Happy New Year, Fanfiction!

Okay, yes, it's not New Year's, but this is my first update of 2016. And sorry for the gap. First it was finals, then it was the holidays, and I had stuff to do in the rest of the time, and, as what was originally here said, I was stuck.

But the story's back on now, and that's all you really care about, right? Oh yeah, and I finally found someone whom I believe will be entirely on-board with drawing the Sorority.

Anyhoo, here's the first chapter of 2016.

Chapter Twenty: Reversal of Fortune

Despite the setback of eighty Greymanes of the Sorority of Violence ambushing them, Backett's PDF managed to unleash their barrage on the Cold Talons, even as the skirmish still raged yards away. The rest fought well enough to kill every Death Seeker, though the soldiers in turn suffered 20 dead and another 30 wounded.

Graic, as one may surmise, was enraged by the Sisters' chutzpah.
"I AM GOING TO KILL EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THOSE HERETICAL SLUTS WITH MY BARE HANDS!" The Witch Hunter bellowed in white-hot fury, following that colorful dialogue with,
"ANYONE NOT IN DANGER OF DYING OR STILL HAVING ALL OF YOUR LIMBS, GET IN YOUR FUCKING CHIMERAS! WE'RE CATCHING THEM RIGHT NOW!"
"During the shelling, sir? Are you sure?" Colonel Loch tried acting as a voice of reason.
Taking a deep breath, Backett replied, "They're going to get away at this rate with their distraction, Colonel. It'd better we intercept them now than wait afterwards only to turn up empty."
"I understand completely sir, just worried about friendly fire."
"Fight in the real Guard. What you call 'friendly fire,' they call 'collateral damage.'" Leaving the old officer exasperated, the Inquisitor ran back to his Salamander.

The Sorority of Violence trudged through the mountains avoiding as many open areas as possible, also taking care to find other ways around zones where a round detonating above them could trigger a rockslide or cave in. Any direction they took would be vulnerable to the bombardment, for the explosions told them those Basilisks had a long range. None had yet to be killed, though a fair amount were injured by shrapnel. All in all their attempt to escape was incredibly difficult given the circumstances, many Sisters suggesting to simply find caves or go back into the woods and wait it out.

Mistress Massacre wisely listened, yelling over the din to return to their starting point.
"GO BACK TO THE WOODS! IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO MOVE FORWARD! WE'LL WAIT TILL IT'S OVER!"
She didn't have to tell them twice, for everyone immediately turned around, some literally on their heels, and began running back towards safety.

Although Backett had cooled down from his tirade a few minutes after he and the PDF had mobilized, his temper was close to reigniting. Standing in the hatch of the Salamander, all he saw were fresh craters and damaged rock walls, many still smoking. No mangled corpses of these Khornate scum. I swear to the Emperor if they escaped I will- Graic's thought was cut short when one of the sergeants in a nearby Chimera yelled over to him,
"We just passed a little bloodstain, sir. Likely a shrapnel wound."
"So did we!" another officer announced on the opposite side of the Inquisitor.
A vox broadcast in the main hold of the Salamander offered a similar statement.

Sounds like we might have something. Hopefully they've slowed down because of it.

"Mistress, look." Legion pointed to the Sorority's left.

In the distance, Chimeras could be seen going in the opposite direction of the Sisters, into the mountains.
"I'm surprised they don't see us. You'd think they would if they just looked to their left." Huntress observed, since 1,850 people was no small group to miss, even with the length the two groups were from each other.
"They might do that. And if they did, we wouldn't stand a chance against those things." Cutthroat added, making a frown on the non-ruined side of her face.
"So what're we going to do about it?" asked Bonesaw.

Massacre studied the vehicles' movement, thinking of finding a way to get behind them discreetly, but a whistling of ordnance reminded her that the Basilisks were still shooting. They're going in even as their guns are still firing? She thought to herself. Tracing the arc of the projectiles with a finger, the dirty blonde Mistress placed their origin roughly to the right, hidden by a dense thicket of trees. We'll finish what the Old Dogs started, a proverbial light bulb illuminating in her mind.
"You got a plan, Mistress?" Executioner inquired seconds after the former reached a solution.
"I do, Executioner." Turning to address the whole Sorority, Massacre continued, "Alright girls, listen. Some of you get to avenge your mothers by silencing those guns. Leave any wounded and surrenders alive. Have one tell the rest going in the mountains to come back. Once they turn around, the rest of us will get behind them and kill any resistance. We'll use whoever's left to replenish our numbers."
"I like this plan!" Lacerator eagerly drew her weapons, laughter bubbling in her mouth.
"Works for me." Said Knives.
The other Sisters expressed similar approval, with those who lost their mother in the diversion particularly zealous.
"Now get going, ladies. We need all the time we can get!" Ordered the Mistress.

Bloodmaw took charge (with some arguing) of the Sisters assigned to take out the gunners, watching them from the woods. A pile of bodies, both Cut Teeth and PDF troopers alike, was being stacked by the most able-bodied of the wounded from the fight that created those corpses. The artillerymen were still manning their cannon, and actually slowing down with the depletion of fresh shells.
"Looks like we're just gonna have to rush 'em. No sneaky options." The brunette announced to her comrades, undoing the safety of her bolt pistol, then drawing and revving her chainsword.

Private Klighton Rey of the St. Fu PDF Liberation Regiment was having a bad week. First it was trying to catch these heretics that managed to hide in his hometown of Fusmouth, playing cat and mouse with them for another few days, and now getting attacked by them and almost getting killed. He was praying to the Emperor that the battery boys had pounded the enemy to bloody dust and this whole affair would be over. For once, he genuinely wanted to just go on uneventful patrols and through inspections every month. Even though this was his first real combat-like action, Rey found it wasn't at all like what he'd heard across the galaxy in places like Armageddon or Cadia. No glorious charges against legions of enemies. No desperate last stands. Not even the Angels of Death paying them a visit. Just getting in and out of a Chimera every few hours and cleaning his lasgun, not counting the ambush which didn't even last that long.

Glancing over from his sickening job of stacking dead bodies for a moment, he saw what appeared to be the fight replaying itself, as eighty or so girls came charging at him.

Klighton didn't even flinch this time, merely sighing with,
"Oh for fuck's sake."

The shelling had ended a few minutes ago, and the Chimera formation still hadn't seen a single body. Just bloodstains. Backett was about to explode again until a voice crackled out of the Salamander's vox,
"Inquisitor?"
"Yes?"
"We request your return." The soldier on the other end tried saying as calmly as possible with a laspistol held to the back of his head.
"What happened?"
"Just please come back." His voice had a slight sobbing sound in it.
That doesn't sound good.

Facing the rest of the transports, Graic rotated his wrist with a raised finger, indicating the other Chimeras turn around. Something was clearly wrong. Pondering it, he suddenly realized why he was really returning to the Basilisks.
They turned around and captured the artillery crew.
"FASTER! IT'S A SETUP!" The Inquisitor yelled, repeating it into the vox's microphone, the vehicles immediately responding by increasing speed, causing Backett to stumble.

Although he had caught on that the Sorority indeed captured the PDF soldiers left behind, he didn't know the second part of their plan until it was too late, when gunfire emanated from the backmost APCs.

Somehow, the enemy managed to outflank him. A large group of Sisters were running behind the two furthest back in the chevron formation, one getting onto the top of the Chimera, then opening the hatch and killing the commander, before reaching down and pushing the button that opened the back ramp, allowing another few Sisters to charge in and kill the rest. Each time this occurred, another group would move forward and repeat the process, taking advantage of the driver and forward gunners being distracted.

For once in many years as an Inquisitor, Graic was genuinely awed. A Khornate warband that was not only capable of stealth but also tactical acumen worthy of Lord Castellan Creed or even Macharius? He could probably retire now saying he'd seen everything. But at the same time, of course, Backett was furious. So furious, in fact, he was calm. Going down into the Salamander's hold, as the vox system went insane with cries for help, he looked across Colonel Loch and Zero-Six-Nineteen, then said,
"Well boys, we've been played. By no less than a bunch of filthy fucking heretics. Yessir, they've played us like cheap Emperor's Tarot cards. I never thought in all my years as an agent of the Most Holy Orders of the Inquisition that I'd be outsmarted by mere cultists of the Ruinous Powers."

Quietly, the Witch Hunter drew his power sword.
"Are we going down fighting, sir?" Private Tormen inquired.
With a short "nope," he laid down the blade, doing the same with his bolt pistol.
"What're you doing?"

Sighing, Backett began,
"Y'see gents, I've been doing this for a long time. In every case I've been assigned I managed to complete my goal. Sometimes I myself have no idea how I did. I have encountered and survived the very worst the Galaxy can throw at me and the Imperium. I fought Traitor Astartes of almost every known warband, several types of Lesser Daemons, and even some of the Greater ones. Twice I've been effectively dead. And mortal cultists were always cannon fodder in those situations. Just something for us to waste ammo on. How is it that I did all those things when those same bullet catchers are wreaking havoc on us right now in a move Catachans would find impressive?"

The group stared at him incredulously.
"Are you saying we surrender?" Private Khartur spoke up after a moment.
"Let me remind you of an old saying, kid. "Victory requires no explanation. Defeat allows none." Do you really want to try and explain your way out of this if we survive? How you lost to a small group of heretical bandits when you had artillery and armored transport?"

Khartur dropped his lasgun almost immediately.

Then Malcaster. Followed by Yarden. Next was Tormen. Sergeant Boniface and Colonel Loch were reluctant, but agreed after a minute.
"Driver, stop the vehicle." Graic ordered behind him. Once the Salamander halted, Backett added, "open the back door." The seven, added by the driver who got out of his seat, raised their hands.

With a hiss and a whir, the metal ramp slowly descended, allowing the occupants a view of their new captors.

Just like Artemis and the other dead girl from a few weeks before, these girls were skinny, dirty, yellow-eyed scum, with red hair patterns made from human blood. Except this group was armed, and many had the lovely addition of body parts as trophies of war.
"See girls, I knew this last one would come to their senses." One sarcastically said as she, a dirty blonde in what looked like a Commissar's uniform, stepped into the Salamander up to the seven Imperials, addressing them with the same sarcastic tone,
"So how are you boys doing this fine evening?"
"We surrender." Was all the Inquisitor replied with, the others stone-faced with either fear or sullen acceptance of their fate.
"Oh Inquisitor," the assumed leader referred to Backett's Seal he wore around his neck, "you flatter me."

Her tone darkened as she continued,
"I do believe you'll benefit us greatly as our prisoner."

The last thing Graic saw before blacking out was the butt of a small storm bolter coming for the side of his head.

So that's the end of the Pursuit Arc, and now begins the Captivity Arc.

When I came up with a way for Backett to be captured via BSOD at successfully fighting Daemons but getting outdone by cultists, I realized I was projecting my own tendency of oversight when on a good streak in something, and when I make that one little mistake, I too have a moment of despair/anger and have a bit of a defeatist attitude. Granted, it's not severe or long-lasting, but... Oh, wait. This is a typical behavior in most people.

Plus, in-universe (as far as we know), normal cultists usually are just cannon fodder or traditional armies (*cough Blood Pact cough*) in terms of waging war. Since we haven't canonically met any Chaos Cult whose MO is like the Sorority's, I assume the Big I has never really dealt with a nomadic one yet, and hey, at least just one agent found this out the hard way instead of a whole team.

If you all want me to rewrite this chapter though, just say so and leave a suggestion on what needs changing.

Other than that, the next Flashback in Blood-Soaked Memories (whenever I finish it) will be Carnage.

Till then, buckos!