. The liquid was so precious that pots and vials of urine were actually used as a form of currency. The buildings had a strangely organic look to them. Nothing like the vast, mountain-sized cathedrals of Terra.
Tempra could feel the vast distance from holy Terra deep within her soul.
Almost directly across from her was the temple entrance. Above the small doors was the symbol of her Order - a white star atop a golden throne. Near the door was Sister Luxa, she cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted, "They are ready."
::::
Tempra rode from the mission in a wagon pulled by four clanking servitors. On the bench beside her a young novice held the reins nervously. Tempra noted how the young girl's hands shook every time she looked over at her.
"Steady novice," Tempra said, placing a blue gauntleted hand on her thigh, "Becalm yourself. Follow the stones."
"Yes, my lady," the young driver squeaked back.
Tempra glanced back, idly running her fingers over the fleur-de-lis tattoo under her right eye. In the open top wagon four battles sisters sat in Sororitas power armor of starry blue and trimmed in silver, clothes and cloaks of white, threaded in gold – the markings of the Order of the Star Eternal. They had their Sabbat pattern helmets on the bed of wagon and their Godwyn-Deaz pattern boltguns across their thighs. Bundles of chains clinked lightly. The four held hands and prayed for the safety of the mission while they were away.
::::
They rode into the hamlet of Pho with both suns blazing on opposite horizons, casting painful, shadowless, horizontal light. The sisters had put on their helmets and the young novice wore a pair of crude tinted goggles and pulled her sun-hood tight. The wagon clanked on, coming to a stop in the centre of the hamlet.
The sisters jumped out, landing lightly on their armoured feet. Tempra stood up, surveying all around her. Satisfied, she dismounted and waved at the novice. The young girl whipped the leads and the servitors clanked up to speed. The wagon rumbled away.
"Luxa, go left and watch the rear exit. Malle the left alley is yours. Contessa, you get the right. Tremain stay here and cover those windows. Emperor bless and guide you all."
"The Emperor protects," the four replied and walked their separate ways.
Pho had been refusing to pay its tithe. She had come to speak with, and if needs be, execute the hamlet's headmen, Rosell. The building before her was typical of Uriah II. Heavy stone blocks coated with a veneer of urine-mud. A low door and two small, shuttered windows fronted the building.
Tempra raised her boltgun, checked the load, and quickly chambered a round. She let the weapon hang from a strap and walked to the door. Before knocking she glanced at the three sisters she could see. Their presence gave her confidence. She knocked hard.
"Headman Rosell, open this door," she shouted, the admitters in the helm transformed her voice into a thunderous roar.
She hammered her metal fist against the door again, "Open it, I say! Open it in the name of Terra!"
After a minute of pounding, she stepped towards sister Contessa and was about to signal her to join her when the door was blown apart behind her. One mere half step had saved her life.
Tempra swung herself down and pulled her boltgun up. From across the roadway, Tremain opened fire into the demolished doorway. Her bolt-rounds glowing hot. The sounds of shattering ceramics echoed.
Tempra pulled a frag grenade from her belt and waved Tremain off. Over the vox she said, "Sisters, advance in five seconds. Full assault pattern. Bring me Rosell, alive. Domine, libra nos." She tossed the grenade backwards into the building. The explosion rocked the walls and blew open the shutters.
Tempra jumped up and rushed the building. Part-tavern, part-town hall it was the hamlet's main building. Her helmet's optics easily pierced the smoke and gloom, and she saw broken and upset tables and chairs. Ceramic debris was thrown everywhere. She saw a figure rush behind the bar. She raised her boltgun to her shoulder and fired. The big gun spat fire and tore fist sized holes into the bar. The figure leapt up and levelled a shotgun at her. She was quicker, putting a round through his forehead.
The wall beside her exploded as another shotgun was fired at her.
Tempra ducked and returned fire. A third shooter open fired and she felt hard rounds ping off her armor. She dropped herself to the floor and fired through the debris between her and her target. The ceramic tables and chairs blow apart in a hail of shrapnel. Contessa rushed low through the doorway and banged off two short, controlled bursts; killing one of the shooters and driving the other back. Tempra rose to one knee and nailed the final shooter with a punishing burst.
She waved Contessa to the right and moved the left. Tremain appeared in the doorway, hunkering down, protecting their avenue of retreat. Shots could be heard from deep within the building.
Luxa's voice came over the vox, "Whatever you're doing Sister Superior, keep it up. They are fleeing your guns and running into mine. Hah!" she shouted suddenly, the report of her boltgun sounding over the vox, "One one flees the Emperor's wraith!"
::::
It didn't take long for the five battle-hardened sisters to clear the building. They found Rosell hiding in the precious urine pots. Tempra pulled him out of the building, soaking wet, and threw him down on the roadway. Half a dozen other survivors lay next to him. They stared at the armoured sisters with a mixture of terror and pride.
A dozen hamlet occupants had started to gather nearby, they watched the scene unfold without a sound, seemingly without emotion. Tempra took off her helmet and passed it to the waiting novice. The young girl held it close to the chest.
Tempra touched the tattoo under her eye and looked at the crowd before her. Clearing her throat she said, "Rosell of Pho, for refusal to meet your tithe levy and your attack on members of the His Holy Majesties Adeptus Sororitas, there can only one punishment. Death." She leveled her boltgun between his eyes. He made say something, but his head disappeared in a blast of fire.
She straightened up and announced to the other survivors, some now coated in Rosell's brain matter, "You will be punished for your traitorous behavior today. Sisters, bind them and shackle them into the wagon."
The other sisters did as they were told, working effectively and efficiently. They harshly stripped the men naked and bootless, and chained them to the wagon.
Tempra turned to the hamlet-folk, "Though you refuse to understand, you owe everything to the God-Emperor. Everything! And all he asks for in return is your soul, and a tithe of your labors. I hope to never return here. However, if you continue to refuse to pay your tithes ... I will return here and execute you all as traitors to the God-Emperor of Mankind and His Glorious Imperium. Ninth-tenths of your urine will be delivered to Otal in two days time." She held up two fingers for all to see, "Two days."
With that she mounted the wagon and rode off into the heat-haze. The six naked men shuffled away into the blistering sun, leaving a trail of blood from torn feet.