Merry Emperors Day
"Brothers and Sisters….Faithful!"
Stressing the last word the missionary called out with a solemn tone from the pulpit of Cyrene's sole Catholic Church in the main living dome, smiling lightly as some of the people who were nearly asleep in the last rows suddenly woke up and tried to look like they were listening the whole time.
"I`m honoured to have been invited upon this pulpit to speak to you today and as such my brothers, as the local spiritual leaders, have my thanks."
Bowing her head lightly towards the three men who had visited some weeks ago and told her their idea of a joined church service, the missionary reached out, gripping the borders of the pulpit and looking down at the gathered congregation.
"I was told how this service is a sign: a bridge between old grudges and old hostilities between the three great religions of Earth and when I look down I`m seeing followers of not only those three but dozens of splinter groups sitting together, and having found their common roots!"
Giving the words some time to settle in, watching sharply how some of the people seemed to drift off to sleep again as they heard something along these lines for the fourth time now.
"I`m sure…that all of you have heard these three times already and don`t really want to hear it once again….neither do I!", smiling lightly as the last three words were amplified by the vox-staff Sister Marina was holding on the side of the church, letting her words reach every last corner of it.
"The Proudness you display when you talk about the huge achievement the mere existence of this so called "ecumenical" service is so laughable!"
She called out, noting with satisfaction how some of the faces below her seemed to grow angry at the casual dismissing.
"What you call: the final peaceful peak of humanity's religious life, is nothing!
Your idea of what humanity might be is flawed!
You are wrong if you think that the one home world…" she stressed the world sarcastically,
"…and the few dozen colonies in what you deem council space is humanity at whole!
You are Lost!
Lost in the vastness of the universe for you have lost contact with your kin among the stars!
Lost in your way of living as you take on the Aliens way without suspicion!
How can you even dare to call yourself humanity if you do not know of mankind's empire?
If your own understanding and colonization isn`t even big enough to fill a sub-sector of Imperial space!"
Her voice amplified and filled with the fire of zeal and tempered by rhetoric was hammering against each of the gathered persons ears, their heads numb for a moment as they tried to process the worlds, slowly voices grumbling beneath the rows, some whispering hushed questions: doubting on the sane mind of the women standing above them, others asking what she meant with: empire, their voices growing ever louder until the missionary called out as they reached their peak:
"You ask what the Imperium is?
By the Emperor? Doesn`t this show how dim you are in the matters regarding the universe?"
Letting the thinly veiled insult hang in the air for a moment, Flavia quickly continued before the crows became angry:
"The Imperium is the greatest empire which ever stood in the darkness of the universe!
It is worlds numbering in the millions, it`s guardsmen in the Trillions!
The holy state created by the God-Emperor himself, leading humanity out of the great Catastrophe and the long night, which nearly extinguished mankind itself!
You are asking yourself why you have never heard of the Imperium?
You are asking yourself why you have never heard of the God-Emperor?"
She waited for some moments as the people in the crowd started to talk to one another, their heads going from one neighbour to another before finally settling back on her, even if slowly and silently more and more of the gathered stood up and hurried out of the building.
"But Brothers! Sisters! You have heard of both: The Emperor and The Imperium!"
She called out triumphantly raising her arms up and smiling down at her listeners, holding up three small black books.
"Here, in your own scripture!
Then what is the Emperor? OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR!
He has given his mortal existence for our redemption!",
with a flick of her wrist the first book adorned by a silver cross flies from the pulpit and hits the ground.
"Who`s the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of slavery?
He is the God-Emperor himself, for:
There is only the Emperor
and he is our Shield and Protector!
As he has shown himself in here!",
she raises the book with the star on it, showing it to all the gathered
"God describes himself as the Protector and not in vain, one of the most important prayers of the Adeptus Sororitas goes as following:
A spiritu dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lighting and the tempest,
Our Emperor, deliver us.
From plague, temptation and war,
Our Emperor, deliver us,
From the scourge of the Kraken,
Our Emperor, deliver us."
With a grand gesture she let the second book drop down from the pulpit, her lips tugging upwards in a smirk as this earned her more dark looks from the crowd below, even more standing up and leaving the church.
"And you? Those who call themselves Muslims?",
she called out, leaning forward from the pulpit and her bionic eye flaring up and letting her literally flaming gaze sweep over the gathered.
"Don`t you believe in god having sent his messengers down to humanity multiple times, his message being reinterpreted multiple times?",
She asked in a tone which grew softer as she looked into the room and gave the still attentive listeners a small smile;
"In the ten thousand years since the founding of the empire He has sent us his messengers in the direst hours of need, when humanity itself was on the brink of extinction.
When doubt clouded the minds of His faithful,
His holy temples were burning under the laugher of madmen and the martyred bodies of those which entrusted their lives to him were covering the streets in the rubble of their homes:
Then He sent us His Saints and His Apostles!"
Raising her hands with the last book in them, she holds it over her head and looked down at those left in the building:
"When Mohammed wrote down the Qur`an he didn`t "just" found another religion: he had a God inspired mission of uniting all of man behind those words and if you have taken a look at your history, just as I did, you have seen how far faith(!) brought the nomadic tribes who gathered under the green flag of the prophet and build an empire from one corner of their known world to the other."
With a light thud the last of the three books hit the floor beneath the pulpit.
"But what is this compared to the saints of the Imperium?",
She asked in a solemn voice.
"It might appear unfair to dare this comparison…", Sophana nearly whispered into the anxious silence of the church. "…But is the factor of unfairness one that might justify silence?",
Taking a small breath her chest rose as she cried out:
"IT DOES NOT!",
Looking down at her audience which was either huddled together, courtesy of Sister Marinas all around sound System that assaulted their ears, or looking up to her either in curiosity or with genuine fascination which was glued to her every word.
"How could one compare a tiny dot of blue you call home to the golden jewel of the universe which is holy terra, dedicated to Him and His vision?
How could you compare the small areas and colonies you lay claim to and which are assaulted by slavers and pirates at all borders to the whole greatness which is the vast Imperium of Man?"
She asked in a tone which was laden with sympathy and sadness directed at the gathered, who never had the chance to walk through the towering gates of Imperial cathedrals when the cardinals and confessors said praises of the Lord soured up into the sky, never were standing next to a street when row after row of Imperial guardsmen were walking past them, their feet thundering on the stone of the street as the rumbling Leman Russ Battle tanks drove along their sides.
"Your prophets might have moved millions and set the rails for the history of your world, but what are those millions compared to the trillions of faithful who praise the Emperor on a million worlds?
They are local prophets at best, their messages stuck in your few systems as long as your technological progress keeps you reliant on the left overs of a long past xeno race! "But this isn`t true!", You will tell me, and I have read it in your Extra-net as well, but let me ask you: how many followers does your three faiths have? More than 30%...40% of all humans on earth and in her colonies at best! That leaves more than the half of humanity without His guiding hand and even more of them are even leading a miserable existence in the ignorance which spurns from the lack of faith and will sooner or later lead them to catastrophe! And what has led you to this? ", Flavia asked, not even trying to suppress her scorn as she looked down at the already thinned out wooden benches were some people were nodding lightly to her words, while others stood up and also walked out, leaving her with barely a fifth of those who sat or rather slept through her "brothers" sermons. "The "discovery" of the Prothean ruins. That was everything it took to push all three of your religions into one of their deepest crisis, the mere existence of xeno's shattered your view of the world and made people lose faith in your churches in masses!", The missionary chided as her lips quivered in barely suppressed contempt as she thought of these splinter sects of the Imperial cult not even being able to spin this to their favour. "In Genesis 1, 26-30 two very basic tenants are being told:
1. God created humankind in his own image: for He is the peak of humanity itself!
2. Fill the earth and subjugate it!: For He has given us His creation and given us the right to rule it for His Glory and the Golden Throne!
What have you done to live up to His decree? Have you snapped out of the childish fights between yourselves? Have you taken the torch of faith and carried it into the darkness of the Universe like I and my order are dedicated to do? You did nothing!",
she thundered from above their heads her bionic flaring up once more, its orange and red light reflecting from the walls closest to her as her scorching glare moved over her audience. "You had your first taste of the cruelty the universe can throw at you as soon as you started to expanding, running headfirst into the small skirmish you called:
"First contact war" taking place on the first planet you ever colonized from earth! And you lost it! Not through the weakness of man but through the ruthlessness of the Turian general, who didn`t recoil from the mere thought of using an asteroid of all things against civilian targets!"
Somewhere in the back of her mind the missionary was laughing at the dark shadows of agitation which appeared on the listeners faces and gradually shifted into an anger filled expression on some of the older faces: They were already reacting appropriately to the savagery of the xeno, now she only had to improve it and show them how glorious His wrath was in return….but this still had to be scheduled for the future.
"But how did your leadership react to it? Did they see reason after this unprovoked attack? Did they try to lead a counterattack against the xenos which had so wickedly murdered your fellow humans?",
she asked rhetorical with a soft tone, indicating a mood of "more in sorrow than in anger", before reaching out to them with open arms:
"I`ll tell you what happened! You got lulled in by the "humanity" the Asari and their sweet promise of peace: a peace with those murderers who suddenly became the upholding power of law when the System Alliance joined the Citadel space! They are nothing more than bullies and cowards, why else would they have the xenos decided to stop hostilities which had no other aim than to make a weak "new" race into slaves in all but name?
Did joining them actually improve your living? If it would have, wouldn't you be part of Alliance space now instead of sitting here on an independent colony, which may be raided by slavers any moment? Slavers who simply get ignored by the Alliance and the Citadel, which cannot even defend their own colonies and instead simply endure the "negligible" loses and attacks those batarian scum launches on other races in the name of a cultural tradition!", her words were carried through the silent room and the mixture of anger and grief was growing as small whispers went from one person to another, someone laying a hand on the mother's shoulder who's children were lost, a brother weeping for his sister who had surely found her way onto a slave market to be never seen again. In this highly charged situation Flavia Sophana said a simple sentence which was the basic truth in all situations, not that the backwards savages from outside His sacred Empire would even know:
"This wouldn't be allowed to happen in the Imperium, For it is the Imperium of MANKIND! And reaches as far as the smallest human settlement 'cause no world is outside of His reach and no human will ever be without his protection!"
After bellowing this last sentence her features shifted into a softer tone as she looked down at the small core of those who had stayed through the whole length of her sermon: somewhere between two to three hundred. They were a nice split through the whole society of Cyrene: men and women, old and young, and most importantly: they were mixed from all three faiths.
"I know this is not the Imperium of His will: you were lost for so long and have forgotten so much. But when I look down at you I see hope, I see the basic corner stone the Imperium is founded on: man and nothing but man!",
Gently, with kind love infused in every movement, she crossed her hands into the sign of the Aquila closing her eyes and looking upwards at the ceiling as a melodious song escaped from her lips and started to fill the room, its softness at total odds with her furious speech of before, but strangely soothing to all listeners:
"Love the Emperor, For He is the salvation of mankind Obey his words, for He will lead you into the light of the future
Heed His wisdom, for He will protect you from evil.
Whisper His prayers with devotion, for they will save your soul.
Honour His servants for they speak in His voice
Tremble before His majesty, for we all walk in His immortal shadow!"
Slowly opening her eyes ones again she opened her lips and only a moment later hundreds of voices called out:
"AVE IMPERATOR!"
Maybe not out of the devotion needed for a full conversion, but it showed how easily these humans could also be swayed with to indulge in a shared euphoria….a few hundred out of five thousand? It was a start.
Mrs Baker was shuffling through the dark hallways of the schola, her once plumb figure having lost quite a bit of her extra padding in the last few months: courtesy of the mandatory physical exercises and fasting the headmistress had introduced just shortly after her dreary chapel had started to fill with people who seemed to convert either from the Abrahamic religions or seemed to find the Imperial Cult, as the headmistress…missionary called it, attractive enough to lose the more critical view of religions which once brought them to atheism. Hurrying past a gathering of some older students, all of them bearing the blue sash Progena Satterfield had been first to show and snapping to something akin to military attention: their palm covering their hearths as they clicked their hills together.
Some months ago she would have been shaken by these children's readiness to subjugate themselves to a higher authority like this, but now it was merely normal making her react not much more than simply nodding to them as she walked past them, her flat heels clicking on the stone like floor and her own grey blazer neatly wrapped around her far thinner frame.
Once she might have also worried about the growing greyness her wardrobe was leaning towards but wearing something colourful in these walls was just…unfitting.
With a weary sigh she pushed the door to the teacher's lounge open, her fellow colleagues looking up from their cups and biscuits as Mrs Baker entered.
The room was still as dark as the rest of the rooms but the comfy chairs had always made the teachers gravitate towards it, making it bear the slight signs of humans choosing it as their favourite spot, reaching from a small bookshelf for Mr. Anderson and Miss Maier had put in here and which was steadily filling itself with hand written manuscripts the headmistress's two…assistants had written and supplied to the two younger teachers, to the small rack filled with wooden training swords and even spears Mr. Durand had immediately bought after leaving hospital and coming back to his job.
The whole episode about his injury was quickly solved anyway:
With having a visit by the headmistress and his return after the hospital doctors had decided he was fit to go again. But what came afterwards had surprised the other teachers just a bit at first: he immediately set out for Hailey Satterfield…. and apologized, with the reason that:
"It was no aimed hit, she only reacted in panic and got lucky or rather unlucky when she came through my defence and hit my throat by accident. It's mostly my fault for having goaded her and giving into an urge of rivalry when I felt the joy of fencing again after so many years."
Unsurprisingly the most uncomfortable person with this thing was Progena Satterfield herself at first, who still continued to blame herself for some time.
Who could hold it against the poor girl?
Two training accidents on the same day had surely left her quite distressed but from what they could see the prayers had helped her in this regard.
The fate of their driver had shaken all of them quite hard, even if only Mr Grimlay was present when the emergency service had arrived on the scene and driven her quickly into hospital, but the large amount of purple blood lacing the formerly green grass of the riding field had told most of them more than they were comfortable with.
Of course she and her colleagues had visited the officer at hospital some days later, of course the lessons had to be postponed when they were away and the headmistress was busy soothing Sister Marie.
But who could fault them, it must have been traumatic and if one person would blame herself for such an accident it was surely the kindest of the three Imperials. They quite clearly remembered her distraught expression and how the headmistress had escorted her toward her own room, carefully evading all contact with everyone else on the way.
They weren't even sure if the poor woman's nerves were able to endure a visit to the hospital in which officer D'roneus was lying until her condition got stabilized and she was able to be send to Thessia were the most modern methods of medical sciences were doing their best to wake her from her coma.
Nodding to each of her colleagues friendlily, she slipped into her usual chair and leaned back into the soft padding and closed her eyes with a weary sigh as Mr Anderson coughed politely to get everyone's attention.
As all eyes finally concentrated on him he smiled pleasantly, the shyness he had exhibited when first arriving at the schola slowly dwindling and not to a small degree thanks to the headmistress who pressed him into reading verses for the assembled audience in the schola's chapel.
"I know we all were a bit baffled, thinking the headmistress was crazy when she proclaimed to be from some sort of ancient Imperium ruled by a living god and called earth a "lost colony".",
Pausing for a moment he waited till each person in the room had nodded in turn, their emotions ranging from the eagerness of Mr. Grimlay to the passiveness of Mrs. Baker…while Mr. Durand's nose was between the pages of a fencing trainer Sister Marie had given him.
"Of course I thought it would just be the easiest way to find out on which world they were born or had their order's headquarters and….",
He stopped for a moment, his face fighting for a moment to keep calm:
"I couldn't find any!",
It blurts out of him in frustration so vehemently that his fellow teachers look at him in surprise, Mr Durand even looking up from his book as Tobias continued, his agitating slowly rising.
"And that is just not possible!
No one can evade registration completely and even if they were born on an independent colony like Cyrene: we are still sending our information about each birth to the Alliance whenever possible.
Even if….and it is only a slim chance: even if they have evaded registration at birth, they must be in some kind of organization the pure amount of books and literature they can not only recite but write down from memory alone…",
His voice quivered as he took a deep breath, and tried to stop himself from remembering the way all three of them could just sit at their wooden tables only fielding manual writing tools and start writing for hour after hour, the parchment filling with calligraphy and colourful pictures which ranged from the inspiring to the downright disgusting.
"…and…there is no mentioning of an Ecclesiarchy, Adeptus Sororitas, Imperium of Man if you don't look at some Terra Firma flyers and most importantly no God-Emperor who might be around in any modern society!
There's nothing about any of these names or institutions, not even a tiny hint of fiction or conspiracy rumours everyone seems to love so much!",
Throwing his arms up, he shifted back in his chair and looked at the others.
Reluctantly Miss Maier raised her voice, after taking a look into the otherwise silent crowd:
"Aren't you taking this too seriously? ",
She asked in a doubtful voice before quickly adding:
"I mean…isn't there another explanation…you are only searching in the totally normal Extra-net after all….I'm sure that the council has to know where they come from. It's bankrolling the whole school, so they would have to know were the headmistress is from….why would they give her anything otherwise?"
Mr Durand looked up for a moment from his book for some moments, giving a light nod as he looked at the young female teacher, not finding much fault with her logic.
"That might be true….",
Tobias said in consideration as he nodded slightly and closed his eyes:
"…but I asked my uncle about it.",
Opening his eyes once again he raised his hands in exasperation:
"He couldn`t find anything about them either.
And by the Throne: he`s a Councillor!"
With another audience the last outburst might have gathered some confused frowns, but nearly a year of exposure to the missionary and the nearly two hundred children and all the recent converts swelling their numbers even more, had left some traces in mannerism and speech, after all: where's the difference between using God or Emperor in your idioms?
"When I asked him he had only smiled lightly and promised to look into the matter, but when I phoned him a few weeks later he seemed as uncomfortable and puzzled by the whole thing as me right now. After I saw him like this he was evading my questions and he said that he would be meeting privately with the Asari Councillor, who`s the patron of the schola after all."
Taking a short breath he continued:
"It`s just….afterwards he didn`t want to talk about it again and made it quite clear to me that it was a matter which doesn`t concern me."
"So we are at a dead-end?",
Mr Grimlay finally chimed in, his fingertips drumming idly on the arms of his chair, as he thought about this for a moment and slowly said:
"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.",
He quoted in a solemn tone, his eyes calm and collected, hiding a small agitation beneath their silver grey iris.
"You can`t be serious! You don`t want to tell me that all the hogwash about their so called Imperium or God-Emperor is true. We can`t be some kind of colony: we have fossils which let us trace down our evolution over the time of millions of years.,"
Mrs. Baker snapped irritated at her colleague as she crossed her arms unimpressed by this and glared at the chemistry teacher.
"It`s only one possibility.", Mr Grimlay said curtly, looking back unflinching.
"Uhhmm….it`s not that impossible…",
Jeanette said meekly from her seat, looking a bit embarrassed as the attention of everyone centred back on her:
"I mean…there`s always the discussion about a: "missing link" and we simply lack enough evidences to silence the last doubting voices of it….and even then the evolution of the modern man is spotty….I mean we aren`t even sure if it`s one kind of human who came from Africa and spread all over our world…"
Her cheeks heated lightly as she felt Mrs Baker's disapproving glare on herself and she lowered her gaze, trying to avoid any confrontation.
"Why do you bother with this anyway?", Mr Durand said softly as he closed his book and put it back into his bag.
"There`s no reason to fight about things like this….especially not so shortly before Christmas of all things.",
He said firmly and stood up, walking towards the coffee counter and pouring himself a cup, which he lead to his lips as he leaned against the wall:
"I mean….why should this concern us? I`m just doing my job right now, enjoying all the new things Sister Marie can teach me and the students when she visits in the lessons sometimes and right now I`m only looking forward to my Christmas holidays."
Simply shrugging he took his bag and walked towards the door, just as he wanted to open it someone pushed it open from the outside and nearly sends the heavy steel plates it was made off into his face.
Looking up to him a bit sheepishly was Hailey Satterfield, smiling a bit.
This was enough to shock most of the gathered teachers to the core: When had one of these kids smiled in front of them or outside of their own little groups and ranks?
Their disbelief at this only grew as their eyes feel to the Progena`s waist, her ever present blue sash wasn't ending near the handle of her baton, which absence might have been even more unreal than the smile still on Hailey's face…and where those flowers at the side of her visor clad cap?
"Missionary Sophana is awaiting you in the chapel; she didn't have a chance yet to see you today and is expecting you in a few minutes. It might be best if you simply followed me~",
She said in such a bright and happy tone that clashed virtually with all prior experiences the teachers had with her….which might explain why all five of them quickly jumped out of their seats and rushed to the door: after all you could never know what makes this kid smile:
Maybe she would think of a batarian slave raid as amusing?
One or two teachers shook their head lightly at that thought as they followed Satterfield's quick steps through the dark passages which connected the complex of the classrooms with the central chapel.
Looking at his colleagues with a little smile, their discussion from a moment ago nearly forgotten in surprise, as he looked at Satterfield's empty belt:
"God formed humanity in his own image: if he has given us fists why shouldn't we use those against ugly four-eyes?",
He whispered lightly to his colleagues guessing correctly what they were thinking and one or two small nervous chuckles rewarded him as his own smile widened as they opened a door to the courtyard in front of the chapel itself.
From the corner of his eye Tobias saw something white and red robed wielding a long staff with a semblance of antique microphones on top of it and his smile died as she gave him an inquiring glance as her cool voice reached his ears:
"I don't remember teaching you a verse like that?"
With his smile being on the full retreat off from his face, he squared his shoulder and looks at her calmly:
"It was a moment of inspiration Sister, after all we can never be sure at which hour the colony might be attacked."
For a moment he thought a small smile might have shown on her cool features and if he really didn't just imagine it a moment before there was something strange going on.
The suspicion seemed to be holding some truth as the now slightly bigger group stepped through the door of the chapel: only to take an involuntary step back as a loud and ceremonial music suddenly assaulted their ears.
But it wasn't the music itself: it was the sheer volume of human voices which had joined in loud hymns: the words foreign but impressive at the same time, light stumbles showing that not all of the people who had gathered today even knew what they were sing or even: how they should sing it.
But that didn't matter, their hands were folded over their chest in the sign of the two headed eagle the missionary had introduced to them and as far as one could look the benches and aisles were full of people, at least three hundred or more all in all, wearing not the orange and brown work suits colonists seemed to wear all day long but the best their wardrobes could offer: the evening dress typically only reserved to birthdays or marriages.
In the middle of the whole event was one person, who stood out of it,
In the middle of singing and activity stood one white robed person, her red hair cascading over her shoulders as she slowly lifted her arms as the hymn reached its peak.
"Man! You have seen the truth! Not any Truth, but the IMPERIAL TRUTH!",
She cried out as the last notes of the hymn fell silent and hundreds of eyes looked at her and the artfully grafted golden bird of prey on her chest, both heads reflecting the light of the candles in an archaic kind of festivity, catching everyone's eyes with the red light shine of its ruby, only far too similar to the bionic eye of its wearer.
"You have embraced His Vision with open hearts and minds!
You have closed both of them against the hideous influence of the faithless and xeno!
And you have gathered your wealth and poured it into a special gift:
Not one for Him! For he has only use for your actions,
but a gift for the whole parish!"
With quick steps she walked up the few steps leading up to the altar of the chapel and for the first time the teachers noticed the big….thing which stood behind it today: a great looming contour covered by a white fabric.
The missionary's steps lead her next to it and she grasped the fabric and pulled it off, a bright shine of gold dazzling all onlookers as the great window opposite of the altar and above the high portal opened for the first time in its year of existence and let the light of a distant star shine on the master of man's picture, on a moon which orbits a distant star, light years away from Holy Terra and his golden Throne:
"The Emperor is our FATHER!...",
the missionary's voice shouted into the ears of all present as their eyes slowly opened, still pained from the sudden onrush of the golden reflection and their breaths stopped in awe and reverence as their eyes settled on the larger than life sized statue of a man…no:
The statue of a God!
A hard face was looking into the distance, dark coloured eyes were following the edge of a flaming sword, its tip pointed upwards into the future.
Dark Hair was cascading over large pauldrons set in gold and bearing the two headed eagle of Prey and forming the winged clasps for the rich red coat hanging from His back.
Its enormous chest plate was covering a muscular chest and adorned by a variety of golden skulls and red rubies which was setting the motive for the equally armoured legs, the kneecaps being covered by one side of the eagle on each side, their eyes ever vigilant on those who looked at them.
It was too much; it wasn't just the artwork, the crafting put into the statue or its opulent ornaments: the complete look of it was simply…superhumanly and for the first time the faithful of Cyrene were falling to their knees in devotion to the picture erected for His Glory!
"…and our GUARDIAN!"
But this wasn't the entire thing, far from it:
In front of the Emperor were His finest warriors: clad in gold and white ivory, their weapons and armours shining in the light the Ecclesiarchy had brought to the humans of this world.
And while they were dwarfed by the Emperor one had to see that His statue stood at six times the height of a man, filling most of the chapels back with His presence while His bulwark against Terror stood at twice the size of the largest man on Cyrene their power armor and bolters crafted in detail under the steady correction of the two Sisters.
", but we must also guard the Emperor!",
Flavia Sophona cried out as she finished quoting the most pious reformer the Ecclesiarchy ever had, her hands pointing down at the base of the group of Statues:
They were marching, boot next to boot, they weren't shining in gold but gleaming in steel, their eyes squared forward and the hands clutched around their lasguns as row after row of guardsmen endlessly marched forward, their bodies clad in the flak armour every human should have seen once in his life and their bayonets pointed forward.
Then before them came a cliff at the right side of the assemble and fleeing and falling from its edge were the enemies of the Emperor: the weak who have pledged themselves to the ruinous powers: the malformed and the corrupted in their rags and wielding crude auto guns their faces wide in terror and anguish as they wailed silently.
From the forest of proud flags the guardsmen carried were running not only those but also the xenos, wicked and crude their disgusting and animalistic appearance only from time to time would appear one that seemed familiar…having mandibles….bearing four eyes or crests on top of their heads all of them crafted to show the real wickedness of the leering and cowardly xeno.
With a smile on her face the missionary raised her hands to the assembled audience and a thundering: "Ave IMPERATOR!", erupted from hundreds of throats even the teachers finding themselves joining it while their sweat started to stick to their skin they themselves being dissolved in the euphoria the moment rose in each of them.
None noticed the particular way the rows were set, no one saw how those closest to the group of statues were sitting in special box on the aisles and no one noticed that many of them could be seen all around the colony on election posters:
Then sitting in the church were nearly all of those who lead Cyrene's Terra Firma movement.
But all eyes were on the women in white robes, all eyes were concentrated on her face as her lips moved lightly and a soft whisper ran through the room:
"Merry Emperors Day"
One year later, 2185 CE
Staff Lieutenant Fletcher reached up for his collar as the door of the small prayer room closed behind him, opening it lightly he took a deep breath before kneeling down on the thin mattress which covered the floor.
Because the SSV Verdun was only a frigate and as such far too small to fit real quarters for each officer but by stroke of luck he was able to talk the captain into letting him use this small cabinet as a prayer room….it had its perks to be widely seen as one of the "madmen" from the 24th fighter Group.
Touching the interface he had attached to the wall in front of him a picture slowly started to build up in front of him, the holographic display connecting to his recipient and as it finally went through the buoys at the Relays he bowed down as a voice asked him.
"You should be proud and rejoice…",
As the so familiar sentence reached his ears he crossed his palms on his chest and looked up into the glowing bionic of Missionary Flavia Sophana, replying with deep faith:
"…for there is no greater glory than a lifetime of dutiful service and in the end every sacrifice will be living on in His memory…. Ave Imperator.",
He finished softly and saw the approving nod of the one person who had given him such a deep guidance in his life and he listened respectfully as she asked:
"You wrote me that you intend to bring your ship to Cyrene?",
she said one eyebrow rising lightly at the idea.
"Yes honoured missionary… I would beg of you to…to…bless it in His name….I know that my comrades have not yet seen His light but… ",
his voice took on a tone of insecurity as he feared to have angered the missionary with his daring but he only got a light smile in return.
"Fear not, they are simply heathens and haven't heard his words yet, they are neither damned nor lost but only in need of guidance. I'll prepare a ritual of blessing in combat for your ship Thomas.",
The way she said his name made him blush quickly, not because of her looks: he had quickly grasped how far older she was than she really looked, but because of the approval it carried.
"Might you be victorious and bring destruction to His enemies.
The Emper-the Emp-pro-tt-ec-"
His blood ran cold as the calm voice was suddenly torn apart by static, the picture dying down and the voice garbling and desacralizing his most basic prayer as his fists clenched and his knuckles turned white.
He waited…a minute…an hour….his shipmates were pounding on the door as he slowly stood up: cold fire burning in his eyes:
She wouldn't break off right when invocating His name and no malfunction would either last so long or stop the missionary.
Something was amiss and he would be damned to the warp before he let His servants be stopped in their path.
As Thomas Fletcher, faithful of the God-Emperor, stormed out of the room, pushing his crewmates aside and against the passage's walls his eyes were set on the route to the bridge and his mind was filled with one simply thought:
Through all our means we follow the Emperor's Command.
