Armorum Fidei Chapter 26

Currens Ecclesia strode on, marching endlessly across the emptiness of Suna. Riding its back alert Sisters kept a stern watch upon the skies, many times their defences had been tested but each assault had been driven off with marginal losses. The garrison left to protect the walking church was more than enough to hold the walls. The Psybrids has larger concerns than one lonely chapel and so the faithful were ignored, save for the occasional skirmish, leaving those within to watch the skies for the next attack.

Deep within Justini knelt in a coarse robe and clasped her prayer beads as she bowed her head in prayer. For an hour a lesser Friar had led laments for the dead, commending the souls of those Sisters slain in battle to the God-Emperor. The sub-chapel was dark and close, with flickering electro-scones and smoking braziers of blessed incense. The walls were lined with alcoves and within each rested a polished skull, honoured places of rest for noble Sisters who had died on Suna. It took great feats to earn so privileged a grave, but two thousand years of Xenos raids had produced more than a few heroic deaths in battle among the Adepta Sororitas.

Justini wondered if her skull would be interred here when she died. It would have to be a valiant death to merit such blessings, but Suna was currently teeming with alien horrors. The loss of the Train-city Narthi spoke volumes of the Psybrid's devious might, their cunning troubling. Justini still had no idea how they had bypassed the wards, but that the aliens had done so was undeniable. More concerning was the idea that they could have struck again elsewhere. Who knew how many Train-cities had been infested, the very thought made her skin crawl and she felt cold eyes upon her spine.

Justini ground her teeth as she realised her attention had wandered again. With an effort she dragged her thoughts back to the sermon, trying to pay attention to the eulogy. It was no good, dull words droned through her ears without impression, leaving only vague sentiment behind. Too much had happened, too many things jostled for priority and Justini sighed as the sermon came to a close and she realised she'd missed all of it.

"Walk in His light," the Friar declared.

"We carry His flame into eternity," the crowd recited.

With that the sermon ended and the sisters were free to stand. Justini rose to her feet, knees throbbing in protest of an hour spent upon cold flagstones. Swiftly the other Sororitas squads departed, but the Celestians remained. They gathered together quietly and waited until they were alone, then Praxi asked, "Has there been word?"

"None," Justini sighed.

"But we made a full report to the Eparch," Resita exclaimed, "He must respond to what we found."

"I wouldn't count on it," Lexia snorted, "The Friar's ability to ignore things is surpassed only by his capacity for drink."

Resita screwed up her face and protested, "The Psybrids have subverted the Train-Cities, this is a threat that cannot be ignored. The God-Emperor's faithful are being led astray by alien lies!"

"I agree," Justini affirmed, "But how to make Tyreck see that?"

Heleyna said, "Phantea was with us, she saw it all first hand. She must demand he takes action!"

Justini shook her head and said, "The Canoness ordered us to attend her after the sermon. We should go."

With heavy hearts the Sisters set out, walking through the bowels of Curren Ecclesia with a steady tread. Their path took them to the rear of the church, where holy iconography gave way to mechanical marvels. There was a notable increase in Tech-Priests, chattering to each other in their unknowable Lingua Technis. Cogs and skulls replaced Aquilas and cyber-cherubs by floating servo-skulls. The smells of incense were lost in the tang of grease and metal, and Justini's hair crackled with static as uninsulated wiring carried motive force. It felt strange that a temple of the Imperial Creed would suffer a shrine to the Cult Mechanicus in its bowels but such a marvel as Currens Ecclesia did not run on prayer alone, it took teams of dedicated Tech-Priests and hundreds of Enginseers to make it walk and so the Ecclesiarchy forbore.

Soon the Celestians reached a plain hatch and heard voices from within. The door was open, the Mechancius seemingly unconcerned by eavesdroppers, so they stepped inside without hesitation. Within they found a square room, mathematically exact in every way. The walls bore large cog and skull icons and a gaggle of Enginseers attended upon a large machine which Justini only realised was a Tech-Priest when he turned to hiss orders to the underlings. The floor was a snake nest of cables and data-trunks, which ran to a large Holo-font set in the middle of the room.

Standing on either side of the font were Phantea and Tyreck, Canoness and Eparch arguing over some matter. Phantea stood proud in a black smock, with a red wimple tied around her head, to give her an austere appearance. Tyreck for his part had changed his dirty old robe for white vestments, with a gold-threaded cloak and a tall mitre on his head. For once he looked the part of a spiritual leader but the redness of his nose betrayed alcoholism and there was a faint smell hanging over him, like spoiled milk.

Phantea glanced over as the Celestians entered and called, "Finally, come over here and tell this Friar what you saw."

Justini obeyed, stepping nearer but Tyreck sniffed, "It won't make any difference."

Justini was caught flatfooted and asked, "May we be of service?"

"Tell the Friar that the aliens have found a way past the wards," Phantea snapped.

Tyreck held up his dirty hands and stated, "I'm not saying I disbelieve you, merely that I disagree with your course of action. The threat of the alien only makes our cause more worthy; the people will be terrified of the Xenos, our certainty of success grows with every hour."

"We should recall the other squads," Phantea argued, "Before they are ambushed as we were."

Tyreck shook his head and said, "None of the other missionary expeditions report any undue trouble. The Psybrids continue their raids but that is all. The Train-cities are ripe for conversion, to break off now would be to accept failure. It is written, the God-Emperor does not tolerate failure."

"We are over-extended and vulnerable," Phantea countered, "A massed attack could break us, as it has many Train-cities."

But Tyreck barked, "The eyes of Terra are upon us, we must continue our sacred charge. He will see our efforts and reward us!"

There it was Justini groaned silently, Tyreck was still looking to his own agenda, concerned primarily with getting off Suna. The threat of the Xenos was brushed off by the man's ego, he would not accept anything that could threaten his position. Justini had seen the danger first hand, she knew the peril they were in but to Tyreck it was all theoretical. Justini knew he would sit on this information and do nothing, thinking blindness was a defence. Yet perhaps there was someone on Suna who would take it seriously.

Justini cleared her throat and interrupted, "Have we considered sending word to the Space Marines?"

"The Astartes?!" Phantea sneered, "Why would we bother with those arrogant curs?!"

Tyreck agreed, "Leave them out of this."

Justini was surprised by the response, Tyreck she expected blindness from but Phantea should have more sense. Hastily she explained, "We are fighting the same war, surely all servants of the God-Emperor should unite against the Xenos."

Phantea's lip curled and she hissed, "The Adepta Sororitas does not need their assistance, let them brawl like ruffians, we hold ourselves to a more pious standard."

"But they may not be aware of the threat," Justini argued, "The Psybrids could be seeking to ensnare them."

"It's a bit late for that," Tyreck muttered.

"Eparch?" Resita asked in confusion.

"Oh, that's right you haven't seen the recent reports," Phantea sighed, "I suppose you had better be told. Replay the last images."

"Canonness, that is secure information," Tyreck protested.

"My Celestians have my full trust, and I value their input. Now play it again."

Justini and the others leaned in as the holo-font shimmered into being. A flat plain, dominated by a Train-city, one she did not recognise. Attacking it from afar was a wave of icons representing an alien horde, yet vectoring in from the side came the blue icons of the Storm Heralds. Justini watched in fascination as they counter-attacked which quickly turned to horror as the artillery of the Train-city turned its guns upon its saviours. The Storm Herald's resulting casualties were harsh but she fully expected the Emperor's Angels to rally and fight on, breaking the Xenos against impossible odds. To her surprise they didn't, they hastily regrouped and performed a crisp disengagement, falling back in waves to their vehicles and then escaping in the nick of time.

"The Xenos got their filthy claws into another Train-city," Heleyna spat.

"It was the perfect ambush," Lexia agreed.

Phantea nodded as she said, "Now you see why I must insist our squads are recalled. The corruption was not an isolated incident, they have spread their taint far and wide. We must increase our vigilance and sanctify our souls for the final battle."

"You overreact," Tyreck scoffed, "The Psybrids focus on the Space Marines, as I said they would. Our sacred mission is not imperilled. We must continue to convert the people to the Imperial Creed."

Resita glared at the display and hissed, "The Space Marines retreated, I did not expect that from them. We Sororitas would have fought to the last drop of blood with His praises upon our lips."

"And it would indeed have been our last drop of blood," Justini commented.

"You agree with this?!"

Justini confessed, "I admit begrudging respect for the unyielding discipline of the Storm Herald's tactics. They effectively withdrew from an unwinnable battle with only minimal casualties, preserving their forces for the next fight, whereas to stay would have handed total victory to the Xenos. Glorious death in battle is laudable, but by such ruthless pragmatism are wars won. The God-Emperor demands victory in all things."

Praxi spoke out, "Hold on, where did these images come from?"

Phantea explained, "The Psybrid fleet was not as thorough as they thought, a few auspex shrouded servitor-satellites survived the orbital war. We usually use them to track Train-cities without them knowing, but they serve to monitor the war. The Space Marines are limited to high-flying servo-skulls, far less potent and accurate."

"Why don't the Storm Heralds don't know of these satellites?" Justini asked.

"Because we never told them," Tyreck scoffed, "The Ecclesiarchy has its own secrets. Knowledge of these satellites is prohibited and you are not to share their existence with anyone."

Justini argued, "But surely we should share this information with our allies. We cannot leave them operating in the dark."

"Absolutely not," Phantea spat, "They can make do without us."

"But..."

"They made their position clear; they didn't want to cooperate with us so we are not obliged to share with them. Truly pride goeth before a fall."

Justini remembered then the humiliating encounter when the Storm Heralds had turned Phantea away. The sting of that embarrassment must still ache in her heart and the Canoness was not one to forgive lightly. Justini realised it was pointless arguing, Phantea was as entrenched in her position as Tyreck, both of them refusing to budge an inch. The only thing they agreed upon was that the Storm Heralds should be left to fight alone, without the Sororitas' aid.

She wearily decided to explore the virtues of silence as the pair returned to bickering over the deployment of their forces, each convinced they were in the right. Justini for her part sank back and let them argue, fretting about what the future held. Unseen by all her hand strayed to the ring around her neck and silently she implored the God-Emperor to guide them, wondering all the while what her mother would have made of this foolishness.