LITANY V
Entering the Governor's Residence was a surreal experience after the violence of the past few hours. Firstly the Residence was very quiet. Except for the Battle Sisters a few maintenance servitors ran their chores and they passed by the occasional loitering Stormtrooper from B Company. Secondly it was unscarred, not a single shell having fallen into the compound, nor a spot of blood to be seen. The green lawns were trimmed to a uniform level and the plants strained to the artificial blue sky above. Inside the buildings, marble affairs, it was even disjoining, as opulent furnishings, paintings and high-comfort greeted the tired and battered eyes of the self-denying Sisters.
Two large paintings in the central entrance took their attention: the Governor and his First Lady. Both were handsome nobles impeccably dressed in baroque fashion. Most of the Sisters had seen such clothing before, once when their Convent's sponsor toured her donation.
Beyond the entrance was the ballroom and it was here the nobles and Governor and his family had been assembled, 'protected' by a heavily armed squad of Stormtroopers. The Priest was also there.
With a look of intense relief the Stormtrooper Corporal, helmet held in the crook of his arm, walked over to the Sisters and saluted to Gloria. She nodded back.
"I give control of the nobles to you, Sister Superior. And," a nervous sideways glance, "the Priest." Quietly the Corporal added: "He wants to examine the purity and loyalty of the nobles to the Emperor."
Gloria looked past the Corporal who clearly wanted to be out of the Priest's presence as quickly as possible. "Thank you, Corporal, you are dismissed."
The Corporal saluted again before returning to collect his men and quickly leave the room leaving Gloria alone with her Sisters, the nobles, and Rasputin who was walking up and down the line of standing and sitting nobles, glaring at them. He still held the voluminous book, stroking it harshly.
"Why are we here, Gloria?" Rachael said, bandage changed, over Gloria's shoulder. "We should be relieved."
"We are here because we have been ordered," Gloria replied tersely, still annoyed at Rachael's earlier behaviour. She walked over to the Priest and presented herself, the rest of the squad following slowly behind.
Rasputin turned at the sound of heavy footfalls and a mad grin appeared underneath his spiky beard. He gargled something intelligible and gesticulated at the nobles.
"He says that he wants you to assist him in Examination," a servant said, stepping out from nowhere.
"How can you understand him?" Gloria asked, looking at Rasputin out of the corner of her eye as he continued to point and babble.
"We both have nodes inserted into our cortex. I do not hear his words but read his thoughts. This is how I can translate," the servant replied with a short bow. A line of hair ran along the rim of his head but the top was shaved off.
Gloria nodded, not knowing what else to say.
"The Priest would like to begin now. He says that your purified Sisters should stand around the nobles to prevent any possible traitors from attempting to escape or take hostages."
The order to her squad was given and the power armoured women shuffled around the ornate furniture to surround the nobles.
"I demand an explanation!" one noble said, fury and insult overriding his fear of the Ordos Malleus warriors. The Priest hissed and spat at him.
"Sit down, Sir," Gloria said. "This is routine," she lied. She had no idea what happened during an official Inquisition. Or one presided over by an insane Priest.
"Yes Horchmarchall, do sit," a very feminine voice added. "You will only get yourself into trouble with the Sisters."
"Bah!" the man exclaimed. "And where is your husband, the Governor? Isn't he in charge here?"
Gloria looked from the Horchmarchall to the woman and recognised her as the First Lady in the painting although she was dressed much more simply in a blue dress lined with gold at the hem and cuff.
"I don't know where he has gone," she shrugged. Looking at Gloria she said: "When the Imperial forces came to rescue us from the heretics he vanished."
"Silence, I will begin the Examination now," the Servant said for Rasputin. "You!" Rasputin pointed, "Step forward and identify yourself."
The man at the end of the line nervously stepped forward and tried to look the Priest in the face but could not, preferring to stare at the ground, ceiling, anywhere but the penetrating gaze of the Priest. "I am Grunbol Elwar, the Governor's second cousin and Magistrate of Vespin, the second city –"
Rasputin hissed loudly and waved his hand in the nobles face. One of the Sisters thought it was a signal to execute a traitor and raised her bolter.
"No, no!" the translator quickly said. "Grunbol Elwar is no traitor to the Emperor. You can leave, Magistrate Elwar."
The Magistrate, shaking and white with fear, nodded fiercely before walking out of the ballroom as fast as his weak legs could carry him. The Sister who had just been about to kill him lowered her bolter sheepishly and shrugged to her comrades.
And that was how the hours passed; one by one Rasputin called a noble forth and raved at them, walked around and sniffed and waved his clawed hands but all were given freedom and eagerly sought escape from the terrifying ordeal; the next to be called did not expect to stand up to such a fearful encounter and dreaded being next to the Priest and being the one treated differently, called: Traitor and Heretic. Summary execution waited around them in the intense faces of the Sisters of Battle.
"Ungol Tevrenaman!"
A tall once-proud looking man in a now crumpled uniform complete with gold braiding on one shoulder stood and hesitantly took steps to the Priest who scrutinised him deeply.
"Execute the traitor."
The Sisters and remaining nobles blinked, shocked. Rasputin had said nothing. The Examination, unorthodox as it was, had not even begun.
"Shoot him, Sisters, he is a Heretic."
Sister Helen was the quickest to react, lifted her bolter and fired two rounds into the Governor's Chief Of Staff's chest. The explosions ruptured his ribcage and sent the corpse flying back into the rest of the seated nobles scattering them with screams and cries of horror.
"Take the body out and crucify it," Rasputin's jerky movements and slatherings were translated as. Two other Sisters closer to the body lifted it up by the armpits and dragged it away, the formally unblemished Residence now stained by blood.
Rasputin called the next noble forward. He couldn't move from where he had fallen on the ground, rooted in fear. The Priest came to him, as mad as ever. The noble fainted when he was cleared of heresy and allowed to leave. One Sister dragged him away.
The remainder were allowed to leave as well until only the Governor's wife remained, seated with hands clasped tightly together. Gloria stood as close as she could manage in the presence of the Priest, who was in front of the chair and staring at the First Lady in an almost murderous way. Amazingly the First Lady was looking back up at him but she could not bear the Priest's gaze for long and looked away, glancing at Gloria as she did so.
"You may go, directly to your room. When your husband is found you will be called for again," she was instructed by the Priest. "Sister Superior."
"Yes, your Eminence." Gloria responded.
"You will accompany the Lady to her quarters and ensure her safety and that she is ready for her summons."
"Yes."
There were no orders for her squad so Gloria dismissed them, a little envious that they now had the opportunity to rest and recover their senses after the battle. Verona shrugged at her as she followed closely behind the First Lady, escorting her back to her quarters.
Lady Morgana, as her maids called her upon arrival, walked briskly through the furniture and ornamental full rooms, amazing Gloria at their wealth. At the Convent her own room was a small dark affair with a stand to place her Ikon upon and a vidscreen. Ordinary Sisters slept in dormitories. On a warship or in the field accommodation was whatever could be spared.
Morgana whisked through the rooms, making sure that nothing was out of place during her departure. The maids bowed to her at the waist and she ordered a bath.
"I just have to get rid of the filth!" she exclaimed shaking her head. And then said: "What are you doing?" when Gloria followed her into the large marble bathing room.
"Lady?" Gloria said.
"I am about to take a bath Sister, does that nor earn me any privacy? Or will you follow me about everywhere?" the Lady said tilting her head to one side.
"Those are my orders, Lady."
They stared at each other, Gloria not really understanding what Lady Morgana was on about. Eventually the Lady gave up and walked behind a screen and her dress shortly appeared hanging over the top of it. A maid, blind, took the dress and folded it neatly in her hands.
Insane unintelligible Priests and blind maids, thought Gloria. In the middle of the bathroom was a large bronze tub, steam rising from it, and a strong perfumed scent that sent Gloria's tired mind spinning.
Lady Morgana came out from behind the screen, eyeing Gloria coolly as she did so, before sinking into the bath, back facing Gloria.
"You Sisters train for war and battle don't you?" the Lady asked.
"Yes," Gloria replied.
"Your fingers would be strong then. I have a pain below my neck, at the back. Massage it for me."
"Pardon?" Gloria stammered.
"You do know what I mean, don't you?" Morgana asked, tone slightly miffed, mocking as well.
"Yes." Gloria replied. Massage was a simple and effective way to sooth out aches and the stress of action. "Your maid?"
"Her fingers are to soft, delicate. This pain caused by your Priest is deep. I require stronger hands. And it is your fault."
Gloria wondered how that could be. However, the Lady was her superior by a large margin and had to be obeyed whilst there was no danger to her life. Pulling off her gloves the Sister Superior put them on the edge of the tub and one hand on each side of the Lady's neck. It almost looked like she was going to strangle the Lady from behind.
"Yes, very tough. Not as tough as a Marine's I think. Have you met any of the Adeptus Astares?"
"No, Lady."
"A shame. It would have been good if they had been here as well. Not that your presence is not noted. You fought very bravely."
"Thank you."
"Did any of your Sisters die?"
Gloria paused.
"Ah, I am sorry. I shall make a generous donation to your Covent to reward her sacrifice."
"The Convent would welcome your donation, Lady." Gloria said forcing back the image of Sister Henrietta's death at the hands of a mutant traitor. When Gloria re-opened her eyes she was looking down at the water, now free of steam; it rippled little, Lady Morgana still and looking at her through the water. Gloria looked back but the image she saw was not of the Lady: instead there was a twisted woman with a strange mark on her forehead and two ribbed golden horns rising out from her coiffure. The Sister started.
Lady Morgana turned sharply, the image torn away as the water rippled and waved. "What it is?" the Lady asked, powerfully.
"Nothing…" Gloria stammered. "I was just remembering…"
Warmth returned to Morgana's face and she put her hand on Gloria's. "I see that you are tired and need rest. It was wrong of me to keep you busy. I shall let you rest."
"I cannot, Lady, while you are in my charge."
"Nonsense. Nobody will dare to harm me and all the monsters have been killed. My husband won't come here either."
The Lady stood and exited the bath.
"You believe your husband to be a part of the uprising?" Gloria asked.
"The man killed was his Chief of Staff. Everything my husband knew he knew, and vice-versa. I am ashamed. I wonder what will happen to me if he is found guilty? I hear that families of traitors are treated harshly. Would it be possible for me to seek refuge in a Covent such as your own?"
"I don't know. I would have to ask my Abbottess. And the Inquisitor's command will be final." Gloria replied, fatigue starting to wear at her.
"I am sure you can help," Morgana said, smiling, "You are a kind woman."
Gloria felt her eyes closing against her will.
"The Comte's body is not amongst the dead, Inquisitor."
Inquisitor Feordervich turned at the news. "Then where is he?"
"I do not know. There are no survivors from A Company or the command staff and all deceased and able Stormtroopers have been accounted for," answered the soldier.
"Keep searching. His family will require news, and a body if he is dead."
Feordervich pondered, wondering what the Comte's vanishing meant. He did not think that the Comte had deserted his post; he was a honourable soldier and would not have left his troops to die without him. There had been no word of a break out attempt either; no other Stormtrooper had been able to, and no patterns amongst the dead to suggest an attempt. All the Stormtroopers of A Company had died at their posts. That left the possibility that the Comte had been captured and that some of the genestealers or their mutants were still alive. And the Governor was missing, possibly captured as well, or the orchestrator of the infestation and in hiding. Time would bring the answers as his men scoured the base and other loyalists aided in rounding up traitors for execution.
Gloria woke, a patterned ceiling coming into focus above her. She sat up, a satin sheet sliding down. She ignored it. Where was she?
"Awake at last," a familiar voice said. Gloria turned to the origin of the sound and was relieved to see Sister Verona seated in her habit not far away. Gloria ran a hand through her white hair.
"Where am I?" she asked.
"In Lady Morgana's study. You fainted and she brought you here and put you to bed," Verona couldn't help smiling but refrained from laughing at her superior. "You have been asleep for six hours."
"It does not feel like it. Where is the Lady?" she added, worried.
"Being watched over, don't you worry."
"Good. And you, are you rested?" Gloria also had to be concerned with the welfare of her squad.
"A little. The Lady had all of us moved her to guard her."
"Has something happened?"
Verona shook her head. "Nothing out of the ordinary when an entire planet is subject to scrutiny."
"Oh, just that." Gloria said as lightly as she could muster, which was not much. Fog still clung heavily to her head. "Where is the Lady now?"
"Having tea with the others."
"What?"
Sister Verona shrugged. "I don't know why either. She is asking a lot of questions about the Convent and how she can go there."
It would not be a first for a high ranked noble Lady to want to enter a Convent for a period of time in refuge or contemplation, or sent their by her family as a punishment to learn 'proper' ways from the Sisters.
"Yes, she did say that she wanted me to ask the Abbotess about it. Her husband the Governor has not been found and she thinks him part of the genestealers."
"Really?"
Gloria nodded and made herself stand. She would rest later, and not on a divan. Verona indicated with her head where her habit was and she donned it quickly, tying the cord around her waist.
Together they entered the room where the rest of Gloria's squad was seated, all in their habits, and trying to delicately hold small porcelain cups in fingers that gripped knives and held onto bolters. The Lady's maids held trays with pots and the Lady herself was seated on the edge of one chair, eagerly chatting to the mesmerised Sisters. When she saw Gloria enter she stood up and smiled.
"Are you feeling better, Sister Superior? You gave me such a fright."
"I am better now. You should not trouble yourself with my squad, they are capable of taking care of themselves." Gloria said.
"I am sure. But this is no harm."
"Yes, Sister Superior," Sister Marie said. "The Stormtroopers have the Palace secured. Until we have orders there is nothing to do."
"There is always time to Pray, Sister Marie," Gloria responded then softened her tone. "And thank the Emperor that so many of us survived."
All the Sister's heads bowed and they recited a litany for their fallen Sister.
"Don't spoil the new day, Sister Superior. I know you need to grieve but I do not want more depression to fall upon my house while I am in it." Lady Morgana said, offering a white cup to Gloria.
A scream and a tumble of china interrupted.
Sisters and Morgana snapped their attention to the origin of the cry; one of the maids who was standing, white-faced, hands covering her mouth. Her eyes looked down, wide and fearful.
"Captain Yegenov!"
Lying half through an open door was the bloody and tattered body of the Comte. One arm tried to move, to pull him further into the room but it no longer had the strength. It had already driven him far enough to find help before failing.
The Sister's rushed to him.
A/N: First author's notes, and only about 12,000 words into the story! And it is already longer than I had expected. In fact it should have been finished in five parts but the battle became larger than anticipated – but that didn't make it worse did it? Gloria is meant to be a short story, I'll try and finish it by Litany VIII and in a week, two at the latest so I can concentrate on my much bigger original stories. Thanks for all the readers and comments, keep 'em coming by the Emperor! After a few weeks I will be able to upload photos of my SoB miniatures (soon to be sporting names from this story – Gloria's mini will blow you all away! i hope) onto my website ( and maybe win a battle or two with them at GW. The new smaller store's smaller tables should let me employ more flamers. Go Rachael! I need to find a mad Priest Raputin figure, and a Monty-Python/Cardinal Richelue(sp) inspired mini.