GLORIA
LITANY I
The missile exploded sending another gout of dirt into the air before it rained down on the feminine power armour suits below.
"They're still short," Sister Verona said, stepping down from the firing ledge of the trench. "Gunners must be new or blind to be so bad."
Sister Superior Gloria nodded, also shaking pieces of dirt from her uniform white hair, which all the Sisters shared along with similar faces. She leant against the back wall of the trench, others of her squad kneeling in prayer or cleaning their weapons: consecrated bolters and promethium-spewing flamethrowers. They were unconcerned about the Orks terrible artillery.
"The Green Skins aren't known for their skill, or intelligence. If they had either," Gloria's face hardened, "they would have attacked us by now."
Her command was small, just a platoon of Sisters covering a broad front. At least plenty of time had been available to occupy the trenches an Imperial Guard Regiment had dug before they were routed by the Orks. Her platoon had been part of the counter-attack and now it was the Orks turn to try and take the position back. They obviously didn't know how small a force they faced, otherwise they would have attacked. The time they gave her allowed her troops to get into position, make some improvements, and mark their fire zones; so when the Orks did come it would be into a hail of bolter fire.
"Maybe they wont, Sister Superior." Verona said. "They could just be content with firing rockets at us. We inflicted many casualties amongst the Emperorless."
"They will come, don't you worry. Continue to watch the sector, I'm going to check on the other squads," Gloria replied. Verona nodded and Gloria walked down the trench, moving casually in her dark red power armour, tan velvet skirt swaying with each step. Upon the skirt were quote of Imperial Code that never failed to steady her resolve, and an image of a saint, and the mark of the Inquisition. The ikon of the Inquisition, a silver bar and gold skull, hung on an Adamite chain around her waist. By her hips, slung, were her bolt pistol and a mighty Eviscerator. She had seen the massive chainsword in action in the hands of the Repentia Sisters and attained permission to wield one herself. In her platoon it was the only weapon that had a chance of penetrating the armour of a tank or dreadnought. A great responsibility for a Sister Superior.
As she passed down the trench Gloria greeted each of her fellow Sisters. She had been their Superior for two campaigns now and knew each warrior well. Some she knew better than others, like Sister Rachael.
"Ho, Rachael," Gloria greeted, "Any activity?"
Sister Rachael, a legend not only in the platoon but the entire Convent, was standing on the trench in full view of the enemy. She turned around carelessly, holding the bulky red body of a heavy flamer in her hands. The Sister shrugged.
"What's that?" Gloria asked, pointed, with a smile on her face, to a glowing stick protruding from one side of Rachael's mouth.
"Narcweed of some kind," Rachael shrugged again, her personality was blasé, "Got it from a dead Boss."
"Looting from vermin isn't allowed," Gloria frowned, hardly meaning it however. Rachael was a Sister apart from the others, fully exemplified when another Ork rocket careened into the ground and exploded. Gloria and the other Sisters ducked reflexively, faithfull in the protection offered by their power armour but still cautious, whilst Rachael did not flinch or batter an eyelid despite being closest to the explosion and its target. Not a single piece of dirt marred her perfect armour.
"Dammit," Rachael swore. Her cigar had gone out.
"You should get down," Gloria urged hearing the whistle of another incoming missile.
Rachael hoped lightly into the trench, the missile exploding exactly where she had been standing. As debris flew by the Sister grabbed a smoking shard of metal and relit her cigar.
"Aim's improving," Rachael said.
"Yes," Gloria agreed, "then they will attack soon."
"Good. I hate waiting. Can't burn the snots to cinders if they stay away," turning Rachael yelled out: "Green belly cowards!"
Gloria thought for a moment. Rachael's weapon had the shortest range of the platoon, and was the only functional heavy flamer left. Orks were tough and hard to take down. She needed Rachael in the best possible position for her weapon to inflict the greatest damage on the enemy. There was just a point.
"Rachael, take your squad," Rachael had been breveted to squad leader after the first had died in the counter attack, "and replace Sister Tie's squad at the Hump."
"I was thinking just the same, Gloria." Rachael said, one of the few Sisters who had the familiarity to withhold Gloria's rank when addressing her. Gloria was the only person in the Convent who did not call Rachael Sister Rachael. "Position's got the best field of fire and can rake up and down the trench. I'll hold it, don't you worry."
"I never do," Gloria replied grinning and clapped Rachael's shoulder pad. "Now get moving."
Gloria continued her inspection, having to take cover more often as the number of Ork rockets steadily increased and their aim got better. No casualties were caused to her Sisters but they were kept away from the firing ledge and that meant the Orks could get close before they had to stop firing the rockets.
Short-range firepower was what the Sisters excelled at however.
Gloria returned to Sister Verona.
"Any time now," Verona answered the unspoken question. It was at that moment that the whine of rockets ceased.
Gloria drew out her bolt pistol.
"Listen up, Sisters!" she shouted up and down the trench, "They're about to come and try to retake this position. We shall not let them! Those green maggots are an abomination to the Emperor and it is our Duty to eradicate them from the Empire! Take your positions!"
The waiting Sisters snatched up their bolters and stepped up onto the firing ledge, leaning their bodies into the hard ground and aiming their deadly weapons.
"For the Emperor!" Gloria shouted.
"The Emperor!" echoed her platoon.
"Here they come!" one of her Sisters shouted from down the trench.
Up from where they had crawled a long line of green rose, large and muscled Orks, one of the foulest enemies of the Empire that had to be constantly fought against. The inhuman creatures bellowed in rage through tusked maws and started to run the final twenty metres to the line of waiting Sisters.
"Fire!"
Forty bolters roared to flaming life, sending a hail storm of death that struck down the front rank of Orks before they had covered a metre, hard bodies knocked back with limbs flailing uncontrolled.
But there were more behind. Many more, and they quickly closed the distance to the thin red line.
An Ork, cleaver in one hand, miscarriage of a bolt pistol in another, appeared at the lip of the trench somehow having weaved his way through the maelstrom of fire the Sisters were producing. Gloria, watching the progress of the battle without partaking lifted her pistol and fired sending the Ork tumbling back with dark green stains across its chest.
"Keep firing!" she repeated, walking the line, tapping Sisters on the back to let them know they weren't alone. In the heat of battle tunnel vision was common, the warrior only thinking about what lay directly in front of her.
Black shapes flew through the air towards them. Grenades. The Sisters ducked behind the ledge, those that didn't suffering the consequences as the scrap iron cans exploded releasing their makeshift but deadly cargo of rusted nails.
"Back to the fine," Gloria leapt up to the firing ledge. Now was the critical moment. Through the dissipating smoke and dirt the Orks appeared as numerous as ever. Gloria fired as rapidly as she could sending many foes to hell, the firing around her increasing as more Sisters returned to the line.
But it wasn't enough and the Orks were too many. Bellowing they leapt into the trench, thick arms and meaty fists knocking the lithe Sisters aside before shooting at them point blank. The Sister's power armour saved many of their lives but not all and steadily the Sisters were driven back and isolated from each other.
Gloria discarded her pistol and hewed with her Eviscerator. Bloody green limbs tumbled away and bodies piled at her feet. Yet she was forced back. A grenade from a compatriot allowed her to disengage and she collected a group of survivors and rushed down the trench to where Rachael was.
The Hump was still holding. Rachael, one foot planted on the ground outside the trench, the other on the ledge was spraying the approaches to the Hump with her flamer. Dozens of charred Orks smoked on the fire-blackened ground. Half a dozen bolter armed Sisters continued to fight.
Rachael noticed Gloria's coming and called out. "We got 'em here, but if they bring up a tank or 'can…" she needn't complete the sentence. If the Orks had armour of any kind the Gloria knew her position would be wiped out. Already it was overrun.
Where were her reinforcements?
Sisters from the other side of the Hump had also retreated to its safety giving Gloria one large squad to defend the location with. She could hear firing from other parts of the trench so more of her platoon were still alive and fighting. For how long she didn't know. The Orks would concentrate on wiping out the small pockets before turning their attention to her weakened command. They were afraid of Rachael.
She couldn't stay in position however. Eventually her force would be destroyed. Her Sisters needed rescuing.
"Rachael!" Gloria called.
"Yo!"
"Get down here. I want you in the lead for a sortie up the trench. We've got to pick up stragglers."
"Understood," Rachael hopped into the trench, her place taken by a pair of bolter armed Sisters. She took point; Gloria behind with a bolter picked up from a Sister who needed hers no longer and two more Sisters following with grenades.
Rachael set the pace, without much caution. Her style was to attack fast, having been in a Dominion squad until transferred to Gloria's platoon, and not give the enemy time to react. For many an Ork she was the last thing they saw, if they saw her at all, as she emerged from smoke or around a zigzag and flamed them into blackened piles of bone.
One of the accompanying Sisters fell, shot in the back. The other turned and exploded the Orks gut with bolter rounds and then it was hand to hand as four large Orks jumped into the trench from outside.
"Bring it!" Rachael shouted; the Ork's huge face was right in hers, the monster's fetid breath crashing over her face like a cesspool. She let go of the flamer and grabbed both the Ork's tusks and slammed her forehead into the monster's. It groaned and staggered back, she adding in a kick and pulling free a shotgun like weapon and firing it, opened a cavity in the Ork's stomach.
Gloria was knocked to the ground, her Eviscerator too unwieldy to use swiftly in the trench. Her assailant, shrunken Imperial Guardsmen heads dangling from a necklace of finger bones, leered down at her and pulled out a knife as long as her forearm. She used both her hands to grab his wrist, he laughed at her and used his other hand to punch her in the face, stunning her.
Gloria could see the knife about to fall and end her life when it stopped jerkily. She looked at the Ork, thick blood began to pour out of its maw and it fell over, dead. Behind stood a bruised and battered Verona who leant down, a hand out in offering.
"Let's go."
Gloria took the hand with vigour and was pulled up. She picked up her gun, Rachael and the other Sister were alive and the Orks dead. Verona had brought two more Sisters with her.
"Any more?" Gloria asked.
Verona shook her head. The question was unnecessary, if there had been more they would have been with Verona.
"Ok, back to the Hump."
Gloria took lead, Rachael in the rear, giving off bursts off flame to keep the Orks distant.
Then her worst fears were realised. They heard it first, a heavy grinding noise that could only belong to a big, inefficient, Ork engine. The Sisters looked over the trench ledge and saw a pair of garish tanks slowly making their way to the trench. There was nothing to stop them. Gloria had left the Eviscerator behind, forgotten it. She cursed herself.
"Time to withdraw," Verona offered.
Gloria glared at the Sister angrily, more of the anger directed at herself for failing to defend the position, knowing that Verona was right. They couldn't destroy the tanks.
Deflated, Gloria sagged against the trench. So this would be her last command, she would not retire from the battlefield until all of her remaining Sisters had managed to do so safely. That would mean her likely death, rushing one of the tanks with a grenade in an impossible attempt to damage it. The kind of sacrifice Martyrs were glorified for.
In the sky she could just make out the orb of the planet's sun through the shifting haze. She didn't even know the name of the planet, it was just some designation to her, VK-49z. An infestation of Orks; she had been unable to stop.
The Emperor would be displeased.
"By pairs then –" Gloria started.
Then the field grew brilliant white, as if the presence of the Emperor himself had arrived.
Then followed the sound and the shockwave.
The Sisters fell to the ground, stunned and deafened. Their bones ached, ears rang, and stars danced before their eyes. It took them long minutes to recover, no bullets or knives attacking them.
Rachael was the first to regain her senses. She went to the ledge and peered over before hurrying back to Gloria, tugging her to the ledge.
"Look!" she shouted, still half-deaf, and pointed.
Gloria, followed by the others, looked over the ledge in wonder. Both the Ork tanks were smouldering ruins, hardly tanks at all any longer but pieces of shredded metal amongst the horde of blasted Ork bodies.
"What in the Emperor's name did that?" Verona asked.
"Orbital Strike, Sister," came the reply from behind them.
The Sisters turned and saw a lanky man smiling down at them condescendingly. He wore an ankle length black coat and cap that had no adornment except for the symbol of the Inquisition. Behind him was a squad of black armoured Stormtroopers, his bodyguard. Around them more Stormtroopers were advancing.
"I'm afraid your expected reinforcements failed the Emperor and had to be cleansed," the Inquisitor said blithely, the hundreds of lives meaning nothing to him, "I saved you because…" he looked at Gloria, "My psyker believes that you are important. Important enough that my superior has ordered what remains of your tattered force to accompany me to Terra Fuego."
Gloria, nor the others, had heard of the planet. They were still overcoming the shock that their lives had been spared by a powerful figure in the Imperium. Inquisitors were justice as it were.
"There is an insurrection brewing Sister, and it is your duty and obligation to defend the Empire from heresy! You have half an hour to be at my dropship before it departs."
The Inquistor turned on his heels and strode away leaving the confused Sisters to stare at each other and wonder what was in store for them on Terra Fuego. They also wondered by Gloria had been picked out. Why was she important?
Gloria too wondered and could find no answer.