The Repentia are known for many things. Their fervent search for absolution through suicidal violence. Their unwillingness to back down from the Emperor's foes so much so that the Mistress of Repentance is required to be present not so much to urge Repentia on- but rather to guide them, to steer their fervent desire for repentance into a direction useful in battle. One thing they are not known for is their longevity.
When I took the Oath of the Penitent, I fully expected to die for the Emperor in a matter of months- if not less. I took up the Oath. The Cloth and the Eviscerator. A non-existent outcast from my sisters. I took up the fury of the Repentia; I lost myself in holy abandon in my search for atonement. But as the weeks turned into months and unbelievably the months turned into years and even those turned into a decade, I was denied the fulfilment of my Oath.
I had sped across the molten plains of Octavia while blue-skinned xenos poured unreasonable amounts of firepower upon us. And survived.
I had fought traitor marines, giants with blood soaked armour while Imperial fleets bombarded the planet with lance strikes. And survived.
Even the devastating destruction of a Baneblade did not falter the steps of myself or several Repentia.
At the time I thought I was cursed, my sin so great as that I would even be denied death to atone for it. Looking back now, I see only the Emperor's hand working unfathomably.
There was a battle upon Adjutants Grace. No, a massacre, really. You won't find records of it as they have been stricken; but I remember it.
It had been a foul year, that one. Warp storms were giving ships trouble in their navigations to Adjutant's Grace, resources had been cut and severe rationing had been enforced as the planet still needed to meet the Imperial tithe, regardless of conditions. Communiqué via Astro-telepath was sporadic and I hear that some messages sent from the planet are even now only reaching their intended destinations.
I learned all this of course after the massacre- I will call it nothing else. Repentia do not require mission briefings; only to be pointed in the direction of the foe. From what I've managed to glean since then is that Prioress Ullen had taken it upon her fiery self to personally see to a reported desecration of a minor shrine in an out-skirting city that had been much neglected. Back in it's heyday, the shrine of Saint Kallix had been a common pilgrimage site. It marked the place where the archenemy had suffered a great defeat and the ground sanctified and the shrine built upon the ground to forever hold the enemy at bay. Such stories passed into legend and were mostly forgotten through time. As I said, Repentia do not require a brief, only a direction. I learned this after the massacre.
It had taken several days to reach the shrine; Mistress Inderwal never let up on her whips, she had an unerring aim and a tireless arm. Needless to say by the time we reached the site, the Repentia had been whipped into a frenzy. When Mistress Inderwal did not whip us, we took it upon ourselves to cut ourselves with sharp stones we found, crying scripture as we went. I did not notice the battle sisters with us, but I know they would have regarded us with both admiration and unease- I had done so myself, before the Oath.
Our convoy paused at the square before the shrine. As was her custom, Prioress Ullen would have surveyed the surroundings. Some called it a wreckless habit that constantly put her in danger unnecessarily but she had said that it was better for a potential battlefield to be viewed by faithful eyes.
We did nothing for some time at this time. The air was still and the only sounds were the rumbling of the Rhinos and the wailing of my fellow Repentia.
Then came the report of heavy weapons.
Even over the engines and shots and wailing, I heard the familiar wet, sucking explosion of a man being turned inside out. That same instant brought the bellow of Prioress Ullen ordering an advance.
Mistress Inderwal's whip came down on my back and we ran forward with abandon.
We rounded the building we had been behind and I caught my first glimpse of the shrine. Desecrated would have been a mild word. The place was in ruins, scripture scratched out and blasphemous words etched into golden stone statues. We passed one of the shrine guards, wounded on the ground, her body shielding a relic she had obviously saved. No one paid any heed to her, I assume Prioress Ullen had ordered everyone forward to engage the foe as no Rhinos stopped either. And such a foe.
They were gray clad monsters. From atop a building, two machines that reminded me of fearsome Penitent Engines rained fire upon Prioress Ullen and the Rhinos. The Prioress' tradition cost her her life as in moments her body was rent apart by the heavy weapons of those machines. I have head autocannon fire before and knew these weapons for what they were, but never had I ever seen them strike with such deadly power.
As we advanced it was only moments before both Rhinos were wrecked and sisters were picking themselves from the twisted metal amongst the unending hail of fire. One squad advanced towards a grey Rhino, firing as they went, stripping the treads from the vehicle and losing several sisters to the damnable fire from the vehicles atop the building for their efforts.
Mistress Inderwal tried to steer us to the building no doubt to give our sisters reprieve and a chance from the guns; but she halted our charge and instead whipped us to grey power-armoured giants deploying from the wrecked Rhino. Some later tried to fault her for her decision, but they weren't there. Even caught in the heat of battle, we could almost taste the stench of psykers. Not just one. But many. Every one of those marines that begun to tear our sisters apart was an unholy psyker. One in particular stood out; a towering giant with a skilled hand at wielding a blade I had never seen before.
Under a fusillade of bolt shot and flame in support from the only remaining squad of sisters behind us, we charged that warp tainted monster. Many of the shots struck true and the brutes squad was diminished.
Up close, he was a mockery. His powered armour held Imperial markings but this only sickened us and stoked holy rage within us. What servant of the Emperor would dare strike his most faithful?! Indignant of this, Mistress Inderwal challenged him.
Never have I seen such skill with a blade. It was less than a heartbeat and I saw our mistress fall apart in three neatly cut pieces. The brute then engaged us; unleashing a flurry of blows upon us, cutting down several Repentia in the time it took us to bring our unwieldy weapons to bear. The melee raged on until only I remained. Only I remained. The report of gunfire had ceased and I realised later that there were none of my sisters left.
I spat. I actually spat at this vile champion. Screaming curses and prayers and vows and all manner of declarations upon this enemy of the Emperor. I landed my share of blows, many were dodged or playfully knocked aside; it was when my blows landed that the giants play seemed to end. The eviscerator was heavy in my hands, cutting through air and powered armour but not seeming to land a lethal blow and when I though I had managed to evade a glancing strike and score a decapitating stroke, some force betrayed my weapon and let this giant live.
Our fight raged longer than the firefight; Fuelled by a righteous desire to see this heretic slain in the Emperors name pushed me onwards into feats of strength I did not know exist. More importantly as I see now. Faith.
I overextended myself in a wild lunge and the giant latched onto my arms- they looked like twigs in his grasp. The pommel of his weapon smashed against my face, knocking me senseless and he lifted me overhead, the bones in my arms snapped but it was nothing but a dull roar mixed in with the pain the rest of my body felt. I swear by the Emperor what happened next is true. I felt the crackling sword of the champion rip into my gut, I felt it tear up my chest and up out of my neck...The champion cocked his head to one side and what was to be a finishing stroke harmlessly passed through me. I kicked out, catching my dangling weapon and driving it into his chest plate. The massive blade stuck and chewed through his armour. I was instinctively dropped and I saw the champion stumble backwards, grasping at the weapon as it bore deeper. Unfortunately, that force which had protected him so many times before did so again and stopped the sizeable weapon from burrowing further.
My body was spent, exhausted from the trek here and the fearsome battle; my body failed my will and I collapsed as if dead. The last thing I saw before blackness took me was the grey giant tearing the massive chain blade from his chest.
I awoke in a bed to the sight of a sister hospitaller. I do not remember much of those first few weeks. Apparently, when Prioress Ullen had failed to report, a scout had been sent to investigate. There was no sign of our armoured enemy and only the birds were there to pick the flesh from our sisters. Only two were recovered from that massacre. Myself, and the shrine guard who had miraculously survived.
When my strength had recovered, I was required to brief Mistress Anse on the events.
Sister Milla- the shrine survivor gave account. She had been at her post at the shrine when it was besieged by crazed men with las-weaponry. It was no disorganised attack by some sleepers of the archenemy; they had come in great numbers, overwhelming the shrine guardians by sheer mass of bodies and fearsome brutality.
The shrine had been overwhelmed in minutes and she managed to desperately collect one of the holy relics to protect it from their vile intentions.
This news was shocking as it meant a considerable heretical cell had been established under the nose of the Ecclesiarchy.
Between the organising of investigations and mobilising of battle sisters, a significant event took place very quietly.
I was summoned to the main church. There, I was surrounded by battle sisters and faced with our new Prioress, Helena Katran and representatives of the Ecclesiarchy. Amidst wafting incense, humming servo-skulls bearing devotional messages; I was welcomed back to my sisters with open arms. The battle armour that had been stripped from me was reverently placed back upon my, fitting like a glove as if nothing had ever happened.
I wept-fully asked Prioress Katran why my oath had been fulfilled, I had seen nothing but failure. But Prioress Katran saw differently. Throughout the years, I had apparently been the subject of many miraculous occurrences, witnessed by pict-recorder and Mistress alike. The main reason was because Prioress had received a vision. From Saint Kallix herself.
I was to play a role in the Emperors plans against the archenemy on this planet.