Hi! This is my first fic, so go easy on me. It's meant to be a sort of prologue for a story that I've thought out, so if things seem unexplained here, do stick around for the next few chapters or whatnot. Thanks and review!

Prologue

I swing my bolter up and let the bullets fly at yet another cultist. I've lost count of how many of them I've killed so far, but it surely has to be a sizable number. I've forgotten what's the name of the planet I'm defending. If I'm not wrong, the reference number has a large number of sevens, but remembering the planet is immaterial at this point. What really matters is that the Chaos advance is stopped here.

Whilst I was still new to the Adeptus Sororitas, I had the pleasure of meeting a certain commissar of an Imperial Guard. He was an ageing man, with more than his share of battle scars. My squad was working with his unit in the invasion of an ork world. In between offensives, during a spate of idle conversation, he said something to me that I never really understood till now.

"It's strange, Sister. I've fought for the Emperor for so long that I can barely remember the campaigns that I have fought in. Yet it is only at this time do I really feel that I have given my all for His conquests."

At that time, his words seemed far off and distant. I was younger and more idealistic then, and felt as if I would never forget anything that I have done in the service of the Immortal Emperor of Man. Yet now, though I am glad to say my faith in Him has never faltered, I gradually begin to feel what the scarred commissar meant. To have fought long and hard in His service allows one to understand and appreciate the complexities and righteousness of the Imperium of Man. If you have participated in enough battles to make the different campaigns all meld into an endless series of blood and bullets, then you can really say that you've spent your life in the service of the Emperor.

I've had ten years in the front lines as a basic Battle Sister, but I believe that's quite a long period of time, considering that most other sisters would have either been promoted to a higher rank or been killed. Why I've chosen to be here is really quite a mystery to me. I passed up several opportunities that could have had me join the Celestians, even. Still, it's been an informative and enriching ten years. I can tell the difference between the sound of a Space Marine or Chaos bolter, or the hum that comes from an Eldar Falcon Grav Tank which has a starcannon or not. Yes, it's been educational in a wholly different sort of way.

The roar of battle brings me back from my reminiscing. Sister Superior Kathia is shouting at Sister Illyana to aim her flamer at an approaching Chaos marine squad. I wish I could stay and look at the effects, but the squad of Imperial Guard nearby looks like they need help, from the way that the formation of Raptors is making their way towards them. I shout a warning to the sergeant there, who nods his head in thanks. The guardsmen whip their lasguns and fire into the raptors, of whom several drop from the sky. Before the raptors can land and engage at close range, a squad of Assault marines literally crash into their side, causing the raptors to break formation.

I turn away from the furious melee and give the approaching line of cultists the fullest of my attention. Sophia is balancing two heavy bolters on a sandbag and firing blindly into the enemy ranks, while Jessica is pumping away with her melta gun at the accompanying rhinos. Three Chimeras pull up. Guardsmen reinforcements have arrived, but it looks like they won't be enough to stem the tide.

The revving of bikes fill the air, and the cultist ranks move slightly, revealing the approach of a large number of Chaos marine bikers. They stumble into our minefield and take some casualties, but the majority of them make it over. Our trenches are far too deep and wide for them to make it over safely, so once the get here, they hop off and engage in hand-to-hand combat.

Cursing, I pick up a discarded chainsword just in time to block a strike by a power claw of a chaos marine. Holding him in a dead lock, I gradually let myself be forced backward, before taking out my bolt pistol and shooting him several times through the eyeslit. Blood spurts forth in a crimson fountain, staining my armor, but I'm just glad that the blood isn't mine. I catch another marine on my blade, saving a guardsman from immediate dismemberment. He flashes me a quick smile.

Behind me, I hear Sophia scream as a Chaos chainsword shreds through her power armor and cuts her in two. She falls messily to the ground, limbs twitching as the marine buries his sword into her face in a final coup de grace. I turn my bolt pistol on the bastard, but another of those cursed marines strikes out at me suddenly, slicing the pistol in two. Before I can register what is happening, his own chainsword hacks at my side and I am thrown across the trench.

The bolter that was hanging by me is wrecked; I can feel bits of the metal dig into my skin like shrapnel, but otherwise, I'm lucky to be alive. I painfully pick myself up, digging the chainsword into the ground for balance. A nearby Chimera begins firing into the trench, killing the marine. The beleaguered Guardsmen begin clambering out. Retreat to the city! The cry runs out. I see the commissars herding their men back into the chimeras, so it can't be a sudden panic in the ranks.

Jessica helps me up. Her face has a nasty burn, which I believe was caused by her melta gun exploding due to it overheating. She has a habit to forget about overheating her weapon, but luckily for her, she isn't lying dead in the trench like Sophia. I see Kathia and Illyana in the distance, and I'm happy they've made it through. But with Sophia's death, our original nine-woman squad has been reduced further to four. Still, I shouldn't complain. At least we weren't decimated like most of the Sisters of Battle when our landing Thunderhawks were attacked in the beginning of the campaign.

Jessica and I clamber into a Chimera. The vehicle is so full that we have to sit on the floor, but we made it in. The treads of the troop transport whirr and grind as the vehicle begins to move from the abandoned trenches. I can faintly hear the thump thump thump of bolter rounds hitting the Chimera, but the armor will hold against light rounds. I hear the moan of the injured and I feel glad to be only hurt in the small way that I am. I see a medic bend over Jessica and hand her a cooler pad, which she holds over her burn. Now, not in the heat of battle, the burn seems a lot worse than it looked like at first. It extends down into her uniform and armor.

"Are you sure you don't need more medical attention?" I ask Jessica, tentatively touching the cooler pad.

She grunts, turning away. "It's not that bad. It can wait."

Knowing her, it's worse than that. But what's probably worse is the sting of defeat that we've experienced today. We've lost control of land that belongs to the Imperium, we have lost land belonging to the Emperor. I have no doubt that we'll retake it soon, not only because of my faith in Him, but also in the scheduled arrival of more troops. But the anger and guilt still refuse to go away. It is said, "Hatred is the emperor's greatest gift to humanity". It's true. Every single one of us in this Chimera, and in the Imperium's war machine, hates the Chaos, and that gives us a single bloodyminded objective of crushing this menace. Emperor willing, we will retake this planet. We will.

. . . . .

As I said above. Review!